SPIKE AND I CRUSH CANS

I had a couple bags of aluminum cans sitting on the porch, and since there wasn’t anything worth watching on the telly, Spike and I decided to crush ’um and cash in. We set a cinder block on the tailgate and smacked the cans with a brickbat. Not bad work if you can get it, but it’s hard on a man’s back.

I crushed the Sundrop cans and Spike took care of the Busch.

Sweet, syrupy soda squirted me every time I smacked a can and I guess the Magnolia tree couldn’t compete, because after half a bag the YellowJackets started buzzing around me and Spike. I grew up in the country amongst snakes, spiders, bees, and all sorts of varmints, so a Yeller Jacket ain’t nothing but a thing. But Spike got right nervous and started wind milling his arms. That just stirred up the wasps, and they called in reinforcements. I got stung on the hand and Spike smacked it with the brick. Not the best way to kill a wasp, and I couldn’t tell where the YellowJackets blood left off and my began, but the numbness did kill the sting.
Spike got stung on the ass a couple of times, seeing as how that’s the part of his self he showed the wasps, but I gotta give the boy credit; for a brain tumor, he sure can run.

I mixed us up a poultice of wet tobacco and we managed to draw most of the stingers out. We sold the cans for ten bucks, bought another six pack of Busch, and had enough left over to buy Spike a can of Raid.

TIPTOE THROUGH THE TOMATO'S

I got a late start on my garden this year. I say garden, but in fact it's just a few potted vegetables. So far, I have two tomato plants and two habanero peppers. I'm going to add some jalapenos and herbs.

Spike decided he wanted to try his hand at gardening this year. Spike doesn't have a green thumb. In fact, he doesn't have thumbs. Spike is my brain tumor.

The first thing Spike planted was a light bulb. I was surprised to see what sprouted.

He also grew this. I'm afraid to ask him how he did it.

THE KEY TO HAPPINESS

Like most kids, my nine year old nephew Joel has more questions than I have answers. The other day he wanted to know why crows get chased by small birds. I always try to give the boy the straight scoop.

Unfortunately, he asked Spike about the birds.

Spike is my brain tumor. I named him because I got tired of referring to him as a benign acoustic neuroma brain tumor. Spike is easier. We look a lot alike, Spike and me, so I can see how my nephew confused us. Spike is not the best person to answer a young boy’s questions. His wiring is a little screwed up. And he’s no friend of the truth.

So when Joel asked Spike about the crow, Spike told him this.

“When the earth was young, Woodstock, the wizard of the wood, gave the key to happiness to the Mockingbird People. He knew they would safeguard the key, as everyone knows Mockingbirds hold no one in high esteem.
Of course, everyone wanted the key. They had all heard the song,’don’t worry, be happy’, so they sent soldiers to steal the key from the Mockingbird People.
An Opossum was dispatched, but halfway through the journey he was surprised by a wild dog. The Opossum lay down and played dead. While playing dead, he suffered a massive heart attack and died.
A tyrannosaurus was sent, but before he finished the long, arduous journey, he became extinct.
A pig was sent next. The old sow figured she could make better time flying, so she got a running start and launched herself from a high cliff. The porker dropped like a stone. As a result, people today still say, ‘when pigs fly’.
The people of the woods voted, and a fox was elected to steal the key. It is well know a fox is sly. Because of his cunning, the fox studied on how best to steal the key. He studied the ways of the Mockingbird. He charted their migratory patterns. He read everything known about their ability to imitate other people. The more the fox learned, he harder it was for him to formulate a plan. Eventually, he went mad and was last seen stealing grapes.
Finally, a crow volunteered. A shinny dingus is irresistible to crows who will steal anything not nailed down. The crow flew straight to the Mockingbird People and snatched the glinting piece of metal.
And to this day, you can still see Mockingbirds chasing Crows through the skies of the earth looking for the purloined key.

My nephew, to his credit, hasn’t repeated this to anyone.

SPIKE BUYS A PHOTO ALBUM

Spike and I went yard sailing Saturday. Spike is my brain tumor, and since we are going to be together for awhile, I decided to name him. Actually, he picked the name Spike. I wanted to call him Leon.

We had a poor start. I had a headache and wanted to sleep in, but Spike kept calling me Nancy-boy, so I threw back the covers and we hit the road. Despite the pleasant weather not many folks were holding sales. And the first three were duds. Nothing but baby clothes and Family Dollar do dads. I was ready to head for home, but Spike insisted we keep looking for loot.

Spike fancies himself a pirate. To him, yard sale signs are treasure maps and he's always ready to dig for booty. He'll swagger across a yard full of junk, despite his limp, searching for pieces of eight, McCoy pottery, old books, gold doubloons, and vintage fishing lures. The pirate wants me to wear an eye patch. I might do it if it will shut him up.

Spike pointed out a yard sale sign I missed. I hit the brakes and made the turn. We drove a couple of miles but couldn't find the place. I was ready to give up but Spike told me to keep driving. We rounded a curve and found the joint. Spike starting singing something about a bottle of rum as we got out of the car. Now, Spike ain't got the best voice, and people were starting to snicker, so I told him to shut the hell up.

I found a bunch of books. Four leather bound Jeppesen Airway Manuals,
a couple of turn of the century religious pamphlets, and an old telephone directory from Virginia.

Spike found another old photograph album. Spike likes to pretend the photos of strangers he finds at yard sales are his family. When the woman holding the sale asked Spike if he was creating an instant family, Spike told her, "My relatives aren't that good looking and I'm replacing them with a better looking class of people."

That's Spike. The guy's a nut.