Somewhere in a galaxy far, far away there is a globe of unknown color spinning around a massive unknown source of energy. The time of this sphere’s trip around its power source is not measured by our time, of days, weeks, and months. The planet’s recognition of time is also unknown but the inhabitants all over the planet still gather for their morning inhalation of energy to keep them going throughout the day similar to us plodding this thing called earth…only we call it bacon, eggs, toast and coffee.
Strange as it may seem even with time being so unsure, this planet does have a Tuesday, and all the older male inhabitants gather at a specific time on this one known day of Tuesday to join as a group affectionately called the OF’s for the exchange of stories, some true, some fabricated, and some have a great deal of embellishment on a small piece of fact.
How do the Old Men of the Mountain know all this? It’s because some of the OF’s are so old they have come to our blue sphere from this galaxy far, far away to carry on a tradition that started eons ago. In order to carry on this tradition of telling old stories the Old Men of the Mountain, met at the Country Café on Main Street in Schoharie, another Phoenix, that rose not from ashes, but from the muddy waters of the terrible August flood that ravaged the beautiful valley of Schoharie, and beyond. Still following the tradition, by now possibly two billon years old, the OF’s met on Tuesday, June 12th at the Country Café, and were treated like kings — maybe not kings but princes anyway. The OF’s came away recommending the Country Café to any and all space travelers, and so as all the OF’s are a little spaced out most of the time, the conversation with all will be on an interplanetary level, no matter who the OF’s come in contact with. MIB I, II, and III are all true you know.
Over the months of conversations the OF’s have the OG’s rarely attempt to discuss how they were as parents. The OF’s do mention how other OF’s brought up their kids but do not discuss how they brought up theirs. When the subject is broached there seems to be a mental block. The OF’s can’t remember if they would be considered bad parents or good parents, strict or lenient, conservative or liberal, worried and concerned, or just blasé about the whole process, proud or darn, here is another mouth to feed.
Now at the breakfast most of the OG’s brag about their kids, and grandkids, pictures are passed around the tables, and the embellished stories start. Using the OF’s as a guide the methods of raising kids can be from “Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child” to “Let the Kids Rule the Roost.” The kids will turn out alright, just like the OF’s, only the OF’s say the “Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child” is the only one any of the OF’s knew. One OF said it is too early to tell about “Let the Kids Rule the Roost” because they are not 70 or 80 yet (if they ever get that far) but the OF’s still did not really come up with the type of parents they were. The only thing they did agree on is that as far as they knew there kids were brought up to respect what they had because at the time the OF’s were kids, and young parents the OF’s were all poor, but since everyone else was poor also they didn’t realize they were poor.
Those OF’s that have their space capsule parked out behind the barn and who attended the breakfast at the Country Café in Schoharie were: Joseph Lubier, Art Frament, Roger Chapman, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Ted Willsey, Jim Rissacher, John Rossmann, Frank Pauli, Carl Slater, Miner Stevens, Harold Grippen, Jay Taylor, Bob Benac, Harold Guest, David Williams, Bill Bartholomew, Steve Kelly, Mike Willsey, Roger Shafer, Jack Norray, Gary Porter, Mace Porter, Arnold Geraldsen, Don Moser, Gerry Chartier, but not me.