Beadle Rock
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This is a true tale of something that happened when I was about three years old. I guess I must have been an inquisitive and experimental kid even back then. One day had a “brilliant idea” that I thought would be really funny, but before I explain what happened, I have to tell you about Henry.
Henry was my dad. He was one feisty little full blooded Italian who stood all of 5 feet 3 inches tall and tipped the scales at a hefty 124 pounds soaking wet. What he lacked in size he more than made up for in personality. He was an extremely loving father but also a very combustible person. It didn’t take much to set off and when you did, you knew it! He would yell whenever he got really upset about something which was just about every other day. My mom used to say he had a “short fuse”. And he was fearless. For example, he sometimes used to take a train to work that traveled through some rather dicey neighborhoods, but since he grew up in the inner city, there weren’t many things that scared him. One thing that didn’t were the teenage punks that stood at least a head taller who would sometimes have the audacity to light up a cigarette in the forbidden confines of the train. He was known for confronting them without hesitation, snatching the cigarettes out of their hands and stomping them out right in front of them!
Henry’s Dad, who passed long before I was born, was a barber and because of that he and several of his siblings had learned to cut hair. My dad used to cut all our hair growing up. It was NOT something he would enjoy doing and he made that well known! His main weapon against our follicles was his trusty electric trimmer. All through the painful process he would bark out orders like: “Put your chin down!” “Turn this way!” “Turn that way!” and of course my personal favorite: “HOLD STILL!!” That was toughest one of all because when he would start cutting behind your ears with that little electric weapon of his it would send this ticklish vibration RIGHT DOWN YOUR SPINE! This would inevitably cause us to flinch no matter how hard we tried not to because the damn thing tickled like hell. That would initiate a response like: “Hold still damn it! Now I’m gonna have to go over that spot again!” Then he would deliver his most threatening line of all: “If you don’t hold still I’m gonna send you to a barber and he’ll MAKE you hold still!” So for the first 13 years of my life I had this crazy, irrational fear of barbers! Then one day when I was 13 and he was feeling ill my “Irish Twin” brother Bob and I had to go to a barber to get our haircuts. It was the most pleasant haircut of my life!! No barking orders, no restraints, no straight jackets, nothing! Just a really nice hair cutting experience. When it was over I vowed to NEVER let that man near my head with those trimmers again! ;)
Back to little beadle. I still remember it as though it happened yesterday. I was a full three years old, fully potty trained and no doubt very proud of that fact. It was late on a Sunday evening when I had that “brilliant” idea of mine. I thought, wouldn’t it be funny if to put my little Mickey Mouse potty seat over my head and wore it around my neck like some sort of necklace? I mean really, what could POSSIBLY go wrong? So I tried it on for size. It was more snug that I thought it would be so I had to really tug that baby on. And that’s when the wheels stated coming off the wagon. You see, my Mickey Mouse potty seat was nice and smooth on top, but had a very sharp edge on the bottom side that was grabbing my head like barbed fish hook! [I can just imagine the potty seat’s designers putting the finishing touches on their design. One turns to the other and asks if he thinks they should smooth down the bottom edge. And his colleague replies with something like: “What for? It’s not like some kid’s gonna be dumb enough to put the damn thing on this head.”]
So there I was, with a potty seat hopelessly stuck on my head! There’s was nothing I could do but face the music. I walked out into the kitchen that evening as Henry was sitting at the table in his PJ’s perusing what was left of the Sunday paper. He took one look at me and bellowed: “Jeezus Christ! What the hell you do that for?!” I didn’t have the presence of mind then to say something like “Hey man cut me some slack, I’m only 3!” which is probably just as well since doubt that would have gone over very well with my father.
So now he and my mother are struggling to get a potty seat off their son’s head. And boy was that thing ever struck! They used vegetable oil, petroleum jelly, any greasy substance they could find but that baby wasn’t budging. Finally Henry decided he was going to cut the thing off (which is why I just explained the whole haircut experience). Naturally the guy couldn’t find his hack saw so he was forced to tug on some pants over his PJ’s and walk about ten houses down our block to borrow one from his friend, Dick. And as you could imagine, the man was in quite foul mood when he got back. He then begins to cut the potty seat off my head. But does he do it somewhere in the back? No, he chooses to start cutting it just little forward of my right temple where I can clearly see the blade of the saw moving up and down out of the corner of my right eye! And this thing was made with some old school plastic (polycarbonate?) that was rather hard and brittle. So when he starts cutting it’s making this God awful sound that makes nails on a chalk board sound like violin music. And worse yet, that loud, grating cutting sound was reverberating through my skull with each movement of the saw! Now THIS was the real haircut from hell. As he’s doing this I’m beginning to panic as the saw gets closer and closer to my head. So like any three year old I’m yelling “Don’t cut my head daddy, don’t cut my head!!” But does he take the calm “Father Knows Best” approach and say something like “Have no fear my son. I would NEVER do anything to hurt you.” No, he says: “Well I will cut your head if you don’t hold still, now HOLD STILL!!” At this point I’m thinking to myself, he’s not gonna stop cutting when he gets to my head. He’s just gonna keep on going so that for the rest of my life I’ll have some hideous scar down the right side of my face as a constant reminder of the time I got damn potty seat stuck on my head. Then, just as my worst fears were about to be realized, he stopped cutting and I heard a snap. He broke the last little bit of plastic left and I felt the potty seat slowly coming off. Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, I was free at last!! And despite the entire trauma the potty seat was till usable. You just had to be careful not to let your butt cheek get pinched in the little gap that remained. So there you have it folks, the true origin of the term: “S**T HEAD!!” ;)
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Margaret Pryor
277,500
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Thanks Cowbell! My Christmas light invention is one of my favorites. It’s been G7 a few times, but alas it’s seasonal, which as you know makes it more of a challenge to find a home. The news crew was trying so hard to figure out what it could be; a testament that the idea works they way it was intended (to be functional but not obvious).
Betsy, Cowbell was talking about the local news story I did with EN. The link to the story/video is in my micro-blog.
Greg, the umbrella was a nice touch :)
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greg bruce
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Oh god! I never thought about that Betsy. I hope that’s already in the can, but if not, and my product doesn’t sell, well maybe I could generate some support for a career in the Texas gay rodeo.
Chappy those sissies that only go eight seconds need to take a lessson q: D
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Betsy .
185,750
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Awesome story Cowbell, loved it! You’re a GREAT writer!
Wish, I could say the same for your bull riding Greg! It must have been the umbrella! Ha, ha.Now that scene SHOULD have been included in your EE episode! Michael Cable, are ya listening?! :-)
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James Chapman
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Greg, That is hillarious!
Both of you…“It’s the Dad life!”
A have got to an umbrella like that! You lasted more than 8 seconds… That has got to be the secret!
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greg bruce
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Thanks, however I must admit the kindly operator must have had the thing set on “Grandma” mode.
Just finished reading your story. :D :D :D…That was written so well I could picture it all and found myself laughing out loud. Well done!
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Greg M
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Greg, I am stil laughing but must hand it to you….you get a solid 10 for form!!!!!
The umbrella….the poise…the grace…bravo!
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greg bruce
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Greg, Mardi Gras was a blast and in typical fashion I went over the top. Here’s an example of how it’s NOT supposed to be done in Texas. http://www.youtube.com/user/gregbrews/feed?filt...
As always Cathy’s contagious laugh makes it entertaining.
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Greg M
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OK..Will do.
Here is my completely random contribution. :)
http://gregscrazynuttylife.blogspot.com/
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paul ortega
91,500
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That was a great story! I enjoyed it. Thanks for sharing it.
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Beadle Rock
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Damn Greg, I saw that post of yours last night and I noticed it was rather long so I planning on checking it out today. I just got back from helping my daughter and her ski team make dump runs all morning to raise money and when I got home your post was gone! When you get it posted elsewhere please provide the link!
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Betsy .
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Margaret, what was the News story?
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Greg M
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Thanks for the feedback Greg and Margaret - We have a family blog and I tried to copy paste a few random stories…but when I viewed it after posting, it really hogged up the screen- I may transfer it to a blogspot and link it….this thread looked to me like it could morph into a mini-Readers Digest…a mashup of random stories from various EN members….so how was Mardi Gras in Galveston? That sounds like a great time!….And Margaret, I saw your news story—that was an excellent profile! I am still wondering about the Christmas lights invention….keep us updated!
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greg bruce
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Greg, I just got in from a Mardi Gras celebration in downtown Galveston and was looking forward to reading your story. I got caught trying to read it on my phone while cheering it up with some family in a local pub so it had to wait til later. It looked like a good one but your redacting is completely understandable. Been there myself.
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Margaret Pryor
277,500
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OMG, Greg, I’m dying over the bee story. Exactly how I would have responded, except I would not have re-entered the room until after the bee exterminators came out. It probably would have taken me a good year to feel comfortable sleeping in that room again. Too funny! And believe it or not, I have an identical Va Beach story. We stayed in Va Beach on our way home from NYC. We took some wrong turns getting out of NYC and got in super late. I can’t remember the hotel, but we too were given directions to the Naval Base :) I remember it being kind of dark and scary.
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Greg M
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Edited———-Wow!
I had no idea my post had taken up so much space on here….I will try and find another way to post my crazy life short stories…
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Beadle Rock
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OMG Margaret! I can’t even imagine what that must have felt like! And you’re so right about how little kids see things from a TOTALLY different perspective!
I’ve actually been thinking about what Amy said above and I’ve decided to start a book full of anecdotes. My biggest problem is that I can’t actually type. I’m actually fairly quick on the keyboard, but it’s all just accelerated “hunt and peck” and it’s WAY too slow once my thought processes get ramped up. I have a thing called a Smart Pen made by Livescribe that can record everything that’s being said while you write. And when you write in the special notebook it was designed for, it records every single pen stroke. You then dock it to a USB port and all the audio and every scratch you made on the page gets up upload to your puter. (Man, could I ever have used that back when I was in college trying to take notes in chemistry class with a hangover!) But writing is way to slow for me too so I’m just going to start recording the audio onto the pen and my lovely wife who CAN type can transcribe it for me. It should make for a fun project for the two of us.
If I’m really going to do it I probably shouldn’t keep writing my anecdotes here because I may lose the ability to copyright them later, but I’ll share one now that came to mind while I was reading yours. It happened at the little tiny cracker box that my parents owned that served as our summer home at the beach when I was a kid. We had this old (Hotpoint?) refrigerator in the kitchen that was never really sitting level. It leaned slightly forward which meant that the door would sometimes stay open a little unless you pushed it closed which drove my parents crazy with three boys who were ALWAYS in and out of the frig. It also sometimes caused things that were round in shape the roll towards the front of the shelves. One morning after being the first one up I went to get myself some juice or something. I opened the door not realizing that my mother had placed a large, 24 ounce can of stewed tomatoes on the middle shelf. No sooner than I opened the door, the can began to roll off the shelf and out of the frig and before I could even react to what was happening it landed squarely on the big toe of my right foot! I’m guessing that can weighed at least as much as an average brick because it hurt like bloody hell! But get this: That was just the opening salvo. Before I could even scream out in pain I looked down at my toe just in time to see a SECOND 24 ounce can land squarely on the SAME TOE! It was like someone took a hammer gave that toe two quick whacks! Within hours the entire nail turned every cooler of black, blue and purple. Within days the entire toenail fell off. I spent the rest of that summer with no toe nail on that toe!
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Margaret Pryor
277,500
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I agree. Very well written. I had a similar story with a wet wipes container lid. I stuck my thumb in it when I was a kid. When I went to pull it out the sharp plastic starburst points pierced in to my thumb. That sucker really hurt! I remember when they pulled out the scissors, I was panicked because I thought they were going to cut my thumb off. They just cut the starburst out of the lid. Funny how a child’s mind works. :)
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Eric McCoy
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HAHA!! I agree with the others about your writing skills. Well written and presented Beadle!
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greg bruce
111,750
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Well done you little S**T HEAD : D
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Beadle Rock
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Amy & Betsy
You’re too kind! But you did get me thinking. Perhaps I’ll take a break from the inventing gig and write that book that’s been inside me for a long time. That anecdote was just one of MANY!
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Betsy .
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Amy, I agree! You really write a great story Beadle!
Chappy, let’s see what ya got! ;-) My story would be called ‘Accidental Inventor’ ;-)
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James Chapman
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My next post will be “The Chappy in all of us: the saga of self proclaimed genius”. Sounds interesting, right?
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Amy Donahue
227,000
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Beadle,
I enjoyed your story, you have a knack for writing. If you haven’t already considered it, writing might be a great creative outlet for you. There is a cool website owned by Amazon where you can submit written works and for a small fee ($40 ish), they will provide you with an ISBN and make your book available online at Amazon.com. The website is www.createspace.com.
Happy Friday!
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