For a number of years, now -- I don't know how many -- I, like I'm pretty certain is the case with other Grandpas, have an alter-Ego with his own voice and, in this case, his own totem. I call him Melmo ... Not Melmo the Magnificent ... no ... just Melmo. Melmo has a squeaky voice and seems to stay just 60 years younger than I. Some day soon, indeed, he'll be old enough to ride a bicycle without training wheels.
Melmo can be annoying. Like the time Grandpa and Oldest Grandspawn went out to pick up Pizza and Melmo showed up unannounced and according to Grandspawn 'unwelcomed.' Complicating matters was the lateness of the Pizza, leaving Maybe 11 year old S to deal with the embarrassment of being in a store with a balding, social security aged 5'ish year old muppet with a squeaky voice for a half an hour, or so.
Yesterday, though, it was the youngest who laid things straight, though leaving Grandpa thoroughly befuddled ... a state of mind he has accepted as not so alien to the Last Quarter. A little background is in order. Some years ago, Grandpa saved the bottom seven feet of a Black Cherry tree from the chain saw and with that same saw carved a likeness of Melmo. By the time Big Time Cute was old enough to visit the Melmo Totem, a common Ivy had grown to festoon his head with more hair than Grandpa will ever, again, present. Melmo with a Fro! Whoa!
In any case, yesterday, Big Time clarified all.
"Grandpa .... Melmo is not Real.
Melmo just lives inside a Tree Trunk."
I can tell that Youngest's Husband, a PhD in Philosophy, has finally been put to the test and his laughter, indeed, attested to his hard work. I could imagine him pondering:
"If Melmo isn't REAL,
how can he possibly LIVE anywhere,
tree stump or otherwise."
I think Melmo will go to the beach, today. Good to have philosophers and four year olds Travelling with you on vacation!
