Gift with a Punch

Gift with a Punch

Noel Laflin

7-31-17

Camp Ahwahnee was a vast and final depository for many gifts: some edible, some not; some useful, some not.

Surplus cheese from the state of California found its way to the mess hall some years.  Most of us placed this in the useful column.

U.S. Army canned rations – some dating back to the forties and fifties, along with a thousand tubes of ancient military lip balm were kept in a shed behind the warehouse. Neither was edible, let alone useful, and there they stayed.

The old, frayed American flags gifted to camp, many of which still bore just forty-eight stars - the ones reverently folded in triangular fashion and sitting atop a dusty shelf in camp’s warehouse, some for years - were of use when we demonstrated the proper way of disposing of the faithful red, white, and blue cloth. Some flew over the U.S. Capitol, or so a pinned note attached to a particularly large flag occasionally indicated. Reverence and long–winded tributes were always in play, regardless of where the flag had flown, as it was laid to rest in the dying embers of a Friday night campfire.

Three hundred surplus metal Army cots were of use to all who desired to sleep off the ground.

Their counterpart, the dusty, questionably-stained, and frequently mouse infested mattresses – that came from God-knows-where – were not so useful, but still tossed upon creaky metal cots summer after summer.

The five thousand cans of Hawaiian Punch, donated to our camp one summer had the dubious honor of being both useful and not-so-much, depending upon one’s taste.  Most campers could stomach the sweet, cyclamated drink for the week they were in camp; the staff, well, not-so-much for an entire summer. 

Thus we found the cans to be useful in a variety of other ways – target practice on the rifle range, for example; the bringing home to disliked siblings; or, the stop-action, 8 millimeter filming of a hundred murderous cans appearing to leap from a wooden pallet in the upper parking lot, march down a dusty road, eventually jumping onto dining room tables and taking over the camp.

It took Jerry Bird and a handful of culpable minions, an entire day to move a can, shoot a frame, move another can, shoot a frame, ad-nauseam.

And if somewhere out there, by lucky chance, footage survives of that final punch, it would be a most useful gift indeed.

Lou

Lou

4-22-17

Judy and Lou - Halloween 1990

Marcel Proust once wrote: “Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”

Lou was one of those charming gardeners.

He was at first my neighbor, and then my friend.

And although he left our neighborhood long ago - and this world, just recently - I have rejoiced in the fruit of our friendship across the decades.

I smile when I recall his gentle spirit, his generosity, and his easy laugh.

His seeds of happiness, which he planted a quarter century ago, still blossom.

And I am eternally grateful for that bouquet.

Pretty Bird - Pretty Bird

Pretty Bird - Pretty Bird

Noel Laflin

7-22-17

Two things I dearly missed upon moving out from home long ago were a cuckoo clock and a pet parakeet. Funny how it was all about birds even way back then.

Consequently, I took care of both needs with my first paycheck.

The clock was already trained to talk on the hour and half hour - as long as one remembered to pull the weights up on a daily basis.

That parakeet was a slow learner, on the other hand, so I purchased a long-playing record called, 'Train Your Bird to Talk.'

Setting the needle's arm to replay, I figured that each simple phrase such as 'Hello, Hello, Hello,' or 'Pretty Bird, Pretty Bird, Pretty Bird,' etc. would repeat hundreds of times in an eight-hour day, thus allowing that parakeet to start conversing in no time while I was at work.

The plan might have worked had I not taken into account my roommate, Ed.

Somehow I'd overlooked the fact that he worked nights and slept days.

According to the hastily scribbled note I found upon my return home that evening - the one lying beside the smashed 'Train Your Bird to Talk' LP - he'd been having some troubling dreams about talking birds.

Giant Leap and Loose Change

Giant Leap and Loose Change

Noel Laflin

7-20-17

On the morning of July 20, 1969, someone had the presence of mind to set up a small television set at Camp Ahwahnee so that we could witness the first moon landing.

Soon after, a makeshift antenna was fashioned, wires fed through an open window, snaked up an old pine tree, and eventually attached to the roof of the Scoutmaster’s lounge - lounge being a rather generous description of the drafty, dusty enclosure, whose only furniture comprised of a few dilapidated sofas and moth-eaten chairs, all of which I frequently scrounged for lost change, sometimes hitting the mother lode when quarters, dimes, and nickels were found beneath the squishy cushions, wedged within cracks of the ancient furniture …  but I digress.

As word spread through camp that the landing was fast approaching, most everything came to an abrupt, screeching halt. The pool, archery, and rifle ranges shut down. Leather working tools and basket weaving reeds were laid aside. Cooks and kitchen crew took a break from the mess hall and strolled across the parade ground. Within no time, some two hundred kids, adults, and staff surrounded the packed lounge, trying to sneak a peek at the only TV on our beloved mountaintop.

Cheers and wonderment ensued when Eagle touched down and Neil Armstrong took his first steps on the lunar surface. Some were actually able to see the event live that day on the tiny black and white tube that sat astride the old stone fireplace. Others – mostly others - whose view was blocked by all the others, had only the sound of Mission Control personnel and Walter Cronkite’s voice to guide their thoughts.

Folks – mostly adults – hung around for hours afterward discussing the impressive, momentous occasion.

And the amount of lost, loose change that was collected beneath dusty cushions later that night, after all had finally left the lounge and gone to bed, was pretty impressive too.

Curious Kids

Curious Kids

Noel Laflin

7-18-17

Jesus, our neighbor, upon whose field I was about to trespass, was a kind and honest man. We bought fresh tomatoes, corn, and strawberries from his fruit and vegetable stand twice a week. And being next door neighbors, he always gave us a discount.

But I never knew that he raised goats. The wall that separated our properties obstructed that view.

I came to the realization one afternoon as I scrambled to the top of the wall and looked for our errant Frisbee – the one that had zoomed over Tom’s head and landed somewhere on the several acres of farm and grazing land. It lay a good fifty feet beyond, surrounded by curious goats.

I dropped into Jesus’ field and slowly made my way to the neon flying saucer, now being inspected by an ever increasing herd.

 
Upon seeing me jump from the wall into their domain, the critters quickly lost their interest in the Frisbee, surrounding and gently butting against my legs - nibbling at my shoelaces.

Retrieving the object of my errand, I slowly made my way back to the wall, all the while petting stubby horns on shaggy heads, and trying not to trip over shoes untied.

Although I have never forgotten the incident of forty years ago, nor our relatively short stay there, the memory loomed large as I drove past the old neighborhood recently.

Where the fruit and vegetable stand once stood, manned by Jesus and his kids, a large gas station had taken its place.

The former rows of tasseled corn, which once had hid a herd of four-legged kids from public view, is now a shopping center.

There’s a supermarket with produce of course. But it wasn’t as fresh as once recalled, and no discount was even offered.

And sadly, there wasn’t a goat in sight.

Johnnie Walker

Johnnie Walker

Noel Laflin

7-6-17

A couple of years back, when I apparently had a temporary lapse in judgment, I mentioned to Zac that he was welcome to have a sip or two of the good Scotch in the cupboard anytime.  It was a nearly full bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label, which runs about $180.

Well, sometime later, when I went to the very back of the top shelf and pulled out the good stuff, I found the bottle was nearly drained – we’re talking vapors here.

I waited a good year or so before asking Zac what happened.  He fessed up that he and his best friend, Matt, drank it all one evening.

“It just went down so smoothly,” he offered as his lame defense.

“No kidding,” I replied.

So, come the night of the wedding rehearsal dinner, Zac handed me a heavy gift – a brand new bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label Scotch - in the fancy box no less.

All had been forgiven long ago, but the kid definitely scored points that evening and consequently has been reinstated into the will.

Father of the Bride 7/1/17

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, youngsters and young at heart - and to new friends and old: Welcome!  As father of the bride I have the distinct pleasure of making this speech.

I would like to start - on behalf of both families - by giving a warm welcome to all of the relatives and friends who have joined us today. I know that many of you have traveled long distances to be here. Thank you all for coming. And as I look around the room I realize just how many friends Zac and Krysten have. I hope that you all get a chance to mingle, make a new friend or two, and have a wonderful evening.

Today I must admit that I am the proudest dad in the world to have walked Krys down the aisle. I think that you will all agree that she looks stunning. Now, this is where I am supposed to say a few embarrassing things about my daughter. But, as I have always tried to be an honest dad, and told her way too much about my own youthful indiscretions, she obviously has more dirt on me than I on her, so I think it wise to skip that part.

Suffice to say, Brenda and I are both very proud of not only how our girl glows today but how she has always tackled every aspect of her life with glowing enthusiasm, especially as she plows her way through medical school, and how she planned this fantastic night.  I have always said that there was never a sport or scholastic challenge that Krysten did not embrace.  Yet through it all, she has never lost her greatest qualities – her empathy for her fellow man, her thoughtfulness, her kindness toward all creatures great and small, her affection, her generosity, her steadfast loyalty, her smile, and her grace under pressure.  Simply put, honey, you never cease to amaze and delight.

There are two things which we as parents try to give our children; one is roots and the other is wings. Krys, you may have now grown your wings and flown from the nest, but your roots are strong and deep.  For that, we are all most proud and grateful.

And I bet your grandfather, Bert, as well as my parents … well, I bet they are all beaming with pride too right now.  Their spirits are with us this tonight – I can feel it.

Now, Zac, it’s your turn …

I was allowed a front row seat as I watched you grow and develop into a strong and confident young man; the kind of wonder kid who never shirked responsibility.   When times were darkest, you never gave up. We marveled as you recovered, in record time, from a horrible dirt biking accident.  We cheered as you pursued a new major in college and graduated at the top of your class. We hollered with delight as you studied non-stop and challenged those pesky CPA exams, putting them into their place one by one by one by one!

For these things alone, we could all be proud.

But the icing on the cake was how you fell in love with Krysten, and she with you.

Thornton Wilder, my favorite playwright – the fellow who gave the world, ‘Our Town’ - once famously wrote: ‘People are meant to go through life two by two.  ‘Tain’t natural to be lonesome.’

And in keeping with a literary twist, albeit through a musical, I think that Charles Dickens’ Artful Dodger put it best when he sang to Oliver:

"Consider yourself at home.
Consider yourself one of the family.
We've taken to you so strong.
It's clear we're going to get along."

Although it seems that you have already been part of it for a very long time now, welcome to the family officially, kiddo.  And we in turn are proud to be part of your clan as well.

Now this is where the speech ended - up until last night when Zac handed me a note at the close of the rehearsal dinner.  He gently admonished me not to read it until the morning of the wedding.  But I cheated and read it before going to bed.  And I am glad I did, as his words made me smile as I drifted off to sleep.

“Noel,

I just wanted to say thank you.  You have treated me like a son for a while now.

But tomorrow it becomes official. I promise to love Krysten with all I have through this life. Words cannot express how my heart feels for her.

Thank you for all of the risks you have taken on me. And thank you for setting a great example on how to live life and love people so selflessly.  You are truly an inspiration to me.

Love,

Zac”

And with his words, I just found the real ending to my speech.