As you last read (in part 1) my plan to instill fear into my older brother (Blues Brutha) went slightly awry.  My punishment? I was grounded for the rest of the day.  My think was - "stay inside the house"? where my evil plans were most effective, and where my misdeed took place?  This gave me time to prepare more devious notes to slip under big brother's door in advance.  I think I had one of almost every day of the week for a month written down before I got bored.

 

And now - I focus on my younger brother, who was the sibling from hades.  This kid (The Village Idiot) was more devious (but not smarter) than I was - just in a different way. He got away with murder.  Not literally.., but then.., who really knows.  One small example of his treachery;  TVI (The Village Idiot) wanted something of mine, a model car, to play with.  I informed him that it was breakable and not a toy.., so.., it would be a cold day in hell before I let him play with said model car.  This little monster (at age 10) grinned, socked himself in the eye, ran to mother and whined tearfully "He hit me in the eye!  He hit me in the eye!" and proceeded to scream in mock pain.  My 13 year old arse got warmed up when Dad got home.

 

Now, I was fully aware from Sunday School, that "Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord" - but I decided a little help was in order. Why should the Lord be worried with the matter if I take care of it for him?  No harm, no foul.  A plan was hatched, developed and redefined to perfection.  All I needed was the proper time. And yes, I allowed for the potential Mom Factor which got me in trouble before.

 

The moment of opportunity arrived!  I got off the school bus and as usual, The Village Idiot, dragged his heels slowly toward the house.  Imagine my delighted to I seen the car was gone! which translated into, 'Mom and Dad were gone to the store!' !!!! YES!   TVI's butt was mine! Muahahahahaha!

 

After purposefully leaving the door under the carport leading to the kitchen open, I took up my station by the window what looked out into the open carport, peering through the sheer curtain, waiting for little brother to approach.  AH! There he was - just walking under the carport - then I initiated my deviousness.  Puberty is great in that it deepens your voice a bit and allows you to do other voices - this being a key component to my master plan.  Big brother was grown by this time, married and outta there - so no interference there.  In fact, Blues Brutha would have helped with this one I think.

 

TVI's PERSPECTIVE:  As he stands under carport.., hears voices..., that of his brother, and one of a total stranger, a sinister strange man

DAVE: " I swear mister - I don't know! Please dint hurt me! Put away that knife!!!"

MAN:  (deeper voice) "Shut up kid! Shut up and answer me now or I'll cut off your dingle berries.  Is there anyone else in the house? Maybe a kid brother coming in from school?"

DAVE: "N.., n.., n..., n.., No sir! I am an only child and dint have a little brother - PLEASE DON'T HURT HIM!"

(all this time I am watching little brother through the sheer fabric - he cant see me because its dark inside - he's sold that some crazy man is in the house assaulting me)

MAN:  "Are you sure? I like to EAT little brothers.  They taste like ham.., and I REALLY love ham" 

 

About this time, TVI, runs across the street to the neighbor's house. THIS WAS NOT allowed for in my plan.  The Neighbor Factor!  Plan B was thought out out quickly as neighbor lady. Mrs. R, came walking innocent little TVI home to see what was going on.  She knocks on the door and I answer.

 

ME:        "Hi Mrs R."

MRS. R:  "Hello David. Is everything alright over here?"

ME:        (maintaining cool demeanor) "Yes ma'am.  Why do you ask?"

MRS. R:  "Your little brother seems to think someone is in your house killing everyone. He heard voices?"

ME:         "Oh!", I laughed.., "That must have been the TV. There was a movie on."

[at this time - we did not have a Tv because it was broken]

MRS. R:  "So everything is fine?  Can I come in and look around just to make sure?"

ME:  (thinking, yeah sure, just dint turn on the Television)  "Yes ma'am.  You are welcome here anytime and I am sure mother and father will appreciate your checking on our wellbeing". (my Eddie Haskel routine was to die for)

 

Mrs. R, comes in and looks around real quick while TVI is glaring at me suspiciously, putting two and two together in his beady little brain.  I'm carrying a defiant smirk which conveniently vanishes each time Mrs. R, looks back my direction.

"Okay - everything looks in order, I'll be going..," she said, then looked at TVI.., you really have a vivid imagination, son.  Everything is fine." - and with that, she took her leave.

 

At that moment, TVI points his finger at me with eyes wide..., on reflection very much reminded me of Isaac, on Children of the Corn about to call up 'he who walks behind the rows'...., "You tricked me! You wait till Mom and Dad get back..., you are sooo dead!"

 

Long story short - After our parents return.., The Village Idiot, tried to convince Mom and Dad that I had been a bad boy - but when they questioned Mrs. R about events, the folks were content that, TVI was just over imaginative.  Muahahahaa! Muahahahaa!  take that Isaac!  But this is not the final chapter.., nay.., the best perhaps.., but not the last.   Unless I forget - I intend to post PART 3 of the Memoir Files: The Phantom Menace in October, when it tis more appropriate.

 

 

 

 

When older brother,  Blues Brutha , and I were kids, as well as my younger brother, The Village Idiot (TVI) ..., I was the middle finger - I mean - middle child.  As such I usually ended up with the short end of the stick, so I had to find some means of balancing things out.  I found two elements that worked rather well;  The pencil and scaring the fudge soup out of my siblings!  This left me with a feeling of satisfaction - at least until the tables were turned.

 

Now, big brother never quite what you would call "pound me into mince meat".., but more like playful, punches and noogies to the head bone.  If he had of decided to pound me into mince meat, he coulda but he didn't.  However, I'm sure that doesn't mean he didn't at least think about it a time or twelve.

 

We would slip rather insulting notes and taunts under each others bedroom doors.  In my case, it was slip it under the door and run to my room to lock myself in.  I only remember two or three of those insults and taunts - one of which was something like "You eat dog crap AND LIKE IT!".   Now why would I feel the need to run after slipping a note like that under big brother's door?  I have no clue.

 

One incident I had planned on scaring big bro.  So I made my plan, slipped an insulting note under his door that ended with "You cant find me because you are too stupid".  My plan worked great - up until it blew up in my face.  I know what you're thinking at this point - but you are getting way ahead of me and cheating yourself.   I ran to my room, climbed up onto the shelf in my closet and covered myself with a sheet - thinking I was well hidden.

 

 I lay quiet, waiting for big bro to come in looking for me.  I was sure he would look in the closet, just not expect me to be hiding on the shelf.  The door opened! I waited for the moment I would fling off the sheet and yell 'BOOO!'.  Such things had to be well timed you must understand.  But - it just didn't work that way.  The sheet was pulled off me, as I yelled "BOOOO!"   My mother screamed - stepped back - saw it was me and my butt was toast.  Big bro had a major laugh about that one and reminded me of it for a whole month.

 

Apparently my mother figured I was outside and wasn't going to change my bed sheets so she would do it.  It was a matter of baaaaad timing on my part.  It didn't even occur to me about the Mom Factor.  That was the only time she ever got caught in the middle - and I made darn sure to consider the Mom Factor after my foo-poo.

 

I tend to think of our growing up years as the Brady Bunch Boys gone horribly wrong. REALLY baaaad and really wrong.  Stay tuned for "The Phantom Menace - Part Two" of the Memoir Files.., whereby I terrorized..., [insert dramatic musical overture here].., younger brother.., The Village Idiot!   Oh come off the high horses - he was there and somebody had to do it.  Better me than a stranger, right?. Right?  RIIIGHHHT?

CANNED SPAM BELIEVERS! and UnBelievers..., here is a Spam Recipe that was given to me by a bonefide Chef.  And I have to tell you - its major good eatin'! and simple!

 

INGREDIENTS
1 (12 ounce) container fully cooked luncheon meat (e.g. Spam), chopped

2 eggs, beaten
20 soda crackers, crushed
2 cups milk
1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese, divided

DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
In a 9x13 inch baking dish combine the meat, eggs, cracker crumbs, milk and 3/4 cup of the cheese. Mix well. Sprinkle remaining 1/4 cup cheese on top.
Bake uncovered in the preheated oven for 1 hour. Let cool and serve.

 

Okay - its that time of year again when all the LOSERS vie for Champion of the Air Guitar title. Now, I don't know of too many people who have not imbibed of the Air Gutarism, just horsing around - but jeesh. A major competition of it?   I watched a few videos of these international competitions - and I am unimpressed.  It seems most of them forget they are supposed to be playing an air guitar and just dance, swing, jump, crump and lump all over the stage - with occasional reminders that maybe they do have an imaginary air guitar in hand.

 

Sorry - but I wont waste good money attending a convention of losers.  It takes one to know one? Yeah - whatever. I'm just saying the whole thing looks idiotic.  Then thats just me and my opinion.  I am pretty sure I do not possess any great power to persuade people my way of thinking - and I really don't want that responsibility.  If you like these things, mo powuh to ya - but that doesn't change my opinion, one bit.

 

And by the way - if it weren't for my back and my gimpy knee - I WOULD SOOOO RULE THAT STAGE! YEAH BAY-BAY! I am confidant I could show them clowns how REAL "air guitar" is played.  But I guess I could assume role of trainer - Dave Miagi, sinsay of the Air Guitar Arts.  I would just have to find "The One" next great Air Guitar Master, and train him or her to perfection.  We could split the $2 grand prize and retire for the rest of my life. My Air-Guitarist Stage Name?  "THE DAVEMASTER" - I so blipping Wock!  **picks up trusty old air guitar from a case what hasn't been opened since the 70s, blows off the dust and strums a chord**