Archive for February, 2008

a Tadpole Tale

Current temp at Frogtown is 4.7° actual.  Wind chill is about -20.

Got some nifty snow devils going out in the field.

        Not to be perverse or anything, but we could use a little global warming in our micro cosmism

Which reminds me of a story (from The Tadpole Tales)…

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        When I was a kid – maybe 7 or 8- back at Burns Park Elementary, us boys would sneak off behind the school during recess. It was dark and quiet there. Cool place to hang out, away from the girls and teachers.

        One day a Fred was picking his nose. Then he flicked the booger at a lady bug crawling along the ground. He missed, fortunately for the lady bug.

        Next thing you know couple of other kids were trying to hit the bug. All of them missed. But it was entertaining.

We made up “rules”:

1)      the one who hits closest to the target wins.

     – since the lady bug had moved on – a rock near her original location.

2)      ya had to stand behind the foul line – a stick
3)      we had to take turns.
4)      spitying and lougies counted half points.
5)      We had to take turns.
6)      No girls allowed – they thought it was gross anyway
7)      No telling teachers or parents.

Word spread through the whole school. Kindergarten through 6th grade kids were competing. Big kids had to flick from back further, while little kids got to be closer.

        Well, it wasn’t too long before the target was covered in boogers, snot, lougies, and spit. ‘Course nobody volunteered to replace or clean the target. We were boys, but not entirely stupid.

        As the days and weeks went by, the pile grew. Size of a baseball then a softball.. then a soccer ball.  By this time our game had pretty much petered out. Now it was a major group effort to just make the biggest pile we could. Aim for the Guinness Record.

        It was pretty disgusting – even by our standards. But fascinating too. A gross gleaming gelatinous greenish gooey glob. In fact, that’s what we named it. The Glob. It was sort of like the antagonist in Steve McQueen’s first movie, The Blob. Only ours was real.

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        Finally one day, when The Glob was almost a high as we were, it began to wiggle and jiggle. Like Jello. Lemon-Lime Jello. At first we thought it might be the wind. But there wasn’t any. Or maybe an earthquake. Or maybe it was alive!

        Then it made a sound. A wheezy whistle, & a burbling belch.  We all got quiet to listen, and move forward a bit. But not too much.

        And THEN it began to speak! It said in a high nasally voice:

“If you keep sticking your finger up your nose, it will get stuck.”

WOW. We ran screaming back to the playground, sunlight and safety. We huddled next to the jungle gym, and eventually calmed down a bit. We talked about what we heard, and agreed that the fun was over and we should pay attention to the advice we had been given. After all, when a booger talks, it’s nothing to sneeze at.

        All of  us except Irving. He poo-poo’d the whole thing, and said he’d do what ever he wanted. Nobody liked Irwin. He was a snotty kid.

        The very next day Irving walked in to the classroom with his right index finger in his left nostril. Miss D’Meener took one look at him and said, “Irwin William MacWilliams. Take your finger out of your nose this instant.”

        ” I can’t.” he wined, making an obvious effort to tug his digit free.

Our teacher sent Betty Sue to get the nurse. The nurse tried rubbing Vaseline on the exposed portion of his finger, then tugging on his arm. The finger only wedged itself deeper.

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        A few of the girls giggled at the sight of Irwin in distress. Us guys were solemn and silent, in awe that the fearful prophecy had come true.

        They called the Fire Department. It was cool to see the fire engine come wailing up the street and pull into the parking lot. Firemen in yellow rubber coats and black rubber boots with axes and other fireman stuff came into our room. A couple of them smirked and chuckled at first. That stopped when they were unable to dislodge his finger, even with two firemen holding Irwin’s and a third pulling on his arm.

Bill, the janitor was sweeping up the hall, using his big push broom and that weird red sawdust. He glanced in the open door and saw what was going on. He looks thoughtful a minute, muttered something to himself then disappeared.

        A couple of minutes later he reappeared with an oil can with a long spout and a big monkey wrench. He poked the spout into the other nostril. He squirted oil up there. Oil cans make a cool noise when you push on the bottom. Sort of a dink-boink sound.  Bill tightened the monkey wrench on Irwin’s finger. Irwin’s eyes had pretty much rolled up out of sight and he was only making little whimpering noises.

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        Bill gave the wrench tug clockwise, then counter clockwise. He squirted more oil. The finger twisted a little at first, more and more with each tug of the wrench.  All of a sudden the finger popped out. Irwin slumped to the floor. Bill picked up his stuff and went back to sweeping the hall.

        The lesson of the day was:

                 “Don’t Ignore Globular Warning”

[inspired by an invitation to participate in Earth Hour 8pm March 29, 2008 ]

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