Wednesday, April 3, 2013

I just got a phone call

 from one of the three members of the Grandfathers club suggesting we schedule a meeting to plan the upcoming summer's special events.

When I was talking to him I mentally took a bourbon inventory. There is a jug in the cabinet so I guess I'm prepared for a meeting.

Truth is, this is just nothing more than an excuse for a couple old goats to drop by and have a couple snorts. This meeting may wind up being more than the obligatory 2 or 3 ounces apiece though.

One of the grandchildren just got his driver's license so I think we can draft him to be their designated driver. We'll likely let him attend the meeting as he is old enough to see the schemings and plottings of three old men.

Come to think of it, maybe the kid can join the club as an associate member if he doesn't get obnoxious and run his mouth too much. We'll probably boot him out in three or four years when he gets responsibilities and becomes a pain in the ass.

A kid of sixteen has few real responsibilities and when you think about it, neither do a trio of old men because their kids are all up and grown.

Looking back on it, middle age is a pain in the ass and because I have no kids of my own I probabaly managed to escape a lot of it I.

Anyway, the Grandfather's Club goes back a few years and the purpose of it is to see to that the American tradition of taking kids for an evening ride in the back of a pickup truck through farm country stays alive.

A couple of times a summer we discreetly meet north of where we live and drive through Amish country with a bunch of the grandchildren in the back of my open pickup.

If the authorities were to catch us doing this there would likely be hell to pay. The big guy in the striped shirt would blow his whistle, throw out a penalty marker and we'd be likely given the full fifteen yards.

Charges would range from reckless endangerment to conspiracy to commit conspiracy.

I suppose you could truthfully call the Grandfather's Club to be a criminal organization now that I mention it. In fact, I once asked Ralph what would happen if we got caught. He replied, "Top of the world, Ma." This means they'd never take us alive.

In reality the rides are scheduled with little warning. I get a call asking if I am free that night and if I am off we go. After the ride when the grandkids are dropped off we meet at my place and strike a blow for liberty.

Truth is, I think I know what this meeting is about. I'll bet the those two just want to drop by and put a dent in my bourbon bottle. That's fine by me.

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