Story Time

As Bassman and I were heading to the airport, we began talking stories of our childhood. Okay, I started spinning some reminiscences. Hey, it's a long ride.

I remember when I was in second or third grade my best friend was a boy named Danny who lived a few miles away from me. We rode the same bus and since I got on first, I would save a seat for him.

I liked Danny a lot. He was a fan of the same things I was; horses, swimming, playing cowboys and indians (remember kids, this was pre-p.c. days). I wanted to be able to spend more time with him besides the 20 minutes or so on the bus twice a day.

We began planning how to do that very thing. Since our parents worked, they couldn't take us to each other's house. Neither could we bike back and forth as we lived on a state highway. We were getting pretty frustrated when inspiration struck.

A tunnel! A huge tunnel! With passages that would not only take us to each other's house but to distant lands! Like China! Or school maybe! Wouldn't the other kids be amazed when they saw what we had accomplished?

Our plan was for both of us to go home that night and begin digging. He would dig north and I would head south. It shouldn't take more than a few days before we connected.

Oh man, I was geared! I even knew where I was going to put my entrance. My father had brought some bricks home and stacked them in the back yard so I would use them to line my tunnel. I didn't want to have to carry them too far (I would probably be tired from all the digging!), so the back yard it was. Since it was the away from the house, no one would spot my secret for a few days.


I started digging. The ground was tough and the shovel was too tall so I switched to a big spoon. I was at it for hours. By the time I quit that night, I had a fairly respectable hole. I couldn't wait to see how Danny had done!

Danny had not done one little thing! I couldn't decide if I was mad or heartbroken. I settled on mostly mad.

You know who else got mad? My father the next time he mowed the yard. It was quite a jolt when the mower dropped into my tunnel entrance.

I learned my lesson though. The next time I attempted any digging (a swimming pool for Barbie) was in my grandmother's lawn. And Uncle Paul got almost as upset as my father had!


P.S. Happy Birthday Loretta!