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Uncle Jimmy

I don’t know what made me think of this, but I thought I’d mention my Uncle Jimmy. Everyone has that ‘crazy’ uncle, or the “pull my finger” uncle – well this is my silly uncle.

He was good with his hands and was always building or fixing something. He could make just about anything out of wood. He was always collecting bicycle parts and putting them together for kids in his neighborhood that couldn’t afford them. The parents would arrive at his house insisting to pay for the bikes but he always turned them down.

I had a pair of shoes that I ran into the ground. They were so worn out that my toes were sticking out the front of them. I was getting ready to throw them in the garbage when he asked, “Hey, how much you want for those?” in his silly way. I asked what he wanted them for. He needed some throwaway shoes that he could paint in. He tried them on and they fit.

If you want to get a mental image of Uncle Jimmy, just picture Bert Larhs only taller and thinner. He had that big broad smile with his ‘trucker’ hat slightly askew perched on his head.

At one time he owned a white station wagon. The family and I were over at his house one time and I hopped up on the hood of his car for a seat. He looked at me a little shocked and said, “Are you wearing jeans?” “No”, I told him and must have looked very puzzled. Apparently it happened to a friend of his that some kid rubbed up against this man’s car with jeans on where the rivets marked up the car. He thought I was doing the same.

Another time we were expecting them out at the family homestead. They were running a little late but we didn’t think anything of it. Rounding the corner was this red and white van honking its horn all the way. They had purchased this new vehicle.

Apparently he was at a garage sale where this guy was displaying all his wares in and around the van. Even though it didn’t have a price tag on it, my uncle made an offer on the van and the guy accepted.

I believe it was at this same get-together that we found Uncle Jimmy in the side yard cleaning up some bricks my dad had gotten from a friend of his. We’re sitting around talking and someone asked where Uncle Jimmy was. As it got quiet we heard the clunk of the hammer breaking away mortar from the bricks. He just couldn’t stand having nothing to do.

And finally, the story I remember most fondly: My parents were having a party at their house. Standing in the kitchen was me, my brother to my left and then Uncle Jimmy on the end. Without saying anything Uncle Jimmy turned and walked into the garage. My brother, a question mark on his face, followed him by a few steps. I could stand it no longer – I had to know what was going on. As soon as I turned to find out the matter, my brother and Uncle Jimmy were returning to the kitchen. “Everything okay?” my brother asked. “Yes” Uncle Jimmy said, “Just had to go to the garage to fart”.

I always wanted to be that kind of uncle to my nieces and nephews. I didn’t want to be their friend or the guy who chastises them when they do something wrong – I didn’t want to be their parents. I wanted to be the one they wanted to see, have a laugh with and just be silly with them.

I hope Uncle Jimmy approves. I learned a few tricks from him.

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