Fool's Errand On April Fool's Day

Around a week ago, I thought of challenging myself to a task that I've never endeavored before. The challenge to myself may not seem like a big deal to you and in the grand scheme of life, it really means diddly-squat. I mean to take on this Fool's errand, starting today, All Fool's Day, that will have me creating and putting up a fresh new post, each and every day in the month of April.

"Wowee Gazowy!" you shout with as much exuberance as a kid who gets socks on Christmas Day. You're thinking, There's bloggers that do this every day. Who gives a shit? And you would be a correctly thinking cynical bastard for having this thought rattling in that big ol' noggin of yours. But, given the often arduous responsibilities I have had with certain family members and the time restraints involved, it is a challenge for yours truly. Only recently, have the burden of these responsibilities lessened with the help of several factors.

This challenge can be halted, unexpectedly, at any time due to what certain family members (and others involved) do or not do, of course. Anyway, I want to post something every day for a month just to see if I can do it.

This idea came to me during a weird day I was having, walking at the park. Just as it popped into my head, a huge motherfuckin' dog, that resembled a woolly mammoth without the tusks more than a loyal canine, struggled against the pull of a leash to eat me alive. The girl, no older than 16, was losing the battle of keeping this behemoth, this St. Bernard, from devouring my leg with this flimsy strap on a trail at the park I walk at every day. Several of her friends observed the shocked look on my face and laughed.

One of them said the usual thing that all pet owners say in these circumstances.

"Oh, don't worry. It won't bite."

Hey, that might be true most of the time, regarding your pet but that doesn't mean it won't happen at one point during their lives and it certainly doesn't give any comfort telling me or anyone that worthless shit. Hell, I've been bitten three times by dogs and each time I did absolutely nothing to cause them to take a fleshy hunk out of me. Two of those three times, I had been told earlier that their animals didn't bite people. So yes, I have a fear of dogs. For good reason.

Next time somebody tells me that their fuckin' animal doesn't bite gets to be whacked in the head with a baseball bat. The same goes for dumb fuckers who don't keep their dogs on a leash in public areas. Nobody knows for certain what their animal is going to do around anyone because animals, just like human beings, are unpredictable.

As I tried to quickly explain my past history with dogs to the teenagers while trying to walk around them, which was difficult because of the spot we had all converged, they blew off what I said like teenagers and some adults will do when you're attempting to give rational explanations to them.

The teenagers and the monster dog continued walking past me, ignoring what I was saying. Luckily, I escaped, with legs and arms still attached as we continued going in opposite directions.

Moving on, I later encountered a little boy, pretty far from where his parents were at, sitting and riding on a plastic tricycle. He said, "Hi. Who are you?"

Impressed with his willingness to be friendly to somebody he didn't know at his early age, I said, "Kelly. What's your name?"

He said his name was Tyler. At least I think he did. I really didn't want to stand there and talk to the kid for any length of time because I figured the parents would eventually look over, see that I was talking to their kid and think I was a guy with evil intentions or something. In this day and age, parents are leery of their kids talking to strangers (especially men), with good reason. I didn't want to be confronted with a potential weird situation. I just wanted to get through my day's walk without any more incidents.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on the way you perceive it, the kid followed beside me on his little plastic bike. He was determined to have a conversation with me. It was cute, you know, and I was very impressed with all of his questions and his details on what he had done so far that day and so on. Kids sometimes surprise me with their lack of self conscious behavior and fear that adults tend to have by the bucket loads.

So here I am, hobbling along, due to my feet problems, trying to be polite and at the same time, escape from this kid before the parents can come along and ask me why I'm talking to their kid. I'm doing my damnedest to avoid a potentially awkward situation and he pulls his bike directly in front of me and asks, "So where are you going?"

I felt like saying, but didn't say, "I'm trying to make it to my goddamn truck!" But, as evil as I pretend to be, I'm not going to do that. This was all kinda funny, in a way and I was beginning to feel a little sorry for the kid. I wasn't sure if he was just naturally this talkative all the time to complete strangers or if he was doing it out of loneliness or a little of both.

Exasperated, I took a deep breath and said, "I'm heading toward my truck. I have to get home. I'll talk to you later, sometime, okay?"

I wondered, after saying that, if the kid was going to ask me for my phone number so he could call me at home. Instead he asked, "Where's your truck?" I shook my head and laughed. I was afraid to tell him where my truck was at, figuring he would try riding over to it. About that time, one of his parents finally came over and began talking to him, saying it was time for him to go eat over at one of the picnic tables across the road. The parent didn't look at me once as he grabbed the boy with one hand and the bike with the other. And off they went.

Relief, at last, I thought. lol. But, I was happy to have the experience of such a courageous kid talking to me. I thought what a wonderful world it would be if everyone were as uninhibited as that. Ten minutes later, I was back in my truck, heading home and I wondered what the parents and kid talked about and did for the rest of the day.