Random thoughts on a Sunday afternoon...
Cub Scout Halloween party was last night. Four hours of prep. Two solid hours of Igor the hunchback leading young men from 6 to 10 through the Hallway of Terror translates into one sore back and a mighty sore throat.
And a whole mess of Scouts who will talk about Eye-gor the rest of the year...
That's a trade-off I can live with. It's a small sacrifice, one's dignity, in the grand scheme of things. Rather than being viewed as the stern authoritarian figure, the boys see me as the adult willing to make myself look foolish for the success of the Halloween party. I crack jokes, make obscure '80s pop culture references to keep the parents engaged, and generally make a complete and utter buffoon out of myself for the evening (no comments from the peanut gallery inquiring as to how that's different from any other day, thanyouverymuch...).
The hard part, though, is transitioning from Igor the goofball back into Cubmaster Jay the hardass for next weekend for our Scout Overnight. We have several dozen Scouts and their parents who will be looking very critically at how we comport ourselves - and handle any issues - on the second overnight of our Pack's history. I wrote about last year's fiasco and the fallout from it, and we have ZERO desire to repeat the mistakes of history. This time next week will tell whether we can negotiate that particular minefield, or if we will have to put the kibosh on future outings.
I'm hoping the grown-ups can act like, well, grown-ups this year.
Right now I'm home with BabyGirl G, just a lazy Daddy-daughter afternoon. She's been chained to her room all morning in a vain attempt to find her rug. She obviously inherited her father's sense of room-cleaning ability (none). Finally managed to starve her into submission (no lunch until we can at least see the floor in your room, young lady!), and now she's downstairs having her favorite lunch (hot dogs and macaroni and cheese; were it up to her, that's all she would ever eat).
Mrs. G. and The Boy are visiting the local farm stand, which has set up a corn maze in one of their fallow fields. We saw the maze when we went apple picking earlier this month, and The Boy expressed interest in going through the maze. At the time we declined, as BabyGirl G was in a foul mood (she's starting young) and having two fighting children in an enclosed space just spelled out "bad idea". So while I sit and listen to BGG chow down, Mrs. G is escorting The Boy through the maze. It's a good day. Alas, it will only last a few more minutes, until we re-group and fight the mob at the grocery store...
Most men look forward to fall as the start of the football season. The falling leaves, the brisk winds; to most of the male species it signifies a return to the gridiron, either reliving the glory days of high school, living vicariously through one's progeny, or simply sharing the cameraderie of watching the big game on a jumbo-sized television at the local sports bar.
But not this male.
To me, fall signifies the return of sweaters, fleece pullovers, and sweatshirts which herald the return of the winter carry gun. The colder weather allows a wider range of options in the personal protection arena - since outer garments are now necessary, the CCW choices are no longer limited to "that which fits in my pocket"... It's really about the only thing I have to look foward to this time of year, as all I can think about is skyrocketing home heating costs and the impending onset of snow and... the dreaded winter drivers.
At least they provide blog fodder, right?
That is all.
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5 comments:
Re: the Cub Scout halloween bit - this is the sort of thing that Boy G will look back on years from now. That's not only not nothing, it's a lot.
And it's a triple negative, which has got to be first for a Stuck In Masschusetts comment ...
Your love for the changing of seasons is the same as mine. Time to dust off the commander 1911 & see if the old Miami Classic rig needs any adjustment.I love the smell of a wood fire in the evening.
Onset of cold/winter means......DEER SEASON. And Eldest has her first tags this year.... I have been looking forward to this for a decade at least!
"transitioning from Igor the goofball back into Cubmaster Jay the hardass"
I expect Igor will find opportunities to make an appearance throughout the year. A little humor can be very useful.
I had the honor of playing Igor in the Mad Scientist presentation, for hundreds of less privileged elementary school kids from the area around my college, for several years as an undergrad. I note that the small cadre of Igors across the nation have contributed more to the emancipation of childrens' imaginations than most other experiences they have during their school years. Long live the hump!
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