page 18, August 17, 1977 - North Shore News

There is one thing cums with- gettin’ old that’s .
purty good. There may be others, but damned it I
can think of ’em. Jest the same, wen every year

it cud be a

gives you one more to look back on, |

helluva lot worse.

Now there is sum people

start lookin’ ahead, wich is. |

_Shur askin’ fer trubble, as fur

as I can see. F'’rinstance,
there’ Ss the possibility of
runnin’ into the  wife’s
relativs in the Herafter. The
wife keeps tellin” me it’s a
mighty slim hope, wot with
my cussin’ an’ bein’ so
ornery, but jest the same it’s
the sorta sneaky thing you
cud call pure Hell.

_ Lain’t too worried, though,

becus I cut my teeth on a pick
an shovel in the Hungry
Thirties, whilst them ding-
bats is mainly gud fer a knife
an fork - wich they demon-
strate every time they cum
over to the house. After they
get through, the pantry luks
like it wus attacked. by
extra-terrestrial termites
frum outer space!

The way I sees it, the
shovel takes priority - so I
shud be Straw Boss on Boiler
Number One. After we gets

-the clinkers raked off the
grates an them dingalings
figger wich end of the shovel
you hang onto, the pop valve
shud be workin’ overtime
and things shud be real hot
in Hades!

On t’uther hand, lookin’
backwards is a rele treat
like, f'rinstance, bein’ the
only kid in the neighborhood
wot buttoned his fly between
his hip: pockets!

-It-cum about this way:
My Granddad had a belly

that wus a glory to behold. It
wus wot folks wud call

Falstaffian - a monumental °

tribute to dang near ninety

- By Bill Clark

years of venison chops; fried
trout; bacon an eggs - an a
veritable Alp of spuds, fried
crisp and brown in bacon fat.

The food faddists
weep bitter tears over their
yogurt an Granola an that
sorta grub - wich is wot I did
wen the ole feller died at 86.

will

This raises interestin’ ques-_

tions about the relative
merits of a bowl of birdseed
as opposed to fried spuds.

On t’uther hand, wen the
folks tried, to cut down

Granddad’s trousers fer to fit

me, things got rele ranga-
tang. Ev "Ty time  theni
trousers wus cut an sewed to

fit a skinny ten-year-old kid,

the hip pockits kept comin’

closer together.

Finally, the hip -pockits
wus abandoned - becus. by
them the side pockits had
sorta worked their way
around to my backside,
where they wus doin’ a sorta

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dual-purpose job.
The folks-said this wus rele

gud, becus it wud keep me
frum slouchin’ along with my

‘hands in my pockits. Be-

sides, in the Thirties there

- wusn’t much need fer pockits

- speshul fer kids. Mostly you
needed pockits fer marbles: a
few dubbies; a cupple agates

+ an (if. you wus a rele pro)
mebbe a ‘‘Steelie’’, wich wus.

a big ball bearing that wud
crack an agate slick as a

‘whistle wen you hit it fair an

square!

All this time, wile the
cuttin’ and slashin’ wus goin’
on, sumthin’ real mysterious
wus happening!

The fly on them. pants
worked its way. past my
crotch an startid comin’ up
on t’uther side. After Test
Flight Number Ten er so, the
fambly an me both agreed we
had sumthin’ better’n Stan-
field’s Best. We had combin-
ed the best features ° of
trap-door long johns with the
simpler requirements of the

first three er four buttons.

Well, sir, she cum the Big

‘Day - an I took off fer school.

where ain’t been nuthin’ like

t since the Cutty Sark hoistid
balloon spinnakers an’ " Foyal
t ’gallants.

Wot I mean is, you cud
have stuffed three of me into

‘them trouser legs an you wud

have had plenty left over.
She wus about ten: below,
with a gud breeze an the

draft on. my tail bone frum

the fly wich rund up- my
backside wus a dandy!

_The old tomcat slept thru
many a winter in a box lined
with them trousers.... an
(like I said at the beginning)
it’s sorta nice to look back,
onct in a while.

Y’see, when times is real
tough you finds you gotta use
wot you have - like old
trousers an a good laugh.

Thad them both.

stanley laursen
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NORTH VANCOUVER