Sunday, May 29, 2011

Weenie Bum

4 random events of this late spring that don't involve wolves...

1) Stuck at a stop for road construction I see three kids marching home from Jr. High School like quintessential 13 year old boys with blood on knees and elbows, the big one in front is singing about some one's mother being a whore and the two little ones behind him are swarming like parasite fish trying to get attention all buck toothed and smiling. The big one's shoes are untied. He turns and swings a ham hock at one of the little ones who puts his bony elbows up in defense and the big kid's fist punches the elbow that is as sharp as exposed rebar on a non-existent Nicaraguan third story. The two little ones laugh as the big one howls and hops around in pain and then he chases, lumbering with papa bear steps and pushes one of the little kids into a hedge. Books go flying and then they start laughing. the bulldozer passes and the cops wave us through so I move toward home.

2) Standing outside on the deck overlooking the street-lit neighborhood, I hear a girl's voice singing, "Ding dong, the witch is dead." She's probably 7 years old and her voice carries over the trees with the scent of bbq corn and hot dogs and pasta salad. "Lalalalal, " she vocalizes the words she doesn't remember but the melody is pretty close. I open the screen door and go inside.

3) Two kids around the age of 8 bicycle down the street with no training wheels. Helmets on. The little one follows a bigger one, perhaps his brother. "Weenie, bum weenie bum." they chant. "Weenie!" I'm in my van organizing my belongings in secrecy. "Weenie bum." Soon a half dozen 7-10 year old kids are on the curb behind my van. What the hell? There are no parents around. I'm trapped, so I listen.
The boy says, "He's a weenie."
A girl says, "I'm telling dad that you said that."
"What did I say?"
"Weenie."
"If you tell him then I'll tell him you said it too."
"But I didn't."
"Did too. Just now."
"That's not the same."
"Is too, weenie bum."

If I get out now I'll probably scare them all to death and encourage the pedophile patrol to descend on Elwyn and Lincoln. I stay put and escape when the ice cream truck appears.

4) The big kid from the first scene struts his lumbering strut near two girls about his age, half escorting them home. They are all in the middle of the Elwyn Ave. I can't hear what he's saying but he's making up some story about his father being a jet pilot or how he's going to be a Navy Seal when he grows up and loses 50 pounds. The girls scoff with their neat hair and decorated backpacks and nimble fingers texting while carrying on two conversations. To prove his mettle, the big kid kicks his right shoe off and like a soccer ball it flies high near my van and plops down near the tires of an oncoming car. The girls get out of the way as the boy rescues his shoe by shoving his foot into it and walking away with a hopping gait. The car slowly creeps by and the girls by way of a wave apologize for the delay. The boy grabs his crotch to show the nonplussed driver he'll do what he pleases. The girls make faces but laugh. The boy's shoes remain untied as he shuffles along as an escort.

I struggle to fit all of these vignettes into my "The world is ending" theory but fail so terribly that I almost feel a sprout of hope in my Grinch-inhabited heart. Is it possible that the Great Jigsaw Puzzle can not be solved since new pieces keep getting made that don't fit the puzzle you are working on? Eventually, you will get sandwiched between layers of new pieces in an attempt to finish a puzzle that no one will ever see.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.