Lovin' on Larry

Back in the early to mid-60's, rolling yards was a pretty popular evening pastime. I ought to know for I was half of the renowned team of Smith & Jones, purveyors of the finest roll jobs East of the Mississippi! Mark and I were quite skilled at this art form and decided in 1965, we would hit one house a week for the entire school year. The selection process was quite simple: how much do we “love” the potential rollee? “Love” is defined kinda loosely. Class clowns got a fair amount, anyone with a positive attitude was on the list. There were other considerations as well. Consider the future “loved one” having a grouchy old man with a shotgun. He or she is gonna loose a lotta love. Just think for a minute: for all our loving labor and expenses we get nothing other than a buttful of buckshot? That hardly seems fair.

Now there had to be exceptions. Larry was a class clown of the first water. His attitude toward life was positively contagious and if you were having a bad day, a little exposure to Larry would fix what ails ya! There were three problems: 1) there were mercury vapor street lights in the front and back yards, 2) his old man was a crab, and 3) he had a shotgun. These were actually no problem for we were teenage boys and everyone knows that teenage boys have no discernible brains at all!

Since the job would be quite large, at least a hundred-roller, we would need help unless we did the job over a couple of nights and it didn't take brains to know Larry's father would be waiting.

Edgar, Glenn, Jim, and Roy happily volunteered when asked. It was always a honor to be asked to serve with Smith & Jones! Only the Best for the Best! We used the same team on the outhouse job and I have to say, those boys had courage under fire! That one needs to be documented as well. ...and the Shady Banks Motor Court job as long as the statute of limitations has run out. 50 years might be enough! We did good.

 

Obviously, we needed supplies and for this amount, we decided a trip to the Dollar store (back then they were known as dime stores) was in order. Imagine having a half dozen teenage boys come in your store and fill a couple of carts with all of your T.P.? Might mischief be planned?

Time to begin the endeavor to truly honor a much-loved classmate! We all need love and Larry was gonna get some good and hard!

I'll leave out transportation logistics as it includes a cache, bicycles, variable miles, and is messy. 5 of the 6 of us arrived from the deep woods to the target. As it was in the 20s, all the drapes were drawn which was really a blessing for Roy, our HS quarterback, who had volunteered for the single tree out front next to the parent's bed-room, back-lit by the worst of the mercury vapors. “To you who about to die, we salute you!”

I called the next part the “The Toilet Paper Ballet” as a well-practiced team such as ours was a joy to watch (and shoot !). I don't know why we never thought to paint paper plates black, make separators, and give our creations eyes. ...sigh... Imagine going around the garage and having a quartet of giant Scrubbing Bubbles staring at you! Such a lost opportunity! Heck, I'd roll my own house for that effect!

Last was Roy's tree. He wasn't visible from the back, just the rolls soaring over the tree. He had a plan. His loop ends were longer in order to reach the trunk where he drew them all together. In addition, he made 2 counter-spirals down the trunk! Such a work of art! Such majesty! I could weep! A giant Q-tip!

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