Poops and Passing On
I have two stories to share today. The antagonist could be any one of my boys, but he isn't.
I'm guessing the year was 1970. Could have been a year in either direction, I suppose. My mom hands over her son to her younger brother, perhaps in his early twenties, who has no interest in having children for years to come. Together, my uncle Larry and I went out to lunch. We had pizza at Schianos in Lawrence, NY, I believe.
Then comes the inevitable moment where I announce I have to use the bathroom. My uncle was probably very relieved to find out I could do it alone, being new to the game. Little did he know that I had a surprise up my sleeve. Once locked in the stall, I began a lecture the family now knows as "Where Poops Come From". I don't remember the lecture, but I remember quite clearly the imagery in my mind. Picture the plumbing animations from the opening titles of Monty Python's Flying Circus. I can only figure I caught it on TV when Dad was watching it one night.
I know this story more from hearing than remembering, but to tell it right, it must have been the busiest possible time in the bathroom. My young uncle was totally embarrassed as the lecture unfolded, and I was out of reach behind a locked stall door.
That is story number one. Some time later, as I remember this one quite clearly, my mom took me to the Nescott Drugstore. I spotted a cheap plastic train, and through some form of manipulation got her to buy it. That night, poor Uncle Larry took me out again. This time to a stock car race / demolition derby. It was perhaps 30 minutes from home. Well, after whatever junk food I forced him to buy, I had to go again on the way home. As the trip progressed, need became "urgent need". He was panicked, but still maintained his sense of humor. He turned on the alarm system in the car like a police siren, rushing as fast as he could toward my house.
In the end, we made it. I ran in, spotted the toy train, and commenced to play with it. "WHAT?? What about your 'emergency'?!?" he asked. With gleeful innocence, I replied (can you guess?), "It went away."
These stories have been recounted at so many Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners, and Memorial Day and Labor Day barbecues over the years. Uncle Larry had countless anecdotes, and all of them had us in stitches. I attribute a lot of my sense of humor to the times I spent with him. He passed away yesterday. Rather than dwell on what I'm feeling right now, I chose to share the stories he'd most likely have shared with you if I could introduce you to him.
I'll miss you, Larry. After your illness, though, I know you're in a better place. God Bless. You've left me so much to smile about.
I'm guessing the year was 1970. Could have been a year in either direction, I suppose. My mom hands over her son to her younger brother, perhaps in his early twenties, who has no interest in having children for years to come. Together, my uncle Larry and I went out to lunch. We had pizza at Schianos in Lawrence, NY, I believe.
Then comes the inevitable moment where I announce I have to use the bathroom. My uncle was probably very relieved to find out I could do it alone, being new to the game. Little did he know that I had a surprise up my sleeve. Once locked in the stall, I began a lecture the family now knows as "Where Poops Come From". I don't remember the lecture, but I remember quite clearly the imagery in my mind. Picture the plumbing animations from the opening titles of Monty Python's Flying Circus. I can only figure I caught it on TV when Dad was watching it one night.
I know this story more from hearing than remembering, but to tell it right, it must have been the busiest possible time in the bathroom. My young uncle was totally embarrassed as the lecture unfolded, and I was out of reach behind a locked stall door.
That is story number one. Some time later, as I remember this one quite clearly, my mom took me to the Nescott Drugstore. I spotted a cheap plastic train, and through some form of manipulation got her to buy it. That night, poor Uncle Larry took me out again. This time to a stock car race / demolition derby. It was perhaps 30 minutes from home. Well, after whatever junk food I forced him to buy, I had to go again on the way home. As the trip progressed, need became "urgent need". He was panicked, but still maintained his sense of humor. He turned on the alarm system in the car like a police siren, rushing as fast as he could toward my house.
In the end, we made it. I ran in, spotted the toy train, and commenced to play with it. "WHAT?? What about your 'emergency'?!?" he asked. With gleeful innocence, I replied (can you guess?), "It went away."
These stories have been recounted at so many Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners, and Memorial Day and Labor Day barbecues over the years. Uncle Larry had countless anecdotes, and all of them had us in stitches. I attribute a lot of my sense of humor to the times I spent with him. He passed away yesterday. Rather than dwell on what I'm feeling right now, I chose to share the stories he'd most likely have shared with you if I could introduce you to him.
I'll miss you, Larry. After your illness, though, I know you're in a better place. God Bless. You've left me so much to smile about.
posted by Eric at 14:39
3 Comments:
Sorry to hear this. (((hugs)))
I'm also sorry that I will no longer be able to watch the beginning of monty Python without thinking of "eric poop lecture". *laughs*
Take care and we'll catch you later.
I am sorry for your loss. It is hard to really know how another person feels but I can imagine. My cousin committed suicide last month and it is hard to contemplate to this moment what would make a man feel so bad.
hugs,
Hey man, that was a beautiful tribute, and really got to me.
If it was me, that is how I would want to be remembered, so I think you did Larry proud.
I know you don't know me, but I have seen you post comments on some mutual friends blogs, which is how I came across this today.
My name is Keith.
Nice to meet you.
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