“Auntie, Uncca Bubba, and the Big Bad Wolf”

We had just unloaded the last truck load of furniture into our first home in smalltown when I heard a knock at the front door. It didn’t take me long to realize it wasn’t the Welcome Wagon representative coming to welcome us to smalltown. I immediately recognized the person when I saw sunlight reflecting off of the new gold tooth Doc the Dentist had put in Uncca Bubba’s mouth a while back. And I remember thinking so clearly, “Oh, God, how in the world did Auntie and Uncca Bubba find us so soon. We haven’t even began to unpack the boxes and here they are standing at our front door.”

I know there will be some people who will read this story and would argue they have relatives more notorious than mine. I don’t think so, but if you do, may God have mercy on you. Folks back in smalltown said, “My Auntie was trouble spelled with a capital T, and Uncca Bubba should of spelled his name B-a-d N-e-w-s” because Trouble and Bad News just seemed to follow them wherever they went. I know most of us have learned to handle trouble in whatever form it comes, but is anyone ever really ready for Bad News when it comes knocking?

As I relive this trying episode in my young life and how we finally dealt with Auntie and Uncca Bubba; a story as told by Cooch the Barber comes to mind. He would tell his version of the story of the ‘Three Little Pigs’ this way. All of the three little pigs knew a Big Bad Wolf lived in their neighborhood, but unlike his two unwise little brothers, the smart little pig understood a wolf is a wolf and no matter how he talks, or how he dresses, or what he drives, he will always be a wolf, and sooner or later his actions will prove it. The smart little pig built a brick home because he knew it would take more than wood or hay to keep the wolf out of his house should he ever decide to come calling. And sure enough just as the smart little pig expected, one day the wolf came knocking on his door with evil intentions in his mind, but the smart little pig was prepared. He had a pot of hot boiling water ready for just such an occasion. Cooch would conclude his story with this statement, “We all know how the story ends. The smart little pig cooked the Big Bad Wolf’s goose and rid their neighborhood of a menace.” Cooch would say the moral of the story is this. “If you want to eliminate a foreseeable future problem that could threaten your well being, the time to do something about that potential future problem is now. If you wait until the wolf is at your door threatening to huff and puff and blow your straw house down, you’re probably going to end up like the two unwise little pigs. Lunch for the Big Bad Wolf.” OTBP

“Zeke”

Shortly after my family moved from next door to Mr. and Mrs. Rolley to another small town in southern Illinois; I met a person who would be my best friend for many years. His name was “Zeke.” Zeke wasn’t his real name of course. He didn’t like his real name because his dad had the same name and Zeke and his dad got along like hot grease and water. One day out of the blue someone called him ‘Zeke’. He liked the name so much it stuck. Zeke and I hit it off right away and were like two peas in a pod. We liked the same things, chased the same women when we got older, and even fought with each other over the least little thing, but we never stayed angry with each other for very long and it wouldn’t be long before we would be best buddies again. We were wild and carefree kids by nature and didn’t care who knew it or liked it. It seemed like most of the young people liked us well enough because we were never without company for very long. I can’t say the same for the older generation because they never knew what we would do next. My parents generation called us “rebels” and “hell on wheels” an “accident waiting to happen”.

When things became mundane in our little town which was most of the time, Zeke would go to great pains to create some excitement. This often resulted in his dad receiving a late night phone call telling him, “Zeke did this”, or “Zeke did that”, “you need to come down here and get him before he gets into real trouble.” His dad would crawl out of bed and go get Zeke, take him home, whip his butt, and tell him not to do whatever it was that Zeke did that time. The older generation couldn’t see it, but the only problem Zeke had was he believed life was his castle, and he lived every waking moment of his life filling every room with laughter and joy. This sometimes irritated my parents generation because they had forgotten they had once did the same kinds of things. Now that they were older and past the fun stage of their life and had become critics of his antics instead of enjoying the pranks he would do.

Zeke may have been funny to our generation, a headache to my parents generation, but to me he was a great teacher in his own right. He may not have known he was teaching those of us who were observers of people and studied why people do the things they do. I learned from Zeke that you don’t have to settle for the better off forgotten mundane things life throws your way. With a little creativity on your part you can grab the bulls in life by the horns so to speak and change any situation into a meaningful experience that will be long remembered by your family and friends. OTBP