H. Neal Glanville: Downhill wheelchair

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H. Neal Glanville

Maybe it’s my grandniece rolling up on 21 years, or living long enough to have a grand anything.

Feeling great and grand is pretty fair, although the triple digit stuff is scary.

For whatever reason, my 30th birthday party has been rolling around on the weak side’s side all week.

I’m fairly certain that was the year Roy Southard and I started our foolishness over gifts on the major holidays.

Of course, pixies were involved with our interplanetary stupidity, and all have asked to remain nameless in stories like these.

Roy was just starting his career at the Cork and Bottle liquor store, so you grownups can imagine the trouble we happily started.

The party began with a punch bowl — actually it was a kitchen washtub — of the driest Martinis ever known to exist.

It progressed even further when his “unknown” wife to be showed up with a 100-year-old wheelchair and a need to rinse dishes in our Martini tub.

The wheelchair was to mark my leap into the “over the hill gang,” and I merrily wheeled myself to and from the tub.

Also at this party of tub divers was a young man who worked for me. At times he’d allow his over anxious mouth to outweigh itself and this night was no exception.

He started by drinking too much and ended up gently gliding down the Breeze Street hill in the chair.

He’d promised to bring the wheelchair back if we let him ride it, but that didn’t work out.

Roy and I forgot about him, and Roy’s unknown wife to be retrieved the chair the following morning.

We’re still unsure how the chair bucked out, but the young man was useless for several days afterwards and Dr. Malhberg’s repair bill wasn’t that high.

I’m not sure any moral fits this tale of our youth, or if anyone is needed. I’m sure those days of boyish fun are now politically incorrect and virtually impossible to enjoy.

And finally

What a great turnout for Huck Finn fishing day. I can only hope the parents involved will continue the joy of fishing with their kids.

Don’t forget, fly-fishing takes place Saturday at Wyman Museum.

Hey, you be careful out there and stay to the light.

Craig Daily Press columnist H. Neal Glanville can be reached at halglanville@yahoo.com.

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