Crab Apple

Crab apple: (n) a small, sour, wild apple

His name was Page McClain.

It really was.

I will further strain your belief by telling you that his middle name was Unus, which you may not know is the Latin word for “one.”funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Page One McClain.

As you can imagine, his parents were quite colorful. They were hippies living in a town which didn’t believe in hippies.

Page was unique. He was the most intellectual ten-year-old boy I’ve ever met. I think he liked me because I was the only person in the school who liked him. Everyone else thought he was too small, too odd or that his parents were probably Communists, which made him too dangerous.

My parents were reluctant to have me play with him, and it took me a solid two weeks to convince them to permit me a sleepover at his house. But one night I caught them in a good mood, asked them in just the right tone of voice, and had just finished mowing the lawn (which was such a rare occurrence that it always brought tears to their eyes).

They agreed to let me go.

Page did not have much to play with at his house. His parents were poor (which may surprise you since they were hippies and all). When it was time for lunch, he opened up a can of kidney beans and handed me a spoon. (I had often complained about kidney beans in a bowl of chili. Now, coming face-to-face with their point of origin, I was shell-shocked and nearly immobile. But since Page ate them, I ate them, too.)

The only thing Page had available at his house was an apple tree with crab apples on it. They were tiny, red and just perfect for throwing. Many of them had fallen to the ground and were fairly soft. So we picked them up and started aiming them at tree-trunks and, to my embarrassment, passing cats and dogs.

We soon grew tired of this and began throwing them at each other. It turned into a full-fledged crab apple battle. Soon the ones on the ground were used up as ammunition, so we started pulling them off the tree. These were harder. When they hit you in the face, it not only smarted, but also left a red residue from the crab apple itself.

Later that day, when my mother picked me up, she was convinced that my face had been attacked by a chain saw. She actually drove me to the doctor. He was our family doctor—old, sometimes grumpy, but often a bit whimsical. After carefully examining me, he turned to my mother and said, “I think your son has been hit by an apple pie, but somebody forgot to peel the apples.”

The doctor thought this was hilarious. My mother was baffled.

And I was busy in thought…wondering if I had been the winner at the great crab apple war.


Donate Button


Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Advertisements

Absurd

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAbsurd: (adj.) wildly unreasonable, illogical or inappropriate

What a revelation!

One of the first screenplays I ever wrote was returned to me by a producer with a two-word comment: “Absolutely absurd.”

I did not take a moment to go and check the definition of the word at the time, so I took it as a compliment–that the writing in this project was wacky, filled with delightful whimsy. But reading the meaning today, I now realize that this gentleman meant me no good.

Of course, it sheds light on other occasions in my life when the word “absurd” has been applied to my behavior.

I remember asking the prettiest girl in the class to go with me to the prom in my junior year of high school. She gently patted my cheek and said, “That’s absurd.” And here I thought she meant I had a great sense of humor.

No, any way you look at it, “absurd” is not a compliment. It appears to be a way of communicating the sentiment “you suck” while maintaining a certain amount of decorum.

Of course, I can think of many things that I consider to be absurd. But the problem with pointing the “absurd gun” at others is that if you live a life capable of being viewed as out of the box, you are more susceptible to verbal retaliation.

I think I will just go out and try to be funny, enjoy my life and hope that nobody criticizes my particular jovial view.

Of course, this is America. Who could possibly curtail the joy of critique?

Now that’s absurd.