“Get the belt…I’m fallin’ down!” said the pair of trousers known as “Smarty Pants”
“Ok…OK…hold your shirt on…I’m gettin’ it!” Billy Smith was getting dressed to go out and play on a Saturday morning and he was trying to reach the hook holding his brown belt while holding up his pants, but had to let go to reach that far.
“Whoa! I told ya…umph!!!” Smarty was now crumpled around little Billy’s ankles and as Billy tried to take a step over to fetch his belt he fell flat on his face!
“See…if you would just do what I told you, this never would have happened!” scolded Smarty.
So Billy Smith, sitting on his bedroom floor threaded his new brown belt through the belt loops and pulled the trousers up as he stood…”There!”
“Too tight….ugh….that’s way too tight….you’re strangling me….use the next hole for that buckle!” Smarty was now struggling to even speak…being “choked” by the new belt.
“Ah…how about being quiet for once or….or…I’ll tighten it up even farther!” Little Billy was beginning to lose his temper a bit.
But, being the very kind boy that he was, Billy loosened the belt and Smarty breathed a sigh of relief but was still “panting” from the lack of oxygen.
Then as Billy opened up his shirt drawer the brown buttondown yelled…”HEY…pick me Billy buddy!”
Then the blue knit shirt screamed…”No…me….you picked brownie b.d. just last Tuesday…it’s my turn.”
Billy said…”OK…you are both so selfish I’m not gonna pick either one of you!”… and he chose a plain quiet white T shirt from the bottom of the pile.
Then Billy heard a commotion coming from the bottom drawer and when he opened it, all the socks were jumping around pointing their toes at him and waving their tops wildly…”Me…..no ME…..hey ….me!!!…”
Billy shut the drawer….took off his shirt, pulled off his belt and removed his pants and went back to bed!

Once upon a time there was a clock named Saul
He was the type of clock that hung on the wall
Well he could see very well all that went on
But he’d have rather been a watch since the second he was born

He always knew what time it was and was never slow or fast
But he had dreams of a better life as the time passed and passed
He dearly loved the Spring because springing ahead was fun
But he dreaded the Fall ’cause turning back hurt his hands some

He wanted a chime or at least a bell
Or maybe a voice so the time he could tell
But it seemed no one cared that he couldn’t speak
When they looked for the time…they just took a peek

“What if I stopped running maybe then they would stare
And they’d take me down and fix me with care
But then what if they didn’t and just threw me out
You shouldn’t do things if you have any doubt”

“So I guess it’s time to be thankful and happy I’m here
And look forward to timekeeping …year after year
I’m so glad we talked and had this little chat
If I weren’t a wall clock…I’d wish to be that!”

“Tommy…it’s time to practice your piano lesson Dear.”
“Aww Mom…can’t I just skip today? I promise I’ll practice twice as long tomorrow.”
“I’m afraid not Tommy….you know the rules.”
“But the guys are having a great neighborhood soccer tournament…and we’ve just GOT to beat those guys from Waverly!”
“You can play AFTER your practice…it’s only for thirty minutes Tommy!”
“It’ll be too late then…AW MOM….PLEASE?”
“Sorry Dear…one day you’ll thank me for insisting that you practice your piano…you’ll see.”

Tommy hung his head and trudged off to the living room and sat down at the piano.”I hate you!” He grunted at the piano making sure not to say it too loudly because he didn’t want his Mom to hear him. Then he banged a D Major seventh chord as hard as he could!
“Ouch!”
Tommy’s eyes grew as big as saucers as he stared at the piano. Then he banged a C Minor chord and heard “Hey…take it easier please.”
“You….ah….can….t-talk?”
“I can complain when I’m struck in anger!”

Just then Tommy heard his Mom yell out to him from the kitchen…”I don’t hear those scales that you are supposed to be playing Tommy. Your thirty minutes doesn’t start until you do!”
“Ah…yes Mom.”

He began playing his practice scales and after the series of scales and chords in his routine warm up he realized that the piano hadn’t “said” another word. As Tommy progressed through his lesson he started to think that maybe he had imagined the “conversation” that had transpired with the piano. He played “Clair de Lune” for his final practice selection without one error. That had never happened before. “Maybe the piano is…helping me……Naw…that’s crazy!”

“That was beautiful Tommy…I actually had a tear in my eye listening to your playing.” Tommy’s Mom stood at the door to the kitchen smiling wider than Tommy had ever seen her smile.
“Oh great!” thought Tommy…”Now I’ll never be able to give up those stupid piano lessons!”

It was years later when Tommy was sitting in a field box in England watching Manchester United versus the Italian National team playing a crucial soccer game when a young boy came up to him.

“Sir…would you sign my autograph book please. My Mom took me to see your appearance with the London Philharmonic and we have all of your recordings…in fact….I chose to play the piano because of you.”
“Sure son…I’ll be glad to sign your book.”
After signing and watching the boy return to his seat, Tommy turned to the person sitting next to him and said “Thanks Mom!”

Actually “M” didn’t really have a name. But in the interest of keeping the story easier to follow and for the sake of alliteration, I named him “M”.
Many…and I mean many many years ago when I was even younger than you are today, my parents had a radio that was as large as a big flat screen TV. At night after supper (dinner…not sure) there used to be radio shows that ranged from mysteries and dramas to comedy and also there were programs consisting of classical music.
My Dad loved classical music and my Mom loved the story programs but we would all sit in the living room and listen to and “Watch” the radio.
Yeah I know… but we did and I still don’t have a very plausible explanation for it but we weren’t the only family that did that.
Well, when the mysteries and comedies were booming out of our large speakers there was never a sign of him. But when the classical music came on, in just a minute or so…he would sneak out from somewhere behind the radio, look around and then settle down and….you guessed it…LOOK at the radio and enjoy the music.
Occasionally “M” would came out briefly when swing music was playing (before Rock and Roll kids) but “M” quickly decided that it wasn’t classical and then he’d disappear back to wherever he’d come from behind the radio.
One time as he was leaving due to swing music being played, I’m certain and so was my Mom; he looked at us and glared as he vacated his listening spot.
This whole series of appearances only lasted a few weeks (neighbors had a cat) but the thing that is the most amazing about this entire story is that it is TRUE.

How all those animals knew when it was 8AM, let alone that fact that it was held only on Saturdays, and they all seemed to knew when that was, is still a wonder to me.
That rear garden of his was hidden, not only from the street and blocked by his big white house, but the entire perimeter of the yard was completely surrounded by a privit hedge that had been there for decades and hadn’t been trimmed for nearly as long.
It was actually by chance that I managed to spy on the scene one Saturday in the Fall when I was but eight years old. I thought that I saw something shiny in the dirt under the heavy branching that covered the ground under those privits, and when I struggled to part all of the thick underbrush and lower branches, there they were!
Old Mr. Thompkins was sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of them all with a large old book opened to about halfway, reading slowly and in a gentle voice and the circle of creatures nodding and turning to look at each other from time to time.
Once every page or so there would be a burst of spontaneous applause, but since most of the audience was furried, there was no “clapping” sound like with we humans. (I assume that you readers ARE all humans….aren’t you?)
Anyhow, there was a nearly complete circle of mostly small and medium sized animals if you can picture it, in rapt attention to the reader and his story. There were rabbits, mostly grey ones, and chipmunks, which admittedly had a hard time keeping still, and of course there were a myriad of birds. I noticed that additional birds were covering low branches with their heads turned toward Mr. Thomkins, intently listening along with the audience on the ground.
There was even a box turtle, and some animal that I’m not really sure of, but looked like a groundhog.
I heard Mr. Thompkins say…”And they all lived happily ever after…and I wish that for all of you…TOO!”
There was silent applause again and then most of the animals dispersed in many directions with a Tabby cat coming up to the old man and rubbing against his leg as he stood. The cat followed Mr. Thomkins into the house so I guessed that it was his own pet but all of the other animals were naturally wild but they all sure did love hearing the old man read  to them on Saturday morning storytime.

“EIGHT…Where is EIGHT?. This is getting to be too much of a habit with him!” exclaimed NINE.
“I am ONE that agrees TWO!”
“That’s spelled Too ONE!”
“This is the FIFTH or SIXTH time he’s either been out of order or not here at all!” said FOUR!
“That makes THREE of us that agree TWO!”
“EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT!” That’s the SEVENTH time I’ve called him with NO ANSWER!” Grumbled NINE.
“Hey…is anyone lookin’ for me?” asked EIGHT.
A number of numbers all yelled “NOOOOOO!!!”
So EIGHT left and all the numbers that were trying to line up accomplished exactly ZERO!

Grandpa Sanders was looking high and low. Into every drawer and into every closet and even into every mirror although his grandson Mark didn’t know what his Grandpa was searching so much for, especially in mirrors.
“Ah Papa…what are you trying to find?”
“Oh….I’m looking for something that I think I lost and can’t seem to locate.”
“Maybe I can help Papa.”
“Naw…I don’t believe so. It’s all up to me and me alone to find it.”
“Well…what is it Papa? Is it a book or a piece of jewelry…or a key…yeah…you are always losing your keys.”
“No…not those things. I lost something that you should never ever lose. Something you need everyday no matter how old you get to be.”
Mark was searching around under chairs and behind cabinets but admitted he actually was just trying to be helpful and had no clue as to what his grandpa had lost.
Then Grandpa Sanders stopped and squatted down and spoke directly at Mark.
“You’ve still got it and I want you to promise me you’ll never lose it no matter what!”
“Ah…well OK Grandpa…but it would help a whole lot to know what it is that I should never lose.”
“The “KID” in you. Even after you grow up and be a man and even when you get to be as old as me…always keep that kid that you are today inside of you.”
“Well…I think I kinda see what you mean Grandpa.”
Then Mark started to think and then a huge smile lit up Mark’s formerly sad face and he took his Papa’s hand.
“C’mon Grandpa…I think I know where you can find it again.”
Mark led Grandpa Sanders outside into the backyard and onto the playground filled with swings and a sliding board.
His Papa started to smile and run, not too fast, but still running, straight for the sliding board, climbed to the top and as he whooshed down the slide yelled out an unmistakable “WHEEEE!” and just about at the middle of the slide, Mark’s Grandpa found his lost “KID”.

Every night at bedtime
After my prayers are said
I say goodnight to all the things
On and near my bed

Goodnight Mr. Teddy Bear
And Mr. Panda too
And Goodnight Dolly Polly
I bid sweet dreams to you

And then Goodnight to Mom or Dad
Who came to tuck me in
And a last Goodnight to my favorite pet
My Cocker Spaniel Ben

And then they turn my light out
And my room goes black
I say Goodnight just one more time
And hope no one answers back!

Have you ever heard
Of the elephant bird?
It’s a wonder that it can fly
The fist time I heard
I thought it absurd
In fact I thought it a lie

But after some trying
A bird book I was eyeing
Said “Exist? They really do!”
But don’t worry they’re rare
And you don’t need to care
Unless one flies over you

To the real, normal, everyday (boring) world, Mr. Jason Worthington seemed like a jolly mature and quite retired gentleman. Oh, he had eight wonderful Grandchildren who thought that he was silly on occasion but otherwise he was widely known as just…well, “Papa”.
But there was a well guarded secret that “Papa” kept only to himself.
Under his various colored knit Polo shirts and an occasional Tommy Bahama flowered Hawaiian style shirt he always wore the body hugging T shirt with the Purple Shield and the large golden capital “G”.
For you see, unbeknownst to his family and friends and neighbors, Papa was secretly “The Amazing Grandpaman!”
Papa read the news every morning in the local newspaper app on his iPad, and he would keep a well tuned ear as he walked his neighborhood for exercise each day, for any occurrence or injustice which he might perceive that he could either correct or at least improve by his stealthy actions.
He would of course upright fallen trash cans on collection day and pick up blowing trash along the street as he made his way through his community but he was always looking for the “Big Help” as he called it.
One gray morning in June he was walking his usual neighborhood route and suddenly saw something that made him instantly stop and dash behind the huge oak tree in front of the Chandler’s house.
A man was climbing out of the side window with a bulging sack. Papa knew that the Chandler’s were at their Daughter’s house in Ohio and so he naturally surmised that indeed…This was a job for GRANDPAMAN!
He crept behind the Chandler’s tall hedges and removed his “ELON” hooded sweatshirt (his youngest son graduated from that University) and put on his Golden mask and coiled up his rather mature body, ready to leap out and strike as the presumed burglar passed by.
And as the burglar was creeping past, Papa jumped out from behind the oak tree and tripped the perpetrator causing him to fall to the ground and drop his sack of stolen goods.
The burglar was so stunned that he stuttered “What…” and then tried to fight free of Papa’s firm grasp. But Papa also always carried a length of rope and an iPod with him on his walks and although the iPod isn’t effective at fighting crime, the rope is the perfect accessory to detain criminals…alleged criminals that is, and so Papa applied the rope using the knots he had learned in the Navy.
Papa called the police on his smart phone and after tying the culprit to the Oak tree, left his Purple and Gold calling card…”GRANDPAMAN” and then hid nearby until the police arrived and apprehended the thief and his bag of the Chandler’s possessions.
His smile was very wide and satisfying the next morning as Papa read the local news describing a “foiled burglary” but the best part for him was that he was still the unidentified “GRANDPAMAN”

(Visit sillygrandpa.com often for more of the continuing Adventures Of Grandpaman.)