Home Opinion Mine Creek Revelations by Louie Graves: Greatest Invention

Mine Creek Revelations by Louie Graves: Greatest Invention


ONE OF THE GREATEST inventions of our generation obviously is the rubber cup-tipped arrow. Think how many children’s eyes have been spared simply because a rubber cup — instead of an authentic chipped stone or modern metal tip — capped the trillions of arrows that came in the fake buckskin quivvers of the famous Genuine Junior Geronimo Bow and Arrow Kits that have been given as Christmas, Bar Mitzvah, wedding, graduation or birthday gifts since Hollywood started making Western movies.

I know that in my lifetime, I have had at least four or five sets. All but one of them were taken away from me by my parents who had warned me trillions of times: “Stop shooting your little brothers!”

Another warning was “Stop shooting at cars” because those rubber cups stuck to the back window or trunk lid as the car drove away. You always lost those arrows, and so another Genuine Junior Geronimo Bow and Arrow Kit had to be purchased. You couldn’t just buy extra arrows. What clever marketing!!

Well, you didn’t ALWAYS lose the arrow. Sometimes you could sneak over to the neighbor’s house after dark and retrieve the arrow. It made a POP sound when you pulled it loose and the suction broke.

POP. Sometimes louder than you wanted, but at least you got the arrow back without getting a whipping from your mom if the neighbor happened to have blabbed about a certain Genuine Junior Geronimo Arrow stuck to his car window.

I’ve been thinking about those suction arrow tips since I experienced an unfortunate related incident in my shower stall. Really unfortunate.

In recent days, I’ve found myself to be just a bit unsteady when showering. In fact, I often lean against the wall of the shower stall in order to steady myself.

Last weekend while showering I rested my wet, soapy back against the fiberglass wall. When I got ready to move again I realized I was stuck.

Just like that rubber tipped arrow stuck to my brother’s forehead.

I tried to pull away, but could not make it POP loose.

I slid up-and-down. Nope.

I slid side-to-side. Nope. Nothing could break the suction.

I even lifted my feet to see if my whole weight could get me loose.

No luck. I just hung there in mid-air, glistening and soapy.

Well, I didn’t panic. I gave some thought to my situation.

Here’s an idea

#1. I could just hang there nekkid and soapy until the folks at work alerted the Nashville Police Department’s Senior Addled Adult Program to go check on me.

And here’s another

#2. Or, I could just hang there until the soapy skin on my back dried out enough so that my weight was able to break the suction. POP!

And guess what?

Both of these things happened at about the same time.

I was leaning forward in hopes of breaking the suction when suddenly — POP — I was loose.

I was not only loose, but my mass cannonballed forward.

I somersaulted through my Bugs Bunny shower curtain. I landed on my feet, but the curtain had ripped loose and was draped over me like a tent.

Before I could get it off, I paused because I thought I heard a sound in the hallway outside of the bathroom. There was nothing wrong with my hearing. It WAS something. It was the sound of a round being jacked into the chamber of a Glock.

It was the police who had been called by my co-workers who were finally alarmed at the absence of their addled adult.

The officers opened the bathroom door.

“Who’s there?” I shouted through Bugs Bunny’s backside.

“Get on the floor and put your hands behind your head,” they replied.

#1. I had no idea who was shouting at me.

#2. They had no idea who — or what — was the lumpy thing under the Bugs Bunny shower curtain.

“Mr. Graves are you alright?” one of the officers asked when he finally figgered everything out.

“I have no idea,” I snapped back. “All I can see is the back side of the stupid rabbit on this stupid shower curtain.”

One of the officers ripped the curtain off me. He gasped at the sight, then quickly draped it over me again.

“We’ll be leaving now,” one of them managed to say, and they all stumbled down the hall laughing and patting each other on the back.

“I can hardly wait to tell the Chief,” I heard one say. “She’s gonna be sorry she missed this.”

I regained my composure and did the only sensible thing.

I grabbed my remaining Genuine Junior Geronimo Bow and Arrow Kit and ran out to the driveway and shot the police car.

They just drove away after cautioning me not to come outside again without wearing at least a shower curtain. “There’s a severe penalty for indecent public exposure,” one said with a frown. “And this is truly, truly bigtime indecent.”

I do love my Genuine Junior Geronimo Bow and Arrow Kit.

It occurs to me that a Genuine Junior Geronimo Bow and Arrow Kit might be good armament to be carried in lieu of a handgun by an officially deputized Downtown J-Turn Enforcement Officer.

IF our city had one. And IF the city officers could manage to forget a certain unfortunate incident.

Last night I snuck down to the police station and popped the arrow off the patrol car window.

Ha ha.

=—-= — =

WORD GAMES. The twins: Hunky and Dory. Everything’s just fine.

=—-= — =


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