Rock And Roll

               A person doesn't have to be blind for  this to have happened
          to them but it helps.  At least it makes it funnier.

               I help baby sit my two and a  half year old grand son nearly
          every afternoon for  a couple of hours  so my daughter can  go to
          work.   Her  husband comes home  after work  and picks him  up so
          Sandy and I take turns, after she gets off work that is, watching
          our grand son.

               The latest thing  for my grand son  is motor cycles.   My 15
          year  old son  and my  son in  law both  have motor cycles  in my
          garage that they work on and ride almost every day.  My son rides
          his  in a  field next  to  our home  because he  doesn't  get his
          driver's license  until August.   Anyhow, my grand son  loves the
          motor cycles.   So,  grandpa and grandma  got him a  power wheel.
          For those unfamiliar with this,  power wheels are battery powered
          children's  vehicles.   My grand  son has  a three  wheeled motor
          cycle and he loves to ride it in  our double car garage or out in
          our  backyard.   The power  wheels run  off a  rechargeable nicad
          battery and the  power wheel motor  cycle we purchased  literally
          runs about 2.5  miles per hour.  They are really neat riding toys
          for kids.  So, now for the funny part.  Because of my grand son's
          love for motor cycles, we spend a lot of time with him out in the
          garage  because he  likes sitting  on  the big  motor cycles  and
          pretending he  is riding.  I had an  old wooden rocking chair out
          there  which I used  to, the  key word here  is used  to, sit in,
          while my grand son pretended he was riding the motor cycles.

               One day, about  a week ago,  I was rocking  in my chair  and
          Everett was seated on one of  the motor cycles.  He always  talks
          with me while he is on the cycles because he likes to pretend  we
          are going somewhere,  like to the store,  to buy pop, m  and m's,
          and, apple juice.  He loves all three of those items.  Anyway, he
          is riding away and I  am rocking.  this old rocking chair  is not
          in  very good  shape.   In fact,  part of  it is  broken but  for
          temporary usage,  it is fine.   It has  very long curled  rockers
          under it  so you  can rock  backward a  long long  ways.   I  was
          leaning back and  just thinking and not paying  much attention to
          what  I was doing.   I was listening, of course,  to my grand son
          because  he  normally  asks  a  lot  of  questions  while  he  is
          pretending to be riding the motor cycles.

               Suddenly I realized I was rocking pretty hard and that I was
          back about as  far as I had  ever gone before in  this particular
          rocking chair.   No, it won't tip over, I told myself, because it
          will rock back a long ways.  Then it happened and  over backwards
          I went.  I  was near the  closed overhead  doublewide garage door
          so  when I  rocked over  backwards, my  head hit the  door pretty
          hard.  It didn't hurt much but I certainly felt it.   The problem
          was, however, I was stuck in the  chair with my neck bent forward
          until my chin was almost on  my chest.  This chair is  for skinny
          people, too, something I forgot to mention, and I am not thin, to
          say the least,  though I'm on  a diet right  now.  However,  this
          particular rocking chair  fix me very snugly, if you  know what I
          mean.  Well, to be truthful about it, you need a shoe horn to get
          me  in and out of the chair.   It appears some knuckle head built
          the rocking chair with the arms too close together but I digress.
          So to get back to my story, I  tipped over backwards, and my feet
          are now higher  than my head.   I am jammed against  the overhead
          door  and  I cannot  get  out  of  this freaking  rocking  chair.
          Actually, I was  trying to figure out  a way of getting  over the
          arm rests  without completely  and totally  destroying the  chair
          because I  wanted to  keep using  it.  My  grand son  immediately
          said, pa, he cannot say grandpa yet so he has called me  papa for
          many months now, are  you ok?  I started laughing  and said, yes,
          papa  is ok  but my  grand  son, not  believing his  grandfather,
          jumped down off the motor cycle  and came over to look at me.   I
          was still trying  to decide  how best  to get myself  out of  the
          chair without breaking it further.  My grand son left the garage,
          walked through my office between the house and the garage, and up
          the  steps  to talk  to his  grandmother who  was in  the kitchen
          fixing supper.   He called  her and said,  papa fell over  in the
          chair and hit his head.  Of course, Sandy immediately yelled  out
          to the  garage to see if I  was hurt or even if  I'd been killed.
          By this time  I was laughing pretty  good and called back  that I
          was fine  but I  was stuck,  half up  side down,  in the  rocking
          chair.  At this moment I figured the chair was a lost cause and I
          rolled out one side; breaking the  chair up the rest of the  way.
          What  a bummer.   Now I'm  going to have  to find a  good rocking
          chair at a garage  sale or yard sale to replace the  one I broke.
          My grand son, for days, loved telling people what his papa did in
          the rocking chair  in the garage.   Good thing the overhead  door
          was closed.  Otherwise somebody might have seen  the whole thing.
          The way it is, only  my two and a half  year old grand son  knows
          what really  happened and  I can  always deny he  is telling  the

          Phil Scovell