Thursday, the 12th of March, was a nice day in Henniker. It was warm for a March day, but I’m told not nearly as warm as the weekend. I wouldn’t know, I was away. Up to the north country, right next to Mount Washington. Come to think of it, it was nice there too!
As I was taking in the warmth from this unexpected gift from the sun, a sudden screech and thump shattered my peace.
Around the corner, come Bob!!! Contoocook’s court jester and resident old-timer, in his beat-up 1949 Chevy pick-up.
I have known Bob for pert near 26 years now. One of the first residents of Contoocook to introduce himself to me. I reckon it was in the old Rosie’s café near the fountain back in twenty aught.
As far as I know, Bob is about 97 now!!! He came to me in his 6th decade of life, when he hit a bump while riding his motorcycle, and his denture flew out of his mouth. The passing semi ran over it…I praised the truck driver for the business then.
He jumped out of his truck and came over with his hand extended for a good shake. Of course, he was wearing his trademark court jester hat! I loathed shaking hands with Bob because my hand would hurt for days afterward.
I hear tell he was a bricklayer…figures!
He had on his typical threadbare sweater with a newspaper tucked in his armpit. He walked up, threw the paper on the lawn chair, gave me a big hug, and broke my hand, not to mention my ribs, metaphorically speaking.
On this day, I loathed that truck driver!!!
I am here today to wish you a happy birthday, doc!
He never failed to wish me a happy birthday. Never on the exact day, mind you. I later learned that he kept a calendar of his friends’ birth dates by month. And on the first nice weather day of the month, he would set out in his truck or on his motorcycle and stop by every one of us “youngins”. Being thirty years his junior, I must still be a “youngin”. If it means that I get a visit from Bob each year, I don’t mind.
We sat down to a beer, and he whips out the paper and shows me the results of the Henniker elections. He says, “Look at these boneheaded herring-bone chokers (a bit redundant, but Bob doesn’t care) who got elected!” Then he follows up with his famous phrase, “you guys here need to put some chlorine in the gene pool!”
Not being a pool guy, but having enough chemistry, I know that was not a compliment! And then he asked me a shocker, “This guy Cliff, who runs the show…why is he saying hola and bandwidth all the time?”
Then old Bob leans into me and covers his face as if he is speaking only to me, “I don’t even know what the hell this bandwidth thing is, and I know I can’t speak Spanish”!
With that, he jumps out of his chair and starts waddling back to his truck, “Hey Bob, where are you going?” “Home, to wash this Henniker grime off me…I have four more stops to make, and I don’t want to cross-contaminate!”…“SANITIZING DOC…SANITIZING!”
Bob is right, great term, “boneheaded herring-bone chokers)…I proceeded to doze off… “All the leaves are brown… And the sky is gray…I’ve been for a walk…On a winter’s day…Nosocomial Dreaming…on such a winter’s day!
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