Trying to impress his sons, but, it’s, backfired, didn’t it??? Translated…
I got as tall as sitting on the gas tanks of my father’s Wolf 125.
Maybe, it was because of how well-behaved I was, or that my dad worked at the electricity company, all the workers when they’re out, working their rounds, loved taking me with them. There was that peaceful sight, of the older men copying down the readings on the markers, or climbing up on the light poles to get the pars replaced; there were also, the more arousing parts, the older men would get engaged in heated debates with the elderly who’d worked in their fields, with their sleeves rolled up, on whether or not he’d been, stealing the electricity, or giving an unknown man who got into a car crash who was covered in blood, a lift to the hospitals, “Oh, and don’t tell this to your dad!”, on our way back, the older guy would tell me.
The memories of traveling when I got a bit older, was at the last day of school, after school was out, I’d, followed a girl I liked to her home. After a little over ten thousand steps, passing the stamina of a second grade boy’s body can handle, as she’d finally found, that I was, there, for her, to discover me, “This, don’t tell the teachers!” she’d, turned her head back toward me, said, “I, kinda, like you too!”
Then, she’d taught me a lesson that wasn’t taught in school: if you needed to find the key point of someone’s words, it always happens after the “but”. “But I’ll be moving away next semester.” Her lips didn’t move, but, she’d become, like a ventriloquist that was in a circus, about to, follow wherever her parents may take her.
That was an era where there was miracle in the economy, but not yet the cookies with the fillings in Taiwan. The single-flavored butter cookies were, an elite of my childhood. And although, on the boxes it said, “You will NEVER get tired of this”, but, as I was still a child, I’d, had absolutely ZERO tolerance for things that didn’t change. So, someone, actually, that was, me, I’d, found a brand new way to eat the cookies: making my own center (deleting 5000 characters of what I had done). Simply stated, I’d put the two cookies into my mouth, and chewed it very thoroughly, then, while it was still moist, I’d, spread it across another piece of cookie, then, placed another piece of cookie on top of it. And, we can, adjust how hard or soft the centers, by putting them into the freezer sections (yup, that was the KEY!!!), then, we’d, gone out to play.
“Play for bit, and, suddenly recalling, that you have, that stashed away piece of cookie, that you’d made especially,”, and, shared that childhood philosophy of how I’d, gotten, so creative, in the era where I was, lacking in resources, and, “I got to, take it back out, and, enjoy that hardened, and cooled, creativity of mine”, I’d felt, that I may be, gloating a bit, because I’d used, the puns.
“It’s okay, we’re a family”, my second child looked a bit serious. “But,”, holy, I’d, opened up my ears wide, and heard the point that came after, “Don’t, EVER tell this, to anybody else, again.”
And this still just showed, the generation differences, because what the father thought was quite impressive, may be interpreted as embarrassing by his young, because as the generations get smarter than the ones before, you’ll find, that your own young has more knowledge than you had when you were their age, and that is just how it goes, and through the process of coming of age, we all, lose what last bit of innocence we still had with us.
Life, the Obstacle Course 