Shanghaied
Once again, I’ve agreed to something without realizing it.
Some of my long-time readers and old friends may know that I was a Boy Scout when I was a kid. In fact, I was an Eagle Scout, which is the highest award a boy can earn in Scouting. So was my older brother. We both became Eagles because my father didn’t. Much like going to college, it was just an accepted fact that this was something we were going to do. I don’t think either one of us even stopped to consider an alternative, honestly. Once Dad made up his mind, well, it was just going to happen. It’s a trait his sons learned, too, I’m afraid. Hell, I think his daughters might have picked it up as well. All four of us just tend to drop our heads and charge forward, no matter the odds, once we’ve made up our minds.
In any case, back when I did it, only one out of one-hundred boys in Scouting earned their Eagle. My troop had a slightly higher than normal ratio, but, mostly that percentage proved true. The Eagle Award Ceremony is a fairly big deal in Scouts, in part because of how few boys get it. My brother presented me my Eagle, which was another big deal, both to the Scouts there and my family. I don’t think Dad could have looked prouder. And, I think that event, more than any other, cemented the strange relationship my brother and I have. I admire him not just as a younger brother admires his more accomplished and experienced big brother, but as a man. In many respects, I look up to him as a role-model for the way a modern man should be. Intelligent, caring, concerned with family, loving in his own reserved way, and even funny in a rather unique, cerebral way. My father is from a different era, and I admire him, too, but in an entirely different way. And, I have to admit, there are times that my brother is a hard act to follow. He’s an actual genius, holding a PhD. in Physical Chemistry and responsible for the rewriting of quite a few Chemistry textbooks. Still, he’s my only brother and I love him. And I was extremely honored when he and his wife made me his oldest child’s godfather.
Well, that nephew of mine has finally gotten his Eagle. The award ceremony is coming up Saturday, August 12th. They very much wanted me to be there, but I simply couldn’t afford a ticket and all the other expenses right now. So, my brother bought me a ticket up for the weekend. I’ll be headed up North, home, for the first time in about three years. I certainly appreciated that, but, until Monday night, I couldn’t figure out what the fuss was all about. Then, while on my weekly call to the parental units, my mother enlightened me. Apparently, I’m going to be presenting my godson with his Eagle award! A-ha! Now, finally, the light goes on and I get it. So, I’ll need to get a suit cleaned and my good, white shirts cleaned and pressed. I’m afraid I might even be called on to make a small speech, which terrifies me, but which I’ll handle just fine, as I always seem to do.
Family is a funny thing. I have fought for years not to be a role-model for my nephews. I was so terrified that they’d make all the same mistakes I have and I couldn’t bear that. But, somehow, in fighting to make my own way and in my attempts to teach them not to follow any crazy path I might have taken, I’ve become someone important to them. That mythical, crazy uncle who took off for Texas in ’98. The wild-card. Strangely enough, somehow, the lovable rogue-adventurer who’s out there, somewhere, doing things his own way.
So, for a change, I don’t mind being Shanghaied into a little public speaking and, if I’m lucky, some admiration from a couple of incredible young men.
Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after."
--Ernest Hemingway
