Parental Amnesia…

When we drove back from central NY this year, my niece accompanied us and we talked about her college experiences and future plans while we were speeding along toward Kentucky. After a while the conversation reminded me of events that I remember from my youth. This got me thinking of two intersecting phenomena that have always amazed me whenever I witness them. One is that adults (especially those with children) tend to forget how bad or mischievous or immature they were when they were the age of their kids and all the poor judgments they made. What’s worse is many of them present this disinfected persona to children as though it was real. The other phenomenon is that our kids, nieces, nephews and grandchildren tend to not really believe that we were ever young and did any of the things they are currently doing. Interestingly, one side’s deceit and the other’s obliviousness dovetail and actually support the idea that we actually never were young… we just popped out of the womb fully grown and in my case, complete with cat-like reflexes. Seeing as how I had just visited my cousin, Rand, and had many tasty beers with him which I talked about in the previous post, I thought I would tell one of my favorite “Rand and me” stories from when we were very young. I don’t have pictures so I’m going to have to resort to international symbols again. We must have been 12 or 13 years old and we would always go to Rand’s house after school, mostly because it was easier to get into mischief there. At the time of this event (and others like it), his dad used to get home in the early afternoon and when we got to his house, he would be asleep on the couch…

So there lie the sleeping giant as they said in “Tora, Tora, Tora” and what an irresistible target he was. Anyway, Rand and I would go into the kitchen and get a large plastic drinking cup out of the cupboard…

Next, whichever of us could, would fart into the cup while it was held fast to the buttocks so as not to allow any of methane mixture to escape…

Then while the cup was still held flush with the blaster’s butt, the perpetrator would slide his flat hand between the mouth of the cup and the butt trapping the fetid gas inside the vessel…

Then with practiced dexterity, the carrier of the “torch” in one swift motion (or fell swoop) would hold the cup over the sleeping father’s (or cousin’s) nose while quickly taking away the hand that trapped the odor…

In a scene of hilarity that still makes me smile just thinking about it, Rand’s dad would wake like an angry bear shocked out of hibernation, confused about being awakened and the horrible odiousness simultaneously. By the time it occurred to him that, once again, it was us… we were running away laughing as hard as I ever remember laughing…

Of course his dad would come after us swearing all the way but this did not dissuade us when the opportunity arose again. So once again, I’m just a mere potter in the midwest and the AIGA up in Chicago or New York is willfully neglecting yet another much needed international symbol. Look AIGA, I’ve already done the legwork, you can use the symbol royalty free but if you don’t act soon those damn stockphoto places with snatch it up and then nobody will get to use it without paying…

Here’s the beer glasses I uploaded yesterday (clicking goes to etsy)…

Tags: ceramics, clay, porcelain, pottery