Robert and Piazza
This is Robert Monkey and Piazza. Piazza is the one with the black nose. Like a kamikazi pilot, Robert turned eight on December 7, 2008. He has been practicing kamikazi-like behavior ever since. The following summer, Robert accompanied his mother to pick up the Monkey grandparents at the airport. On the ride home Robert said he had graduated from first grade, and was due to enter second grade the following school year.
Consistent with grandpa’s style, he asked: “Robert, did you learn anything in first grade?”
His response was immediate: “No, I didn’t learn anything in first grade.”
For the next several days, grandpa would not let this go, and continued to question whether it was possible not to learn anything in first grade. Repeating this statement, that Robert had not learned anything in the first grade, eventually began to eat away at Robert, and he was determined to set the record straight.
At dinner the following evening, Robert and grandpa converged at the same table, removed somewhat from the rest of the family. This was the perfect opportunity for Robert to prove that he actually did learn something in first grade.
“Grandpa” he said, “I really did learn something in first grade. Ask me a first grade question”
Grandpa was somewhat startled by this sudden change of heart, and was hard pressed to come up with a first grade question, so he asked:
“Who was buried in Grant’s tomb?”
“Grandpa,” he replied immediately, “They didn’t teach us that in first grade.”
Posted 2 years, 7 months ago. Add a comment
Two of the Monkey’s surprises were the birth of a pair of monkey sons, also known as the Rambling Dawg and the Big Kid. Rambling Dawg was barely two years old, while his older brother, the Big Kid, was four. As two and four-year-olds go, there was never any indication that they were missing any marbles, or anything like that. But on one occasion it was clear that some fundamental lessons were woefully deficient. Rambling Dawg is pictured on the right, planning his next move.
Planning their next moves
Come feeding time these two little monkeys were seated side by side at the trough feasting like all monkeys do. Rambling Dawg noticed a small pile of mashed potatoes on the Big Kid’s plate. Without any sign, warning, or other indication, Rambling Dawg grabbed the Big Kids’s potatoes and tossed them into his mouth.
The Big Kid was startled, unnerved, and vengeful, traits he undoubtedly learned from the elder Monkeys. He immediately reached into Rambling Dawg’s mouth to retrieve his missing potatoes.
The rest of the story may be self-evident. Rambling Dawg clamped down on the Big Kid’s fingers, like any self-respecting young monkey would do.
The Big Kid extracted his hand from Rambling Dawg’s mouth with only a trace of potatoes on his fingers, but he acquired one of the more basic lessons in life.
EEEEK! EEEK! The Big Kid complained to the elder Monkeys that Rambling Dawg had stolen his potatoes, and put them in his own mouth. On retrieving his potatoes, Rambling Dawg bit him!
The empathic and thoroughly sensitive older Monkeys advised the Big Kid that putting your hand into somebody else’s mouth gets you bit most of the time. It is a chance you take, specially with the Rambling Dawg.
To this day, almost fifty years later, The Big Kid has never again put his hand anywhere near Rambling Dawg’s mouth.
And what, exactly, did Rambling Dawg learn from this fundamental lesson, if anything:
“On discovering a strange hand in your mouth, do what comes naturally”
In later life, Rambling Dawg became an expert at twiddling bits. He learned well that bits in your mouth are nicely secured.
The Big Kid, an expert at risk assessment, proceeds with great caution when investing in potatoes. Potatoes on your plate may need to be discounted, while your potatoes in another’s mouth are next to worthless.
What did they both learn?
The hand is quicker than the eye in a dog-eat-dog world.
Welcome to the Monkey’s canopy.
Posted 2 years, 7 months ago. Add a comment
