JUST SOME POSTS

"How old is that thing?" - If I had a dime for every time I heard that one! I thought I would do some more remembering. This is about another relative I got to know as a kid - Uncle Rufus. Uncle Rufus was a strange man, even by the standards of my other slightly strange relatives. He hated almost everything and everyone. He was the only man I know that would join a protest march and then join the counter-protest half way through. Luckily, Rufus did not have to deal with people a whole lot. Even in his job - see Rufus was a chinchilla farmer. He raised a herd, skinned them, and sold the pelts once a year at a furrier's market. In case you don't know, chinchillas are basically a cross between a squirrel and a hamster. From the face end they look quite a bit like a very large hamster. From the tail end they look like a squirrel with a bit less fluff in the tail. They are, however, blessed (or cursed, from their standpoint) with a fur that is about a soft as fur can ...

I did not realize how long it had been since the last post - apologies. I forgot one got "eaten" by the internet one night in a hotel. I thought some more memories might be in order - "Give ya a quarter for a peek at those." Man if I had a dime for every time I heard that one. Another memorable summer was the one I spent with my Uncle Pierce. He was a strange little man that was quite disagreeable. Of course some of that angst may have been from his job. Pierce was a chicken sexer . (yes, even in the age of computers, that is a real job - look it up) Pierce spent his eight working hours looking at chicken butts. Through some magic of prodding and observance he could tell if the chick was Al or Alice. This "talent" was of no use in the real world and made Uncle Pierce a bit mean and cranky most of the time. (he also had a bad habit of taking babies and looking in their diapers - hey, thinking back on that - he was weird !) Not much happened that summer...

"WOW, are those real?" if I had a dime for every time I heard that one. I remember one summer I worked for my cousin Vlad. He ran a small business (wait for it..) making equipment for flea circuses. (there it is!) We made infinitesimally small bicycles, monkey bars, merry-go-rounds, wagons, and my favorite - wheels of death; among other things. It wasn't a great business, but Vlad loved it. It was ironic that Vlad should be involved with such small things as he was afflicted with Marfan Syndrome and Acromegaly. He was about 8ft tall with an arm span of over 8ft. It was funny seeing him working on a bicycle that was smaller than the nail on his little finger! Vlad had a strange hobby; he raised fainting goats. If you have never seen one of these, go to You Tube and search for them. They are great. When startled, they tense up, get all stiff legged and fall over. It is hilarious! Vlad was a hoot when he would rise to his full height and charge the goats with his tremendou...

"Whoa! What is that smell!!" If I had a dime for everytime I heard that one... I will always remember the two summers I spent working for my "Uncle" Boris. He and his wife Agnes had a little company that made costumes and props for performing animals. You know, the little jackets for the dancing bears, the headdresses for the horses and elephants, etc. My job was as a go-fer, and I had the dubious honor of measuring the animals for size. You haven't lived until you try to get an inseam measurement from a chimp. I especially remember one week when Boris was trying to develop a special unicycle for a bear. The circus people wanted it to look like a regular unicycle, but you can imagine the difficulty here - hey, it had to support a bear! I was measuring a Zebra for a coat, and I heard a terrible crash. I ran over to the shed where Boris was working and saw him on the ground. He was screaming and wailing like he had been shot. I found out later that was the day ...

"Does your monkey bite?" I heard that thousands of times over the years. My Uncle Lou owned a farm where he "saved" old circus animals. I used to go and work there summers. He couldn't pay me (or anyone else most of the time) but he did offer me a pet one year. "Pick what you want" he bellowed. Lou was a little hard of hearing, so he yelled most of the time. Now I, being a sensible type, picked a monkey. He was retired from a life with an organ grinder. Really, he used to wear the little hat and coat and beg while his owner played. His name was Mickey, but I called him Steve. Steve was awesome. He was about as smart as most of my friends. Hey, he flung some poo occasionally, but we all have to let off steam. He learned to interact with most of our family activities. I remember him cleaning up on weekend mornings. We usually let him vacuum and sweep. I had sawed the handle off of a broom to make it easier, and he loved the Hoover. He would try to vacu...

"How about three of dem links?" That question popped up at every meal. My formative years were spent on the road. We followed the pageant trail. Up north in the winter months - Ice Queen, Snow Princess, Jill Frost, etc. The late summer and early fall ones were my favorites though; Corn Queen, Harvest Queen, even Kumquat Cutie. We didn't have much luck in the pageants until my Uncle Francis adopted the diminutive Lithuanian girl - Ausra (means "dawn" in Lithuanian). Ausra was a beauty, alabaster skin, deep blue eyes, golden hair. If it hadn't been for the growth on her right ankle, she could have been a serious contender for Ms. America or a "real" pageant. She carried herself regally even though she had to allow about six extra inches on her right for what we all just called the "lump". Did you ever wonder what life would be like if you never wondered what life would be like? I had another uncle that was an owner of a salt mine. Y...