Fitting in, thanks Tommy Voore!

Well so here we are , strangers in a strange land.
Lowell and I stayed in our own backyard. The Michigan weather was great. Of course early summer is always nicer than the hot humid weather that follows. Me and brother hung out in the yard or watched television. Detroit had four stations plus CKLW in Windsor Ontario. Be that as it may, Lowell and I wanted to fit in a little better. Truth of the matter was that there didn't seem like there was that many kids around. Summer vacation had started with the closing of the schools but the neighborhood was pretty much deserted. We had nearly new Shwinn bicycles but we were forbidden to leave the yard. I mention these bikes because they would play a part in my future. There is a pretty neat story about these Schwinn's that happened before our move north.

One nice morning brother and me are in the backyard making at mowing the almost non-existent grass. We heard a voice that said, "That's so dumb". I looked around but failed to find the source of the comment. Went back to cutting the grass. This time a really worn soft ball comes bouncing across the yard. Little brother grabbed the ball and pitched to me. "I'll tell my big brother if you don't give my ball back" yelled the mystery voice. Lowell tells the faceless voice that maybe he will get the ball back if we can see him.

Our back yard had a fence separating it from the yard behind our house. I guess the desire for more privacy had caused the neighbor behind us to allow natural barrier of brush to grow up between our fence and his yard. Our mystery kid had been hiding in this green maze of scrub brush and Dutch Elm saplings along with the ever present wild Rhubarb. His first appearance was when he came crawling through a hole under the fence and into our backyard.  

He was a small kid, probably Lowell's age if not younger. Dressed in old over sized clothes, he put me in mind of Emmitt Kelly the clown. A heavy winter toboggan cap, dirty sweat shirt and old denim pants with a belt that was far and away to big. The unused part hung limply to his knee's. I suppose it would have been an almost vulgar appearance except for the overall comical appearance of this kid. The "Crowning Touch" was his shoes. They were old worn out U.S. Keds high top "Tenny Shoes" as they were known back then. All together to many clothes for a warm June day. 

In my most "Yankee" sounding voice I said my name is Kenny and this is my brother Lowell. I thought using my first name might be more impressive. The stranger offered back that he had a older brother named Kenny and he had just got married cause his girl friend was "Knocked Up". That revelation sort of rattled me seeing as how I was still learning about such things. He then offered up that his name was Tommy Voore with two "O"s. He asked  if we were "Hillbillies", before either of us could answer, he said he was in the fourth grade. So me and Lowell had broke the ice with a new neighborhood kid. Things were starting to look up for us. Tommy for what ever reason took to calling my brother Low instead of Lowell. It was a nick name and a friendship that would last for the next several years. 
Posted by OLD DUGGY at Tuesday, June 24, 2008 5:59:00 AM
Categories: uncategorized
 

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