Timber Valley SKP Park of Oregon, Inc

by Fred Prout

Sometimes your life seems to go in one direction. Always forward. A super highway. Doing things. Going places. People. We collect people. And places. Like a bee collects pollen. Life on cruise control. New places. Different people. Eyes always focused ahead. What’s next? And new?   The older we get the faster we seem to go. Time condenses. We perceive it differently. Sometimes we look back at people and events of our life. We smile, and look ahead to the endless highway. No need to feed the gas. Hit the brakes. It’s all automatic. Cruise control. Endless highway. Until…

SPEED BUMP

The other day I heard that a dear friend was ill. Very ill. It hit me hard. We had some adventures together that are indelibly written in my memories. Willie saw my reaction to the news. The shock. A good friend very ill. She reminded me that a burden shared is halved. A laugh shared is multiplied.

Suddenly, more news. Larry didn’t make it. This is the first time I have ever said Larry without also saying Phyllie. They were, are, a unit. An extension of each other. I know everyone who knows them will feel the same.

RV Days

Of the tens of thousands of people we meet, a very few are truly special. Can make us laugh. Or cry. I know my tears will mix with those of many others who spent time with Larry and Phyllie. When you share laughter with someone, it changes you both for the better.

Back in the RVing days, Rita and I stumbled upon a membership RV park. Through sheer luck we got an opportunity to volunteer to work on the activities. That’s how we managed to meet some really great people. Friends. Especially Larry and Phyllie.

TRAILER TRASH

Part of the job was helping with the entertainment. After setting up for the amazing Walt Quigley (the best Roy Orbison ever) we came up with Trailer Trash. We would have Walt play Tequila, and Rita and I would encourage (drag) people from the audience, bounce around like fools and sing the only word in the song. Well, duh,”Tequila “.  Larry and Phyllie were always first up and helped more and more people to join in. They were always willing accomplices to whatever insanity was devised. They always added to everyone’s enjoyment.

TOM JONES

Dick and Charlotte were also friends of Larry and Phyllie. If you ever need to define class, look no further than Charlotte. Beautifully dressed, not a hair out of place. The perfect person to pull off a prank. You would never imagine her capable of doing it. Well, the three couples got together to make some laughs. We went to the local thrift store and bought a pair of ladies bloomers. Size XXXXXXXX. Larry got Walt to sing a Tom Jones song. As he started to sing, Charlotte summoned all her dignity, walked down the center aisle and tossed said bloomers up to Walt on the stage. To his credit he didn’t miss a beat.

SLICES OF LIFE

A few shared moments in our lives. A friendship is born. With very special people. Although I am sharing these words with everyone, they were written for Larry and Phyllie. Phyllie, I know you will have many happy memories of your life shared with The Big Kahuna. Hopefully these words will make you smile. You two touched many lives. Probably more than you know.

Love you guys. You will stay in our hearts forever.

Fred Prout

One thing’s for certain at The Home For Senior Delinquents. Every day is a new adventure. Breakfast this morning. We have a buffet breakfast that starts at eight am. Some of our folks get there ten to fifteen minutes early, so that,1) they get their fair share,2)they can get their fair share and load up their walkers for later, or never, or for the cat. 3) They have important stuff to do. Like napping.

This morning, Fran, our wonderful cook had to hand out two pieces of bacon per person. See, the people hovering in line are like vultures. Waiting to strip the bones of their prey. Somehow an entire pan of bacon can disappear within minutes. It’s bad enough when the inmates load up their walkers, but, the highest flying and deepest diving are the caregivers. See, some of our inmates are somehow infirm. They hire people to assist them in various ways. Some of these caring individuals swoop in and take enough food for the inmate, themselves, and their seven starving grandchildren. It seems that bacon can turn people into pigs. How’s that for irony?

I could fill a lot of pages describing our various people. Today I’ll concentrate on: The Villain, The Driver, Three Housekeepers, and The Hero.

Walking out of the dining room, I heard Joan. raging at Ronnie, our driver.
So as not to give the wrong impression, I understand that Joan was happy and said nice things. Once upon a time. It could have been when Truman was president and the world changed. “That’ll fix ‘em “ she might have said.

To describe Joan as a vicious, vituperative harridan might be extreme. Or not.
It’s been said that if her walker could fly, they might reconvene the dunking in Salem. Massachusetts, not Oregon. And not donuts.Sorry if I misled you.

As I walk to the elevator Joan is still barking at Ronnie. He’s getting her wrath because for the last six weeks we have had no one on the front desk. Hey, bacon ain’t free you know.

“ I got a call that my housekeeper is sick, she screeched. Time to check the rabies tag? You gotta tell them that I demand that somebody come up and change my sheets and make my bed. Towels. I want clean towels too. And my floor. They gotta clean it. I got rights. I pay my rent. You tell them to get up there now. And another G.. D… thing, tell the kitchen not to let anyone sit in my chair in the dining room. I’ve been here…

Elevator door opens. Inside are three housekeepers, rolling carts, and all. As they start to get out, I, the hero after all, block the door, walk in, backing everyone up, and tell them they are all being kidnapped. For their own good.
I explain that Joan is on the warpath and wants all of your heads. So, up to the fifth floor we go. Three Housekeepers, three rolling carts, and one hero. We all go our separate ways. Another potential disaster averted.

Just another day at the Home For Senior Delinquents. Hey, I just had a thought. Maybe I should have gone over to Joan, opened her walker and handed her eight or nine pieces of bacon to calm her down. What do you think?

Fred Prout