The worst kid I knew in school was Freddie von Mousse. Older than the rest of us (we were in 4th grade he was in 6th), Freddie was the only kid we knew who smoked. Freddie was the best marble player, the best fighter, and the best all-around tough guy on the playground. You didn’t want to cross him.
I can remember Freddie being the talk of the school after he spent an entire afternoon holed up in the “Indian Rocks” in the field behind our school nursing a pack of Marlboros while we all waited for our moms to emerge from their monthly Mother’s Club meeting. Freddie’s behavior was scandalous. In case you are wondering, we had much less supervision on campus in the olden days.
Fast forward to the present (I’ve been out of elementary school for 50 years). I’ve had the good fortune to run into Freddie again, on occasion. He seems to have grown out of some of his past abrasive tendencies.
He is married and the father of a passel of grown children. His wife seems to find him tolerable.
Freddie is a talented contractor now.
He even helped me roof my garage a few years ago. Freddie’s appearances are infrequent, but it’s always good to see him when he appears. He’s really a great guy. I ran into Freddie again sometime back… I was flying Southwest Air - lines from Austin to San Diego (business trip, nothing too excit- ing). Seated near the back of the plane, I kept noticing a flurry of activity in and around first class. The flight attendants were noticeably excited, and passengers kept milling about in the aisle. I observed a young mother dragging a small child toward the front of the plane, obviously trying to interact with one of the first-class passengers.
My curiosity aroused, and I began intense observation.
Soon a somewhat small and weathered man in a black ball cap and hoodie stood up.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
There stood my old classmate and playground menace Freddie von Mousse. Soon Freddie be - gan signing autographs. As he glanced around the plane, eyes furtively scanning the crowd as more people approached him, I realized this was not Freddie.
The rugged stranger was none other than Willie Nelson.
He looks just like Freddie von Mousse!
Sometime after this life epi sode, I had the good fortune to hear a friend’s story. In the interest of privacy, we’ll call him Walter. Walter had also been traveling, with a Southwest flight
booked out of Austin, headed to the west coast on business.
Having the need to make an early morning flight and wea ry from a long week at work, Walter had ingested copious amounts of black coffee that morning, in order to stay awake on the long drive to the airport.
Traffic into Austin can be thick, and so it was this morning.
Running behind schedule, he soon found himself seriously late. Upon arrival, Walter raced with full bladder and shoes in hand through security, only to realize that he had missed his flight.
Oh, the disappointment and inconvenience. In frustration, Walter headed to the men’s room to find some relief.
Upon entering Walter made haste to the first urinal available.
I should include here, especially for those ladies reading, a word on men’s room urinal etiquette.
Men are different than women.
We do not visit the restroom in groups or herds.
We prefer to urinate alone, or at least in semi-privacy. So, when entering a men’s room, we attempt to park ourselves with plenty of space apart from those present. Translation, whenever possible, you try to leave one empty urinal between you and the next guy. In Walter’s case, this was not possible. If forced to urinate next to another man, the standard rule is all eyes for- ward. Do not make eye contact.
On with the story… Walter entered the men’s room and found only one open spot.
He quickly stepped forward to relieve himself, positioned between a smartly dressed millennial businessman and a homeless guy. Obeying the eyes forward rule, Walter at first ignored some excitement to his left. Evidently, there was a restroom attendant engaging in animated conversation with the homeless guy.
Finding this unusual, Walter, before flushing, couldn't help but glance that way. To his great surprise, he found he was not looking at a homeless guy. He was staring into the startled eyes of Willie Nelson!
Stunned, Walter had no words to say. In a flash, Willie flushed and fled (I hope he washed his hands). Walter couldn’t believe what had just happened. What a way to meet a celebrity! Go Willie go… typewriterweekly.com © 2022 Jody Dyer
