Sunday, April 26, 2009

Uncle Earl

I assume that most kids grow up with a neighborhood addict/pervert. If they don't, then they are missing some crucial element of childhood. I think they teach you to be wary and quick and of course give you great stories for your blog!

I lived next door to a family that had their wizened uncle stay with them. He continually insisted that we call him Uncle Earl and I honestly can't imagine not calling him that. All the neighborhood kids love to talk about the fact that he was always liquored up, but I believe he indulged in crack too. He liked nothing better than to sit with his special pipe on the porch watching the kids play under the streetlights while he was hidden in darkness.

I have two memories that stand out in my mind when I think of Uncle Earl; public urination and illicit solicitation.

He really enjoyed pissing all over the shed in my neighbor's back yard, but he sometimes would mix it up and paint our white fences yellow. I don't think this was a perverted act necessarily, just some minor disorientation caused by beloved time spent with the rock. He had a very rotund, blonde, and young wife and she usually would come out and herd him back inside.

I'm sure you're very anxious to know about the illicit solicitation, the meat of this post, right? Well, one day my sister and I were playing in the woods behind our house. These woods separated our street from Tiffany Lane. There was a giant ravine used for old appliances, tires, dog shit, and Uncle Earl's liquor bottles. (Kind of like the prequel to my Compost Woods only less earth friendly!) Uncle Earl came staggering into the woods and asked us if we would dance for him for $5 to spend at the Lil Champ. At 13 and 11, we didn't really have much pocket money and I had to think a spell on his offer. $5 would buy so much at the Lil Champ! We could get peanuts to feed the snapping turtles, soda that we were never allowed to have, and enough candy to share with the whole Bicycle Gang. After giggling nervously, we ran away. We could always look for scratched off lottery tickets on the side of the road and maybe find a winner. Danger averted.


Anonymous said...

Glad I found you! I love your wit.

Jessica said...

Thanks so much, SonyaAnn. I just read your "frugal and fat ass" post, very funny!