A Test for True Love

Image result for images of kids playing in the woods

After 39 years of marriage, I’ve finally hit on a test for true love. If you can answer this question “yes,” after 39 years, your marriage is founded on true love. And the question is:

When you think of your wife (or husband), do you ever think, “Gee, I wish we could’ve been kids together!”

Are you kiddin’? Like, as quick as boiled asparagus, baby! How I would have loved for us to play with wax dinosaurs, or my Erector set, or Monopoly, on a rainy summer afternoon. Or to lead her through the woods to Hangman’s Tree. Or to the throne-shaped stone in the woods, that I’ve salvaged, so many years later, to be King Ryons’ throne. You bet I’d like to share those things with Patty! And I’m sure I would’ve enjoyed her father’s running commentary on various radio programs (alas, her parents died before we met).

I am rather glad, though, that she never knew me between the ages of 15 and 25.

Iguana Has Breakfast… with Cat?

Sorry, I couldn’t resist posting this. The iguana in this video looks so much like my iguana did when he was young. You can tell this is a young iguana by his build, by the still barely visible baby-stripes on his dewlap, and by the fact that none of the soft spines on his back have been worn off yet.

You can also tell that this is a good iguana who’s been raised right. He has learned not to be afraid of the cat; in fact, they’re probably friends. The cat has been taught good manners, too. You can see he’s just dying to play with that long, green tail–but he restrains himself.

My mother, my wife, and my neighbor all got into preparing very nice salads for my iguana. It’s very gratifying to feed someone who’s always glad to get it. Nor will I ever forget my mother going around the multiflorabunda rose hedge with a jar to catch bugs for my small lizards. Ma, those were good days!

Memory Lane: Hangman’s Tree

Follow me down Memory Lane, where they can’t find us.

I’m going to take you into Edgar Woods, the forest that grew right next to our neighborhood, right up against the playground. Woods and playground have been torn down, paved over, and made to be as if they never existed but in dreams. But in my memory they’re safe; the orcs can’t touch them there.

We turn off the main path to a crystal spring that bubbles up from clayey soil–cold water that everyone around here drinks, and I never heard of anyone getting sick from it. We are not very far into the woods; faintly, you  can still hear the clink of horseshoes from the playground.

The spring feeds a little brook, and we’ll follow it along its left bank, deeper into the woods. On the right bank the ground is wet and swampy, with lots of skunk cabbage. There are frogs in the water. Here we have another path which will take us to a blue house that stands all alone in the woods, but we’re not going there today.

By and by the brook peters out, but the path continues. Now we can’t hear anything but birds and squirrels. It would seem strange, today, to be at any place where you can’t hear cars and trucks. But not here, not now.

Unexpectedly, the path breaks into a clearing. And there stands Hangman’s Tree, probably the biggest, tallest tree in the county. The other trees, and the underbrush, keep a respectful distance from it. It’s big and black and very, very high. Kid legend has it that this used to be the hanging tree for several towns.

If you can climb any distance up this tree, the view will take your breath away. If the air were clear enough, you might see your way to Spain. Micro-trucks on the highway, micro-boats on the river, the mirror-sheen on the water where the river widens into the bay–it’s easy to lose track of the time when you’re way up there.

Leading out of the clearing, through a stand of sticker-bushes–the whole woods is full of wild blackberries, all you can eat for free–is Soldier’s Path, a mysterious cinder path that will eventually lead you to a sweet little village which has been torn down and paved over for another highway. Other paths will take you out to a bamboo field that marks the boundary of Edgar Woods.

Come up with me, up into Hangman’s Tree, and together we can look for Portugal. Don’t worry about falling. It’s my memory landscape and I will undertake to keep you safe.

I think I want to stay up here for a while.

Remember This?

Leroy Anderson had this hit tune in 1951, The Syncopated Clock.

I remember it as the theme music of The Early Show, back in television’s infancy. It was also the theme of The Late Show, but I wasn’t allowed to stay up anywhere near that late.

I was whistling this tune at the Y when a man stopped me in the hall. “I’m going nuts,” he said, “trying to remember what that’s called!” When I told him, he was delighted. “Of course, that’s it–The Early Show! I knew I’d heard it before, long ago.”

Long ago indeed.