Saturday, June 22, 2013

My 1st childhood friend

From January 23, 2013

Donnie was my very 1st childhood friend. I recall I was about 6 years old when he knocked on our door asking my mother if her little boy could come out to play.

My mother, God rest her soul, was an extremely kind and loving woman who actu
ally wanted 15 children. I was the oldest, “the experiment’ that convinced her that by the time Donnie came calling the 4 of us she already had would be plenty. 

She eventually settled on 6.

I was very independent, adventurous and wanted to escape to that unknown kingdom I could see from my living room window, namely across the street where Donnie and other humans dwell. The macadam is always blacker on the other side of the street and I could not wait to arrive and see what was in store for me.

My mother reluctantly allowed me limited freedom and fortunately since there were 3 others home-bound under the age of 6 the reprieve would do us both good. She was still somewhat pensive; I on the other hand was finally out of the nest and ready to soar.

Donnie was only 1 year older but very savvy, and street smart and a great teacher. I learned basic aeronautics’ by jumping off porches while extending my arms and attempting flight just like an airplane. He only charged me a nickle for those lessons.  

What a deal!

He taught me how to read even before I entered elementary school by explaining the meaning of 4-letter graffiti words spray painted on the mailboxes.

He had extensive knowledge of human anatomy and showed me pictures from gentleman’s magazines hidden under his older brothers bed. He knew the names of all the parts.

Boy was I going to be ready to enter Catholic school at St. Attica's next year. Mom would be so proud.

Donnie was also minister, funeral director, veterinarian and archeologist.

  • His veterinarian skills enabled him to know when the baby bird or goldfish was dead. 
  • As a funeral director he was able to find the creature a proper casket, usually an old shoebox. 
  • There was no cremation or flushing as all of God’s creatures deserved a proper burial with graveside services led by minister Donnie.
  •  As the neighborhood archeologist we were able to return to his yard, daily, and excavate the burial site to see what happens to the dearly departed.

To this day I find archaeology fascinating. 

No I personally do not care to venture into some foreign land, desert or jungle and spend months fighting the elements and nature to uncover the hind quarters of a prehistoric bony-eared saber-toothed bumble cricket, or the crock pot of an Aztec wet nurse but I sure do enjoy watching others sweat it out from the comfort of my la-z-boy.

A few weeks ago I received an email about an excavation on Easter Island showing the infamous heads on the island actually had bodies.

Who knew?

I never realized there were so many of these heads scattered throughout this tiny island, or how large and impressive they are.

If you have an interest, put on your pith helmet, prop up your feet, pop open a Yuengling and join my armchair expedition.

It’s free, no muss no fuss and no fundraising needed.

Here is the Easter Island Statue Project. Island Projects

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