Happy Birthday, Mike!

It’s Mike’s birthday again, and boy did that year fly by! I spent some time earlier trying to think of something extra clever to post, but had a bit of writer’s block; other than to say that we got no mail today. So Mike, how did you get your birthday to be a postal holiday?

Anyway, instead of trying to come up with something new, how about something old.

I have good memories of the times my family and I would travel to Poppy’s farm in the Ozarks. Usually we’d stay a week, a few times almost two. Always there would be a day or two when Mike’s family would drive over from Branson. If the weather was good, and it usually was, we’d divide our time inside the house and outside in the yard. We could always come up with something to do, even if it was just to look at comics and crack each other up with jokes.

One year we came up with a club, the Human Bean Club. We tied a rope between two closely spaced trees and put an old blanket across the top, weighted down with a few rocks at the bottom; that was our HBC tent. A flag was hastily made with a sheet of paper, colored with crayons (probably from that box of smoky crayons I'd bought at a dime store in Forsyth that had a fire sale). This was - I think - 1964 or 1965. We agreed that having a club had merit, and eventually play money was made and I think membership cards (I can't prove the latter from the archives though). The HBC club lasted over a year, maybe almost two years.

Sometimes I was invited to Mike's house to spend the night, and the hours would fly by. Paper, pens and pencils were an absolutely necessity, and the "creativity" (silliness) would begin. The cartoons I'd draw would usually involve characters I'd make up with oval shaped bodies, hastily drawn hands and odd eyes, big honkin' tennis shoes and messy hair. The plots usually involved trying to outrun a tornado, or were a setup for some pun or play on words. In later years, I came up with one truly odd attempt to build a storyline combining elements of Star Trek, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hogan's Heroes (hillbillies hiding from the rev'noors in underground tunnels, firing a phaser-like weapon to freeze an approaching tornado). If it was late enough and you were sleep deprived, it almost made sense. Kind of.

Mike had his own character, Fuzz-Man, whose special power was that he could attract lint and expand to giant size. Useful when dealing with his arch-enemies, Captain Endust, and the giant vacuum cleaner. Sometimes Mike would draw an already established super hero, usually Batman. Most of my stuff was just odd humor, but Mike's superhero themes inspired me to come up with Jello-Man. That character had worked in the Jello factory and one day had accidentally fallen into the vat of grape Jello (I had a purple pencil). Now that he was a shape-shifter, Jello-Man could thin himself out and ooze under the door when he accidentally locked himself out of his apartment. And he could also...hmmm...well, what else? I'll get back to you on that one. Someday.

Later and later it would get. We'd try to keep the laughter to a minimum as we passed the cartoons back and forth. We'd always get shushed once or twice from Mike's mom or dad. The stuff they put up with.

Once we got into foreign languages. Mike knew some German, and I had learned some French in class. We'd write the foreign words, then the translation. The sillier the better; things such as "I don't understand the beach", and "When will the potato sing"?

Once in a while we'd get philosophical. I had realized something that had troubled me a bit. At the time, M&Ms came in red, orange, yellow, green and brown. We'd been on a completely different subject, so I sprang it on him.

"Mike, why are there no blue M&M's"? We had a good laugh over that and pondered what we could do. We decided we ought to send the company a telegram:

DEAR M AND MS STOP WHY NO BLUE STOP

I wish we'd followed through and actually sent that, but neither of us quite had the nerve. But as we all know there have been blue (and purple) M&Ms for some years now, so they must have gotten the message somehow.

Once or twice we stayed up late enough that we heard the newspaper hit the front step. Mike would go out and bring it in, and we'd head straight for the comics page.

We had to be among the first in town to read the days comic strips in the Branson Beacon. Got a jump on most everybody else. That felt good. Then we'd finally get a few hours sleep, and pretty much be worthless for the rest of the day.

Mike, I hope you had a great day and made more fun memories!

(I'd like to read a response to this...I know I left stuff out.)