Sunday, August 14, 2011
This taut rope helps secure the Portland fireboat, the MV City of Portland IV, to its dock. I don't search it out; mischief finds me. After watching many a Hopalong Cassidy and Range Rider western on TV, my brother and I often tried out learned skills on each other. One was rope tying. We'd tie each other up to chairs, tables or anything we'd recently seen the cowboys attempt. One time, we used my little sister's small rocking chair and timed each other on how fast we could escape. He went first and somehow I escaped rather easily. Well, at least that's the version I'm relating today. My memory does get foggy at times. Now it was my turn. I used various twists and turns, tight knots and a wrapping technique that was sure to baffle even the hardest of 'criminals'. He tried and tried, but all my knots did the deed. Then I thought, why not add some drama and rock the chair... fast! It was moving so fast that it went over backwards, sending 'brother dearest' to his backside in tears. What was that I heard? The sound of my parents driving up the driveway? I scurried fast to at least release my brother from his knotty grip, but all the knots held tight. What to do? There was only one, honest thing to do; the thing that most older brothers would do when found in such a dubious position. I ran for my life! I ran and hid in my closet! Long story short. Dad was not happy. I saw his strap. I was in tears. Turn the page. As I have always said, I don't go looking for it; mischief finds me! Ouch!