A Pontificating Dilemma
By: SirWilho
I am in a dilemma, maybe even a quandary of sorts. I have come to the conclusion that I am not as smart as I think I am.
Here’s the problem, I am not creative and tend to be less gifted in the creative/imaginative arena so therefore when I write, I have to relive past experiences that seem funny to me. This leaves two issues, the first is what I perceive to be funny may not be funny to other people. I could be mentally twisted. Second is when I write about experiences that involve people I know, ultimately, I am kind of making fun of them. Somebody might get mad for me for retelling a story that isn’t flattering.
Here’s an example. My brother Bishop was blessed an enviable lock of hair, just like Andy Gibb pictured below:
Of course this was 30 years ago and age forced his hair to migrate South. Bishop also had the hairy chest thing going on like Andy, but I’m not sure about the moose knuckle in his pants. Anyway, Bishop has admirable character, honesty and integrity. I have known Bishop to forego wearing his raingear he brought for a fishing trip because his partners forgot theirs and he didn’t think it was right that they get wet and him not to.
Here’s the dilemma. In my mind this story makes me giggle but might not make Bishop giggle. You can be the judge.
A group of us were assembled at Ducky Andrews cottage located on the shores of Chicaugoan Lake. Ducky had some jetski’s around and Bishop was giving rides. A niece of Juice Woods asked Bishop if he could take her for a ride and being the nice guy he is, Bishop willingly agrees.
My first open mouth laugh came when Bishop was taking a practice run on the jetski. He took the corner near shore and launched a little rooster tail of water at us. Okay, that was kinda funny, but what really made me start to chuckle was when he was on his way out I got a good look at his back and lower back. Hairy, very hairy and his shorts were riding real low so that his arse crack stuck out. Normally you wouldn’t notice but against the fish belly white of his upper butt cheeks the hairy arse crack stood out like it was penciled in. A mental note was made to hide my sunscreen for fear of him asking me to SPF his back.
Bishop then gives Juice Wood’s niece a ride, everyone was happy. The niece is dropped off on shore and her mother asks how the ride was and she replied ‘very fun.’ Next, her mother asked how she held on so good and her reply was, “I took a handful of hair in each hand and squeezed real tight.” Funny, to me, yes.
July of 1982 stands out for another questionable laughing moment. Once again we were at Chicaugoan Lake’s beach accompanied by a couple of not easily impressed girls. LW Uh Uhh was with us also. LW actually called himself Scrap Iron Pedaski. Scrap Iron Pedaski was a legendary wrestling hero who had big muscles like Scrap thought he did. Brother Gump gave him the nickname LW Uh Uhh since every time Scrap grabbed a bale of hay to put on the conveyor he would go Uh Uhh. The LW stood for little wiener and I’m not sure where that came from.
Bishop, Scrap, myself and the girls decided to swim out to the raft. The raft was located about 75 yards out and once the water got over your head there were 3 floating logs to rest at. Scrap did not have his swim trunks on and eventually decided that his tight Wrangler pants would be fine to swim in. As Scrap pondered on shore about his no swim trunk situation we swam out to the raft.
The day was turning to dusk, it was still hot out and the lake was like glass. All in all it was a very nice moment but then Scrap decided to take it away. He got a good running start, dove in, swam underwater for a long way and came up swimming like Michael Phelps. Scrap didn’t even use the logs. Impressive, I thought to myself. One thing I forgot to mention about Scrap were his lips, they were huge to the point of being Neanderthal-like.
Scrap was making good time when the weight of the Wranglers started to slow him. At 20 yards away Scraps feet stopped splashing on the surface and they lower a few degrees. 15 yards away and his arms start to slow their chopping of the water and his legs once again go down a little further. Scrap is still too proud to voice his upcoming concerns and pushes forward. His is now a mere 10 yards away and we watch him intently since this is becoming interesting. The arms are now dog-paddling and legs are kinda swishing the water without effect. A word came out of Scraps mouth that somewhat sounded like HELP but we weren’t sure. 7 yards out and we think he might make it but his legs have now turned to rubber and the dog paddling continues without making much headway. Again he mutters between breaths something about help, this time he’s not moving forward and only his face is above water so the word comes out like ‘ELP’. “ Hmmmm,” I say to Bishop, “perhaps Scrap isn’t going to make it?” “Ya think?” answers Bishop as we continue to admire Scraps determination. 5 yards out and the only thing saving Scraps life now are his lips. He went under twice, but since three is the definition of drowning we continue to watch in awe. He comes up the second time and now I’m positive he is saying “LP”. I look over at Bishop and say to him, “I really think Scrap is drowning and you should save him.” I did not want to leave the little harem and it was getting chilly. Bishop responds, “do I have to?” “yes,” we all giggled. Scrap is now underwater and even his buoyant lips aren’t keeping him afloat when Bishop jumps in, grabs Scrap and pulls him to the raft. Bishop is now the hero and I’m out. ‘Uh Uhh’ is the sound of air gushing into Scraps lungs as he comes back to life on the raft.
We give Scrap a couple minutes to catch his breath and decide to go back in. Bishop suggested that Scrap go first in case he had to save him again. I really laughed as Scrap jumped in and swam to the first log, definitely faster than any fish I’ve seen.
Why do I remember this near death event for Scrap and think it’s funny? Demented I must be since I still smile as I think about this event.
Recent Comments