GRANDPA SANCHO MISSES DON ANDREW!
Now, be honest! How can I just go on and on about Don Andrew when I haven’t even seen him since August? It is difficult for this befuddled old laborer, squire as I am, to keep up this column of verbiage without new fodder with which to work.
You see, it gets to the point that all I have is memories and they are quite in the past. For example, on one occasion I picked this young knight up after school and we decided to go see the big bird. Now Fort Stockton has this big Road Runner, which I now find out is the second biggest Road Runner in the world. Once it was the biggest. My late friend Gene Cummings came up with the idea, originally.
Don Andrew and his faithful sidekick Sancho Grandpa got to the big bird just as a busload of tourists arrived. Now they all wanted to get their picture taken in front of the Road Runner. His name is Paisano Pete, which come to find out is a mistranslation of a Spanish word. That doesn’t matter anymore since it is only the second largest Road Runner in the world.
Don Andrew was a real trooper. He held cameras for the visitors and helped out in any way he could. He even had his picture made. But, our young knight’s mind was not on pictures. It wasn’t even on the Road Runner. You see, across the street there was a gigantic mud puddle. Guess where our young knight’s mind was focused. You guessed it: right on the mud puddle.
Don Andrew and Sancho Granpa threw everything in that mud puddle except the kitchen sink. It is amazing what will place a 3½ year old knight into the attack and fight mode. It is too far back for me to remember but there were bound to be dragons and perhaps even worse things in that mud puddle. By the time Don Andrew and his faithful sidekick Sancho Granpa were through there wasn’t much mud puddle left. It was full of rocks, sticks, and who knows—perhaps a kitchen sink.
Fond memories! They are many but just about all I have left. What’s wrong with that you might ask? Absolutely nothing! I would reply. This befuddled old laborer, squire to the great Don Andrew will take the memories and be proud of them. They are treasures stored in time. I have many more. Stay tuned.
P.S. If you think throwing rocks in a mud puddle is silly you might be suffering a little Fun Dementia. This disease can set in at any age. It hasn’t made the DSM-IV-TR yet but I plan to submit an article for The National Institute for Trauma and Loss in Children. If it is published I will send you a copy; if not, oh well!
You see, it gets to the point that all I have is memories and they are quite in the past. For example, on one occasion I picked this young knight up after school and we decided to go see the big bird. Now Fort Stockton has this big Road Runner, which I now find out is the second biggest Road Runner in the world. Once it was the biggest. My late friend Gene Cummings came up with the idea, originally.
Don Andrew and his faithful sidekick Sancho Grandpa got to the big bird just as a busload of tourists arrived. Now they all wanted to get their picture taken in front of the Road Runner. His name is Paisano Pete, which come to find out is a mistranslation of a Spanish word. That doesn’t matter anymore since it is only the second largest Road Runner in the world.
Don Andrew was a real trooper. He held cameras for the visitors and helped out in any way he could. He even had his picture made. But, our young knight’s mind was not on pictures. It wasn’t even on the Road Runner. You see, across the street there was a gigantic mud puddle. Guess where our young knight’s mind was focused. You guessed it: right on the mud puddle.
Don Andrew and Sancho Granpa threw everything in that mud puddle except the kitchen sink. It is amazing what will place a 3½ year old knight into the attack and fight mode. It is too far back for me to remember but there were bound to be dragons and perhaps even worse things in that mud puddle. By the time Don Andrew and his faithful sidekick Sancho Granpa were through there wasn’t much mud puddle left. It was full of rocks, sticks, and who knows—perhaps a kitchen sink.
Fond memories! They are many but just about all I have left. What’s wrong with that you might ask? Absolutely nothing! I would reply. This befuddled old laborer, squire to the great Don Andrew will take the memories and be proud of them. They are treasures stored in time. I have many more. Stay tuned.
P.S. If you think throwing rocks in a mud puddle is silly you might be suffering a little Fun Dementia. This disease can set in at any age. It hasn’t made the DSM-IV-TR yet but I plan to submit an article for The National Institute for Trauma and Loss in Children. If it is published I will send you a copy; if not, oh well!
posted by Harold Durham at
10:48 PM
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