For several years the family slipped into a pleasant pattern. Some weeks our family would be staying a few miles inland from the Pacific ocean ...Fishing , hunting exploring the woods and hills . Back home I was enjoying the popularity of my neighborhood gang . This was a " gang " in the " Spanky" sense of gang . Most of the time we spent playing amongst ourselves . building forts in the woods , and in our backyards ..but every once in awhile we turned our attention to the encroachment of other neighborhood gangs on our terriritory..One of these times became the stuff of legend ..we referred to it in hushed tones as the " great raid .
. By any stretch of the imagination the raid had been a total
success , we had destroyed the oppositions fort , turned over at least one
lemonade stand and left the 35th street gang in a total state of disarray. This
had come at little cost to us, Rex had ripped his pants , one of our bikes had a
flat tire , my brother was lost , and worst of all I had lemonade stains on my
mothers new Girdle. There was a chance I might get in trouble over that Girdle
in the first place and the lemonade stains almost guaranteed it . The cost of
our victory might be higher than I had planned to pay.It like so much and so
many other its in my life began with a choice. In this case the choice was
whether to borrow the Girdle or not to borrow the girdle. And this choice was a
in fact a confluence of Choices going back well into the pastfew months before
the raid..There was one area in our house that was supposed to be inviolate , a
place of refuge and safety for my parents and this area was their bedroom. IT
was an unwritten law that entering the bedroom without permision was a
crime.Oddly it was this secrecy that pulled me into the downward spiral of guilt
, remorse . On one hand the possibilty of being caught in this sanctuary was
almost enough to keep me from gently pushing open the door . On the other hand
there was much to discover in their room. It all started innocently at first , I
needed gunpowder ...and my father stored his ammunition in the bedroom, I wasn't
supposed to know that , but in a two bedroom house there aren't too many
secrets. I needed the gunpowder for my science experiments , in this case I was
experimenting with gunpowder. I had found that a little bit of Gunpowder could
add a little extra kick to my homemade bombs. Latter I would find that gunpowder
would also provide an extra kick to rocket fuel , but I am several years ahead
of myself here. My father kept the ammunition in his dresser drawer which was
right next to my mothers underwear drawer. Of course the first time I was
pillaging the dresser I did not know about the underwear drawer nor did I have a
really good foundational understanding of women's underwear, and that included
my mother's..The first time I discovered the drawer , I was somewhat confused as
to what I had found , there was something deep down inside of me , something
unexplainable that this was not my fathers underwear ..and with only the two of
them sharing this room I was made the connection that this must be my mothers
...there was some confusion after all these items were not made from sturdy
cotton , they were silky and soft and ...well daintier ...and then I saw the
girdle , I had no understanding of this device , at first I thought it was swim
wear , but a careful look and I knew it was at best only half a swim wear . It
was sturdy, it was white , it was quite long it looked to me like it would fit
me and the pants leg part would almost extend to my knees. Somewhat confused I
gently placed the girdle back into the drawer and plucked out a couple of
shotgun shells from my fathers drawer .I preferred using the shotgun shells to
the 30 06 shells he also had in his drawer . I learned form experience that it
was easier to remove the gunpowder from the shotgun shells than from the metal
jacketed rifle rounds ...you really know who your friends are when you ask them
to hold a steel jacketed bullet in a pair of pliers as you try to use a hacksaw
to open it up ....at one time I thought that if I heated the lead bullet part up
with a stove top I could pry it loose easier , but it didn't work out the way I
planned.I has kept the discovery of the girdle safely tucked into my brain ..and
then when we started planning the great raid and I was looking for the perfect
costume I retrieved the information form my mind and decided that the girdle was
just what I was looking for ...taking my dads socks was more of an impulse and I
had already used the idea of the towel for a cape . The swim cap and feather was
Rex's Idea ...he thought it would look silly on him so he suggested I wear it ,
and thought he was foolish for not seeing the possibility.My plan was to wait
for the right moment and slip into my parents bedroom , grab the girdle then run
like all get out. I would change into my warrior uniform in the tree fort
...slid on a pair of jeans and slip away on my bike...for the most part the plan
went well ...I was able to grab the girdle when my mother has walked to the
store , changing was no problem , I ran into a little problem when I discovered
my Bike was not going to make the trip , but when my brother rounded the corner
with that " where are you going " look in his eye I decided to invite him into
the gang ...At first Bob was somewhat skeptical , trust was always an issue with
him , but I assured him he wasn't;t part of a science experiment. That he would
be an important part of the foray , and the rope was definitely needed ...at one
point he protested that since I was bigger I should pull the wagon , but I
reminded him that I knew he had broken moms baking dish and I knew where he had
buried it ...and he stopped protesting and let me lash him to the Wagon....A few
blocks away we stopped so I could complete my costume and as I was putting the
feather in the hat I heard some of the neighbor girls laughing ...I told them
they shouldn't tease my brother like that then I gave a hearty giddy up and off
we went ...cape flying in the wind and a blur of white girdle as we headed down
33rd street. we were a group of hard driven neighborhood kids ..Led by Rex and
myself we were also accompanied by Mike squirrly Hukins, Norm stinky Simpkins,
Andy one hand ( after an unfortunate accident with a pair of pliers and steel
jacketed bullet , and Linda beefcake O'mally who for a short period in the 80's
was the lead blocker for the San Francisco Bombers roller derby team. each of us
had dressed in their best fighting clothes. rex was wearing his coonskin cap and
genuine Hop Along Cassidy leather vest and chaps, Norm who was part Nez Peirce
indian was wearing war paint ( actually lipstick and eyeliner ) , Andy still had
his hand in a cast which he had dipped in black paint , and Linda was dressed
like Peter Pan with a Baseball bat . Of note was Norms Bike which had half of a
Antler set strapped to the handlebars . As we caravanned down Capital Highway we
could easily see the looks of admiration and envy from the passing cars , and
even a few noses pressed against the glass seemed to be weeping and convulsing
as viewers seemed to instinctively understand the grand undertaking we were
undertaking ...while I felt a little odd standing in a red wagon being pulled by
my brother with a rope around his waist in mothers girdle I knew that most
driving by would quickly see it was no girdle at all but the gilded armor of a
dashing Greek warrior ...Anyone who had read the Iliad would instantly recognize
the similarity. Later I learned that Zane Grey's book the Broken Spur was the
most popular read in the Northwest.We traveled down Capital highway for two
blocks then turned right on 35th street , enemy territory ...we had only peddled
a few feet when we saw them gathered around the Karnes Kid's Lemonade stand
...they were surprised and terrified when they heard our shouts and screams Four
of us were shouting my brother was screaming. Although to be fair our war shouts
could have used some improvement. I had Asthma and when excited I wheezed better
than I shouted , Rex had a lisp , Norm Stuttered and Linda hadn't decided on a
good war cry so she just shouted Hey Ricky !!! ( she loved the I love Lucy Show
). My Brother was screaming because He couldn't swerve fast enough to avoid the
lemonade stand. There are some images that don not fade away , they are etched ,
nay sculpted in to the matrix of the mysterious place where Memories are reside.
Here the five of us dressed in our warrior garb , led by half naked chubby boy
with lipstick and mascara smeared across his cheek , on a bike with half a deer
head wired to the Handle bar , followed by a Greek warrior in his mothers girdle
being pulled on a red wagon with his wide eyed brother lashed to it , several
other s in distinguished gear following close behind , startled the 35th street
gang scattered like watermelon Seeds at a Ghallager concert ....unprepared for
this reaction my brother caught up in the moment and showing al the signs of a
first time rookie , rushed forward and in the confusion I was thrown head first
into the lemonade stand ...thank God for the Swimming cap ...I was soaked all
over with fresh squeezed Lemonade ...I think it was the combination of the warm
day and the sticky lemon drink but I could actually feel the girdle shrinking up
and soon my " armor " undergarments were tight enough to kill my pet hamster and
I was still in them ....the walk home was not as fun as I thought it might have
been , I was walking because my brother had taken off ..and we were not sure
where he went ...I was concerned about this because Bob still had the rope and
it was my Dad's ...As I began the long walk home I was feeling a little
discomfort , not only was the armor shrinking the wet lemonade was staring to
chaff , by the time I got home I was walking bowlegged and with a definite hop
...
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