When It Is High Time

My wife and I went out to get the yard work done on Saturday. With my bum knee, I’m kind of limited as to what I can do and how long that I can do it. Therefore, chasing the lawnmower is her task. I usually do the edging and trimming and take a few breaks before I get done.

She was outside a little ahead of me. When I stepped out of the garage, I found her with one of the Do-All ladders at the base of the palm tree with a bow saw in her hand. I know how much she hates climbing but I really didn't want to go up the ladder with my bum knee if I could help it. She also has a burning intolerance for palm fronds that have fallen against the trunk of the tree.

When I say that my wife hates climbing, I mean that she is so fearful of heights that she is an incorrigible ladder hugger. She had the ladder set as an A-frame but adjusted to only five-feet of height for ten-feet of reach. I knew that she wasn't going to get her waist level over the top level of that ladder.

She went up two rungs and was able to reach the hanging palm frond with the tip of the bow saw. She couldn't get enough leverage to make the cut with the long reach. Down the ladder she came with the intent of stretching it up higher.

The most that she was going to get was another two feet and, even then; she was going to struggle to reach the hanging frond. Worse, the ladder was on an uneven surface and more likely to kick out when reaching from the additional height. I intervened and showed her how to flip the Do-All ladder into a straight ladder. This put the top of the ladder ten feet up and at even height with the hanging frond and two blossomed seed pods that also needed to be cut down.

The sad thing about people who fear heights is that they trust an A-frame ladder over a straight ladder that is leaned against a structure. The A-frame ladder has four points of contact on the ground. Therefore, it is much more likely than a straight ladder to tip over with a shift in weight at the top.

The straight ladder has only three points of contact. Two are on the ground. The third is on the structure to which it leans. Even with an uneven base the straight ladder is going to settle into three points of contact better than four points on an A-frame.

My wife was trying to get a task done so I certainly give her credit for that. There are just some people that don’t belong on a ladder. I learned to climb ladders as youth when helping my father to paint houses and farm buildings so I know what to expect from them.

She put her weight to the first rung and the ladder shifted to settle into the uneven ground surface. That is quite normal. Had she continued, without fear, the ladder would have held just fine where I had set it to cut the frond and seed blossoms. Instead, she moved the ladder to other side of the tree where the ground was more level. This time she made it up three ladder rungs before coming back down.

Bless her heart. She was trying to get the job done so that I wouldn't climb the ladder. However, watching her on that ladder was a lot like watching a groundhog trying to copy a squirrel running across a power line.

I took the saw and went up the ladder while she threw a fit for fear that I might fall. She tried to steady the ladder for me with a death grip. Then when I came back down I almost tripped off of the ladder because I didn't see her hand in my way.

I had to move the ladder back to where I originally had it in order to cut the two seed blossoms down. When she moved to hold the ladder this time, I chased her away.

“If my 200 lbs falls from this ladder and you’re below then both of us get hurt. What’s the sense to that? Somebody has to be able to call 911.”

She didn't like my logic so asked her another question.

“How much experience do you have in climbing?”

“Not much,” she conceded.

“How much experience do I have?”

“A lot.”

“Okay. I would not attempt to tell you how to hem a pair of pants so don’t tell me how to use a ladder.”

She had heard me tell stories of stepping across ladders 30-40 feet in the air with a paint spray gun while my dad moved the ladders ahead of me from the ground below. We could make much faster time with two painters this way than by having each painter up and down the ladder to move his ladder over.

The next thing I shouldn't have done but I couldn't resist. I finished cutting the seed blossoms down and, while at the top of the ladder, I pulled it away from the tree trunk and shifted it first to the left and then to the right. She had another fit while I grinned down at her.

I don’t have the balance that I did years back or I would have walked the ladder away from the tree like a pair of stilts and tipped it back down to the ground. In addition to my lack of balance, I’m sure that my knee wouldn't have suffered the impact very well. Worse, she might have tried to step in to catch me and we both would have been hurt. Some stupid stunts are better left just talked about.

All in all, I think that it’s normal for two people to depend on the other’s strengths. At the same time it’s good for them to be as interchangeable as possible in case a situation requires it. Then there are some things that just need to be left alone. A shark will never hunt on land and wolf will never learn to scuba dive.

Parents Say the Stupidest Things

There were no words from my childhood that I hated more to hear from a parent or other authority figure than “because I said so.” It was my mother’s favorite response. If any of us were stupid enough to utter the word “why” after we were already told, “No,” then that was the answer. What kind of a reason is that?

Can you imagine how far it would go if a child tried that line?

Parent: “Go take out the trash.”

Kid: “No.”

Parent: “Why not?”

Kid: “I don’t want to.”

Parent: “Why not?”

Kid: “Just because I said so.”

First of all, I would have had to be suffering from some sort of involuntary speech disorder to even get the word “no” past my lips when addressing one of my parents. Second, realizing the folly of such an action, I would have been immediately running for my life with the trash in hand and begging for mercy all the way. It’s fun to wonder about it though.

My father’s favorite saying was little more elaborate. It went something this. “If I have to tell you again then me an’ you are gonna’ be goin’ to the hospital to get my foot taken out of your butt.”

Just try to visualize that for a moment. Here is a child walking kind of stooped over for the discomfort of the forcibly placed foot in his backside. Hopping on one foot behind is the father and owner of said foot. How are they even going to get in and out of the car or an ambulance, for that matter, to get to the hospital? This is more of a Squad 51 job that would require separation at the scene before transporting to Rampart.

Once at the hospital, the dad is going to be in big trouble. Child protective service is going to take issue with a boot in a child’s bootie. Therefore, the threat is a non-threat. He ain’t gonna’ do it. He’s gonna’ do something, though. You could count on it.

Then there was the line, “Don’t you lie to me. If you tell me the truth, you’re still going to get it but you won’t get it as bad as if I figure out that you’re lying to me.”

Okay, so let’s weigh in on this. If I tell the truth then I’m going to get beat. If I get caught lying then I’m going to get beat. If I lie but don’t get caught then I won’t get beat. Any kid with the good sense that the good Lord gave him is going to go for the lie every time.

How is he going to know that I lied anyway unless my little sister knows? If she did know, we wouldn't be having a discussion because she already would have spilled the whole story complete her own embellishments. She was always more than willing to step forward with her version of the truth. I don’t know if she just loved sibling suffering or it was simply the attention that she won for herself. Maybe it was some of both.

I remember one Saturday that my cousin and I left a Boy Scout patrol meeting that ended early. Instead of going straight home we went down to the river for some quality time away from adults. There is nothing better to hold the attention of 12 year-olds than hanging out at the river.

Unfortunately, we lost track of time as we were cleaning all of the flat rocks off the sand bar. We found some nice skippers, too. Our parents began to worry and called the patrol leader’s parents to find out that the meeting had ended hours ago.

I walked into the house, after being gone for about six hours, to the roar of, “Where have you been?” I should have known by the fury in his eyes and voice that I was already busted. However, since I was certain that my little sister didn't know, I went for the lie. That was it. Game over!

“Alright, if you’re going to lie to me then you’re going to get a beating.”

After the fact, it was amusing how he said that. It wasn't like I wasn't going to get beat anyway with my dad having had hours to build up a rage. I have to give the old man credit, though. He always gave me chance to defend myself before he beat me.

A few years later, when my cousin and I had our own cars, my cousin stayed out too late one night. When he got home there was no immediate discussion. As soon as he walked in the door, his face collided with a fist full of fatherly knuckles. When he came to, there was a discussion, but no dialogue.

My dad also had this other theory that if he couldn't figure out who was lying then he would beat the whole bunch to be certain that he got the right one. Then whoever didn't do it could beat on the one that did it in order to even things up. I don’t think that Dr. Phil would have approved of that theory.

The plan had two serious flaws anyway. The younger siblings weren't strong enough to beat on the older ones. If an older sibling got caught beating on the younger ones then one of my parents would beat them for that. My little sister wouldn't take a beating for you anyway. She would rat you out in a heartbeat, whether you did it or not, and then beam with satisfaction while she told on you.

I remember once, in one of my less than sterling moments as a parent, I tried that idea of whipping all of my kids for lack of finding out whodunit. It started as a bluff. I thought that somebody would give up the culprit. The problem was that my little sister wasn't there.

I told them to line up and bend over just like my dad used to do.  I seldom spanked my kids and I really didn't want to go through with it. I laid the folded belt across three butts but I was careful not to hit too hard.

I swear to this day that one of the boys launched off like he’d been mule-kicked before the belt even touched him. He went into the air like he was doing a swan dive. He tucked and rolled before he hit the floor and sat there screaming like he had been soccer-kicked in the man parts.

I stood back in complete awe. I didn't know whether to laugh or make him get up for a replay. I talked to his mother about it later and she wanted to enroll him in private gymnastics lessons. She was certain that we had a gold medal Olympian on our hands. At least, a stunt man for the movies, I agreed.

One of the stupidest things that both of my parents used say was, “Do you want me to give you something to bawl about?”

Picture this. You've just had the living crap kicked out of you and you’re, quite naturally, wailing and carrying on from the emotional, as well as, physical trauma of it all. Then you hear the most ignorant question that a parent could ask a kid in this situation.

“Do you want me to give you something to bawl about?”

What are you supposed to say?

“No, Dad. That won’t be necessary. You've done a pretty fair job of that already.”

Then She Said, "No."

They were both seventeen. They had been dating for several months. At first, there were boundaries. Gradually, the boundaries gave way to curiosity and good feelings of being touched in certain places and in certain ways.

With practice of the intimate touching, the want of mutual excitement and pleasure sometimes became irresistible for both of them. Whenever they could find some private time, buttons, hooks, clasps, snaps, buckles and zippers were no barrier to the new found skills of each partner’s fingers and hands. One boundary, however, remained intact.

As enjoyable as the kissing, petting and hand-manipulated climaxes were, she was determined that one line would not be crossed. He, too, enjoyed the pleasures that they shared but his hormonal urges drove him on. He was patient with her while he pressed for the ultimate prize.

They loved each other, didn’t they? They would be married someday, wouldn’t they? What difference could it matter, when they accepted each other fully, as long as they were in love and committed to each other for life?

He finally wore her down. She agreed to go all the way for the boy that she loved. It was much like all of the other intimate times except that the clothing fell away a little faster this time. They giggled, frolicked and petted in their youthful infatuation for each other as they always did.

He promised not to hurry her. He said that he would be gentle. When she was ready she turned onto her back, opened herself to him and pulled him to her.

As he poised above her, about to part her hymen, she saw the look in his eyes change. His eyes no longer showed the love that she was certain was there and that she had seen so many times before. The look in his eyes was more of one about to conquer another.

Then she said, “No.”

Seeing his look change to deep disappointment, she expressed her regret and empathy. Clearly, if she was going deny him then the timing was the absolute worst. He turned onto his back beside her and quietly stared at the ceiling.

Like a scolded puppy’s tail, his erection settled between his legs. Cautiously, she snuggled next to him and continued to express her regret. She didn’t mention the look in his eyes that had changed her mind at the last moment. She fabricated other reasons for stopping him that had to do with family and values.

He continued to listen patiently until she had nothing more to say. Satisfied that she had spoken her mind he pulled closer and kissed her forehead.

“It’s okay.”

That was all that he said. They lay in the each other’s embrace for a time and then she began to pinch one of his nipples while her tongue flicked the other.

The reaction was immediate. She leaned to look into his eyes. They both smiled.

“I don’t want you to go home with blue balls. May I take care of that for you?”

He smiled again and nodded before kissing her passionately. His body was soon convulsing with pleasure. They quietly lay together a little longer before getting dressed. Then he took her home.

They continued to date but, with the dawn of their adult lives after high school graduation, they went in different directions. Eventually they lost touch with each other as they had made separate lives. From time-to-time a thought of the other would pass through each of their minds.

The thoughts are of memories cherished of times long passed. There are no strings and there are no regrets. It was simply very special.

Ballad to the Ohio Family Everglades

(To the tune of the Gilligan's Island theme song)

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, 

A tale of a fateful trip 
That started from this swampy dock 
Aboard this air-boat craft. 

The mate was a mighty Super Mom, 
The skipper was the Dad. 
With three sons they left the dock that day 
For a three hour tour, a three hour tour. 

The fishing had been very good, 
But then the boat was caught, 
If not for the courage of the fearless crew 
The air-boat would be lost, the air-boat would be lost. 

The boat got stuck in cypress knees of a narrow waterway. 
With Mother Schreck 
And Father Schreck, 
A nine-year-old, who was a son, 
Two brothers were
Aged seven years and four, 
Here in Everglades Park. 


So this is the tale of a family lost, 
They're here for an overnight, 
They'll have to make the best of things, 
To endure their swampy fright. 

The first mate and the Skipper too, 
Will do their very best, 
To make the children comfortable, 
In the tropic swampy mess. 

No phone, no lights no iphone apps, 
Not a bit of technology, 
Like the Survivors on TV, 
As primitive as can be. 

So join us for the rescue, friends, 
You're sure to get a smile, 
When the family of five is found all well, 
Here in Everglades Park."

Planning a Family Outing in the Everglades

Let’s say you have the family all together in Florida and a friend there offers you the loan of his air-boat to go on a self-guided tour of the Everglades. Keep in mind that most everything in the Everglades is going to scratch you, stick you, sting you, bite you or eat you. How would you prepare, being that this is your first time ever in the Florida Everglades?

First of all, we have to assume that, even though it was 44 year-old Scott Schreck’s first time in the Everglades, he was probably a skilled air-boat pilot. That is a skill that would have easily been picked up in his native Ohio. If not, then likely his 42 year-old wife or one of their three children, aged 9, 7 and 4 were skilled in air-boat operation.

Next, be certain to take along plenty of food and water in case you unexpectedly spend the night in the Everglades with your family. That turned out to be the one of the correct things that Scott did. He, at least, didn't have to bed the kids down hungry that night. If one of them wanted a drink of water before going to sleep, well, he had that covered too.

Take a lot of gear for fishing. The family actually had great fishing. According to Scott, they caught several nice bass. Young boys love to fish.

Take extra clothing. If you’re in the Everglades overnight, then shorts and T-shirts won’t be adequate. Campfires are not allowed in the Everglades even if your young children are freezing in their shorts and T-shirts.

If you’re a novice in the Everglades then camouflage might not be best choice of colors for your borrowed air-boat  Search parties have a tough time seeing camouflage in the lush tropical setting. If your air-boat must be camouflage then maybe you should take to a good sized plastic tarp in bright orange, blue or other such color that can easily be spotted by a search party.

A good tarp could also second as shelter when you and your family are huddled for warmth in the overnight tropical rain. Tarps tend to shed rain water a lot better than life jackets stacked on a makeshift lean-to. The family will love you for the thought.

Personally, I've never been into the Everglades off of Interstate Highway 75. Even so, I have a pretty good idea that those huge white on green directional signs that guide motorists on our interstates probably aren't duplicated in the pristine wild of the Everglades. After all, the Everglades were violated quite enough when they built I-75 across the virgin beauty of saw grass and wetlands.

As for signs, let’s be realistic as to their value. Even with the HUGE white-lettered on green reflective background signs, motorists still get lost on our interstate highways if they’re not familiar with where they are going. I have to believe that the same possibility applies to novice air-boat pilots without an experienced guide.

We have to give kudos to Scott Schreck for thinking to bring noisy horns and whistles. Without those or a bright colored tarp the search parties may never have found the stranded family. How the rescuers heard the whistles and horns over the sounds of their helicopter and air-boat engines is a pure amazement, though.

No doubt, fear of another night in the Everglades without shelter was a strong motivator for making a LOT of noise to attract rescuers. It only took one night huddled under a pile of life jackets in the rain and wearing only shorts and T-shirts to know that Tom Bodette didn't leave the light on for them. Noise like that had to make the wildlife wonder if it a tropical Armageddon was upon them.

In all seriousness, we have to give credit to the Schreck family. In spite of the any shortfalls in planning or preparation, they remained calm and did their best with what they had. Their ability to survive a dark, rainy night among the mosquitoes and various frightening critters of the Everglades without panicking is highly commendable. They must have thought that they were very far, far away from Ohio. We're glad that they were rescued without negative incident.

Fear Meets Empathy

The sheriff turned off the county blacktop onto a gravel road. The young man in the backseat of the cruiser was both handcuffed and blindfolded. Fearful already, the sound of gravel under the tires put a quake through his body.

Blindfolded or not, Matt Engle sensed the rolling hills and curves as the cruiser traveled about eight miles before stopping. When the car came to a stop the engine was shut off. Night sounds came in through the sheriff’s open window.  He turned toward his passenger.

“Now son, I’m gonna’ get you outta’ this car and walk you a short distance. You are not to speak nor make any move that might cause me to believe that you want to do anything but cooperate. Do you clearly understand me?”

“Yes sir.” Matt wanted to ask what was happening and why he had been arrested but he thought better of it. For now, he would follow instructions.

The rear door of the cruiser opened and he felt a hand on his arm draw him out. Another rested on his head and pressed down gently as he stepped out of the car. Once on his feet, the gravel crunched under Matt’s boots as he was guided about fifty feet from the car.

The hand that had guided him let loose and he heard footsteps on the gravel going back to the direction of the sheriff’s cruiser. A car door opened and closed. An engine was started and sounds of the car faded into the distance leaving only the night sounds of the woods.

The music of crickets played in the darkness around Matt. A bullfrog called out. There was a faint owl hoot from somewhere far off.

With his hands cuffed behind him Matt couldn't remove the blindfold. Then, through the blindfold, he sensed bright lights upon him. A silhouette moved toward him from the lights. The silhouette had a familiar voice. It was his girlfriend’s grandfather.

“Young man, I have some questions for you that have to do with your interest in my granddaughter. All that I ask is that you answer my questions honestly and completely. I will not tolerate any attempts at deception.”

Matt did not immediately respond. Fear sent a quiver through his body.

“Do you understand me, boy?”

The tone of the old man’s voice was calm and even but the words that he spoke clearly imparted his intended meaning. Ashley and Matt had been dating for about three months. She was a high school junior and he was a senior.

“Yes, Mr. Johnson.”

A hand removed Matt’s blindfold from behind him. Ashley’s grandfather, though silhouetted, was identifiable by the car headlights behind him. Matt squinted into the bright lights.

“First let me explain some things to you, son. You see, my wife and I were blessed with five wonderful sons. It took another generation for us to know the pure joy of having girls in our family. They were given to us as granddaughters.” The old man paused and studied Matt’s face. “Now, Ashley’s father, my son, has the responsibility of two other daughters and their mother. Therefore, as much as he is obligated to protect his family, he has less room for risk than I do. You see, son, I’m just a crazy old man in the autumn of a very good life. Are you beginning to get my meaning, son?”

Matt’s mind raced with worry as to what the old man might know of his intimacy with Ashley and what might not have been acceptable to the elders. His first attempt to respond cracked in his throat. He cleared his throat and was successful on the second effort.

“Yes sir.”

“Are your intentions with my granddaughter honorable?”

Matt couldn't lie but he feared telling the truth. Unimaginable fear triggered his bladder to empty. He could feel the warmth spiraling half around and down his left leg under his dungarees. His body involuntarily convulsed with the fear that was tightening around him.

Leon Johnson didn't miss the scent of fresh urine but he didn't let on. He was trying to be patient. He repeated the question but, this time, the words were much more deliberate.

“Are your intentions with my granddaughter honorable? Answer the question, son.”

The three words “answer the question” echoed in Matt’s mind. That was it. All he had to do was answer the question.

“Yes sir, Mr. Johnson. My intentions with Ashley are nothing but honorable. I like her very much. I would never intentionally hurt her.”

Matt thought that the old man’s face was beginning to relax and soften. The two men each gazed into the other’s soul through the depths of the eyes looking back at them.

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“Oh, yes sir!”

The two men, one young and one old, continued to search the other’s eyes. Then the old man raised his right arm in a circular gesture. Five more pair of headlights lit up the night in a semi-circle around the two men.

No less than twelve silhouettes were closing around them now. In addition, Matt heard the gravel crunch under footsteps behind him. Two hands gripped each of Matt’s wrists from behind.

This time fear let his bowel loose into his whitey tighties. His knees started to buckle but, with a steadying hand on his arm, he regained himself enough to stay standing. A key turned in the handcuffs and they were removed.

“I ain't gonna’ need you men. You can go on home now. Thank you for being here, though.”

Without another response, the silhouettes turned back to the headlights. All but Leon Johnson’s vehicle filed out and down the gravel road toward their homes. Leon’s nostrils twitched.

“Did you have another accident, boy?”

“Yes sir… you had me scared half to death.”

A younger man came from behind Matt with the handcuffs and stood alongside of his grandfather. Matt recognized him as Ashley’s cousin. Jeff was about Matt’s build.

“I have some clothes at the hunting cabin that will fit him, Grandpa. He can shower there.”

“A’ight. Matt, we’re gonna’ take you to clean up but you’re gonna’ have to ride in the back of my pick-up as you are now. I am sincerely sorry for the trouble but I just cain’t have you in my cab like that.”

Too embarrassed to speak, Matt nodded. The cabin was just a mile farther down the road.

At the cabin, on Jeff’s suggestion, Matt stripped in the yard. Most of the mess stayed with his whitey tighties. He made use of a garden hose before Jeff showed him to the shower and clean clothing. 

The two men were waiting for Matt in the great room of the cabin when he finished. The ride back to town was quiet at first. Feeling some confidence, Matt broke the silence.

“Mr. Johnson, may I tell you something?”

“You certainly can, son.”

“I understand your desire to protect your granddaughter more than you may know.”

“How is that, son?”

Matt went on to tell the story of his older sister, of whom he had only vague memories. Most of his memories are from what his mother has told him. His father has never talked about her.

Matt’s sister, Jeannie, became pregnant when she was seventeen-years-old. The man was nineteen. What Jeannie said of the incident clearly made it a date rape. She had said “no” over and over throughout the entire ordeal.

Jeannie didn’t tell her parents anything until she realized that she was carrying a child. By then, there was no evidence to bring charges against the man. He denied forcing himself on her.

The young man made Jeannie out to be a slut. He insisted that he was only taking his turn with a toy that had been around for quite a few rides. In fact, he had taken her virginity and much more.

 Jeannie lost the baby in mid-term. She went from being a top achiever in school and extra-curricular activities to a drop-out and began using drugs. It took her eleven months to destroy herself.

At the burial, Jeannie’s father saw the catalyst, in the crowd of mourners that had caused the last year and a half of misery and loss. Some say that it was guilt that brought him there. To Jeannie’s father, in the pain of his losing his beautiful daughter, it was pure and blatant audacity.

Jeannie’s father beat that young man nearly to death right there at his daughter’s burial before she was lowered into the ground. Several other people were injured for trying to stop him. The man did actually die a few days later in the hospital.

Matt lost his father while he served jail time for manslaughter. At the end of his sentence he came back home to continue taking care of his family but he was never whole again. The light was no longer in his eyes. He had given up his soul to avenge his daughter.

The family moved to another state in order to start fresh when Matt’s father returned. They were provided for much better with the father home but Matt never had a father again. His love of life had died with his daughter.

“You see, Mr. Johnson, you didn't need to scare the shit out of me. Whether or not Ashley and I devote our lives to each other remains to be seen. We're still very young. One thing is certain though. I’ll never do anything less than honorable toward your granddaughter or any other woman. I can’t be a part of the pain that I've seen for somebody doing less. I've seen beauty wither and die before it could fully blossom. I've seen a mother go on in spite of the permanent pain of losing her child. I've seen a shell of man, who couldn't protect what was most precious to him, continue in his duties while incapable of joy for his efforts. I've suffered because these were the people closest to me.”

Matt paused. As he continued his words were of empathy and sincere respect.

“Do you believe now that my intentions with Ashley are honorable, Mr. Johnson?”

The old man would not turn his head toward Matt. He didn't want the young man to see his glazed eyes. He spoke softly, yet deliberately.

“I reckon I do, son... I reckon I do.”

A tear escaped down the tough old man’s weathered cheek.

Shower and Drip Dry

We had a small, out of town, family reunion this weekend that involved my son, two of his daughters and I sharing hotel accommodations. On Saturday afternoon, the girls were preparing to use the hotel pool with their cousin. They had towels from the hotel bathroom under their arms.

I stopped them before they left and encouraged them to use pool towels in order to keep the bath towel for showers. They acknowledged.

Everyone except I did their bathing before bed on Saturday night. The next morning I woke early and quietly gathered my toiletries. In the bathroom were four blue-striped pool towel in corner on the floor.

Unfortunately, every other piece of bath linen, with exception of one used towel, was also in the heap. My son had hung his towel over the shower curtain rod to dry. I considered my choices.

In theory, the hanging towel had dried a clean body and thus was clean itself. This was my son so I could get by with that towel. It wasn't like risking the transfer of a skin disorder from total stranger.

At least, a contagion from this towel would be kept in the family. I didn't get a lot of comfort in the notion though. It reminded me of few paragraphs in 'Tis, the autobiography of the late author, Frank McCourt.

Mr. McCourt described living in a rooming house where he shared a bathroom and one towel with several other men. The landlady had drawn a line across the towel with the intent being that one end of the towel would used above waist. The other end was to be used below the waist.

Here I was, in a similar situation, except that this towel had no line drawn on it. Even if it did have a line I was struggling to recall how the men in 'Tis knew which end of towel was north and which end was south. Drip drying was another option.

This thought was not very pleasant though. There I would be with arms raised and turning slowly for full air flow. Then one of girls would knock on the door needing to pee.

If the bathroom had been equipped with a large electric hand dryer, like they had in some public restrooms, then that could have been an option. There was an electric hair dryer. I considered using that.

To my instant horror realized what could happen. I could be the victim of split ends on all of my body hair and itching, dry and flaking skin. That could cause some serious suffering for me.

Finally, as I recovered from the temporary trauma of the thoughts, a third idea came to me. I put on a shirt and pants and went down to the hotel desk. The nice lady there was happy to give me some fresh towels.