Building Bulldozers, Stoned Henges, and Baby Tales

We just got some good news. The daughter is adding to her herd of Grand-brats. I have only one complaint. If they had really worked at it we could be at five already. Keep in mind I realize this may be the beginning of the end of the world if she has another boy.

The stories in this column are true. Averett lives a dull life in rural Southside Virginia with his wife Management, two children and a rotating assortment of goats, dogs, cats, snakes and other local fauna.

I learned long ago that there is an exponential factor regarding boys. That is, one boy may be no problem BUT every time you add another boy to the equation it doubles the destructive power and halves the collective IQ. It doesn’t take many of them before you have the destructive power and IQ of a bulldozer.

If I ever need to clear a rain forest I’ll get a dozen boys, give them hatchets and tell them not to cut anything.

When referring to my progeny the destructive power is increased further as is the IQ damage. I suspect the only way the world survived my father and his male siblings and myself and my male siblings was that there were never more than two close to the same age. Three Jones boys within five years may be more than the world can stand.

The daughter occasionally calls with questions like, “What should I do when…”

I always offer sensible fatherly advice. “Have you tried…” “Yes,” she’ll say. “it didn’t work.” I always respond, “I’m not surprised, it didn’t work for me with my children either.”

Last week a group of us were having a discussion about what we want to do when we grow up. A few like my bride Management have known since their single-digit years. She wanted to drive a truck and she has. My goal has always been to try everything and then IF I ever grew up decide then. It was touch and go for awhile but there seems to be a chance I might mature some day.

I was asked if my children knew as young children what they wanted to be. One wanted to work at an airline and is. The other wanted to be the ruler of the universe. We’ll have to wait and see how that works out considering that (with his nephews) there may not be a universe left to rule.

Last week when the eldest Grand-brat was helping me deliver newspapers he made a profound and accurate observation. He said, “Momma and Grand-ma’am drive slowly, Faux Pa drives fast and Uncle Man drives faster.” We will not discuss this.

Also last week I mentioned my new 1944 fire truck was missing the nozzles. Yesterday I received a package from a reader in Chattanooga, Tennessee containing a beautiful play pipe hose nozzle. The donor, who I knew from working in the Pizza Palace in Chatty, said he’d had it for years and was just waiting to see what he could do with it. It is now happily attached to Oren (the fire truck.) Thanks Ike.

Now that I’ve actually mentioned a reader by name I’ll add that Ike is the president of the Management Fan Club. Since he actually knew me 40 years ago he knew me before I became the calm gentle reasonable soul I am now. He could probably tell some Averett stories I’d prefer to remain in the closet except I’m pretty sure age and life have dimmed his memory a bit.

I just read in the news that there is a new theory on Stonehenge. I’ve always liked Stonehenge. I want a henge of my own. I’ve even built a small one in the yard except I built mine sideways. Then I was going to build a big one with VW busses but for some reason Management objected.

Anyway, someone determined that each of the blue stones at Stonehenge makes a different sound when struck with a rock. They think it might have been built as a musical instrument. I think it takes a different kind of stoner to come up with that theory. You’ll never convince me that the original builders of Stonehenge were some sort of rock band.