Sadly True Stories
The Adventures of Young Douglas – Episode 2
Mar 22nd
Posted by Doug in Sadly True Stories
I couldn’t tell this story without introducing you to an important character. Aunt Mary is her name. Aunt Mary is a real person and, yes, she’s really my Aunt. Technically she’s my great aunt, but everyone in my family calls her Aunt Mary regardless of their relation.
To a third grader, she is a big, loud, bossy woman. By trade she was a math teacher, the epitome of evil to most kids of that age. She made you do things like multiply big numbers in your head while you were riding in the car with her. I’m not talking about the ones you knew. She wanted the ones you always counted on your fingers and still got wrong. Like 7×9. What superhuman can do that in their head on the way to school?
Aunt Mary also had management in her blood. What did she manage, you ask? Everything. Everything she came in contact with. She was one of those people that spoke with authority. To give you a very embarrassing but real example, she has been known to tell the greeter at Wal-Mart exactly what she needs and stand there until it was brought to her. Why would they do that, you ask? Because even strangers know you don’t mess around with Aunt Mary.
The Adventures of Young Douglas – Episode 1
Feb 4th
Posted by Doug in Sadly True Stories
I think I was in the third grade when it happened. On the grassy area between the cafeteria and the main hall there were no trees to protect you from the glare of the South Carolina sun. Myself and at least two others were unperturbed by this susceptibility, however, when we gathered the ingredients for a game of baseball. I can’t remember now if we had an actual bat, gloves, and ball – but I am certain we had a projectile and something to hit it with.
The game was about as much as you could ask from a group of sweating kids who were sure they were being scouted for the Atlanta Braves. There was trash talking, there was base stealing, and there were several wild swings that came nowhere close to touching the ball.
When it was my turn to play catcher I squatted behind the ‘plate’ with a giddy excitement. A friend of mine was up to bat, and neither of us saw a problem with his standing so close to me that his knees could rest on my shoulders.
