Time

When I was a kid I used to pretend that my Grandma's garage was a time machine. I don't even remember how old I was but I was pretty young, let's go with seven years old. I vaguely remember taking some chalk and drawing a vertical rectangle on the wall, that was the view screen. I think I wrote some random numbers too and a big plus sign in the middle, that was the reticle. I have no idea what was going through my head. Hey, I was a kid. I found an old crutch in the garage. The garage was relatively clean, the house was very old so there was a fair amount of dust and a musty smell, but my Granddaddy kept it clean. I remember there was a shelf of books waaay at the top of a shelf that I would never be able to read. There was a book labled Star Trek by Gene Roddenberry up there that I couldn't possibly get to. I think I knew what Star Trek was because my Uncle loved it. I'm pretty sure that I had seen it. No doubt it was already very old and in syndication at my age.

Now that I think about it, I drew some tiny squares too, they were supposed to be buttons. I tapped at the squares in a random order and announced that I was on my way to, "Dinosaur Times!" I'd hit the make believe button and began to shimmy and shake. I would hold on to something nearby and say, "Whoa." Then I had arrived. As I would open the door that led to my Grandparents back yard, I would hear the hydraulics in the make believe Time Machine Hatch. Before I stepped into the prehistoric jungle, I grabbed my trusty rifle, this rifle was the Crutch that I had found. I held it like I had seen Chuck Connors hold his, He was the Rifleman of course, He knew what he was doing.

Just to the right of the Garage Doorway was the Back Door to my Grandparents house, it led directly to the kitchen or a Space Ship, if you will. That was really a make believe game for another day, today was Time Machine day. I assume now as an adult, that I got this idea from watching too much television, the same thing that I would blame my adult imagination on. I am being mostly facetious but I am also totally serious. Television brought me happiness, it brought me safety. Later on when stuff was going on like my parents divorcing and my Mom dying, I still had television. I had Saturday Morning Cartoons and The A Team and Hunter and Stingray and later The Equalizer. TV was always there for me. TV was my constant. Now, one thing that Grandaddy loved was Westerns, we watched westerns all the time, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, Have Gun Will Travel and again, The Rifleman. Usually on the local UHF stations at the time, when the block of Westerns would end they would show some really bad movies. It may have been The Lost World or something else, but I think I remember a Big Game Hunter wanting to bag himself a T-Rex. I am not talking about the Sequel to Jurassic Park of course, I'm talking about some really bad film from either the late 60's or early 70's.

As a child, I loved guns, I think that most boys do, I loved toy guns, I had all sorts of cap guns, plastic guns that shot these little tiny discs and even ones that shot these tiny yellow beads. Today, the crutch was better, because those tiny handguns would never take down a T-Rex and I knew this Rifle was the only thing to do it. Also, I'm pretty sure I would lose my toys at my Grandma's on a regular basis. I stood on the concrete back porch which had three steps that led down to the patio which led to the green grass of the backyard. Today that green grass was a vast jungle with birds that went, "OOH OOH OOOH OOH AHH AHH AHH AHH" because I had heard those type of sounds on TV. I gripped my trusty rifle close to my chest, Old Bessie had never yet let me down, She would really need to be ready for this task. Tyrannosaurus Rex means Terrible Lizard I believe, so this was some serious stuff.

I made my way to the grass, which was the threshold to the terrible jungle. Giant Mosquitoes could be seen in the distance, I could probably pick one or two of them off with my imaginary scope but I was better off saving my ammo for my real challenge. I raised my weapon and looked left to right for my unsuspecting prey. All I saw was acres of trees and leaves, a dense gathering of green that looked impossible to navigate. This would be quite a challenge. Before I could take a step toward the unknown dangers of the mysterious Jungle I heard my Grandma from behind, "Lunch Time!" Oh no, I needed to speed this up, My Grandma had either made Hot Dogs or a Baloney Sandwich with Kraft Sliced Cheese and Mayo. There would no doubt be Fritos to go along with it. I had to make this quick. Just like that, He appeared. The Mighty T-Rex. He was Mighty, He was fierce and he looked pissed.

He also looked just like the crappy Dinosaur puppets from Land of the Lost, because I was a kid that watched too much television. I raised my Rifle and without hesitation blasted him in the chest. He roared in pain and fell like a falling timber. A loud THOOM and the dust settled. He was dead and I was victorious. I was also starving, so without another second to spare I ran up the back porch stairs, kicked open the garage door, blindly tossed the crutch back inside, slammed the door and made my way into the kitchen. I sat down with my sisters and cousins and ate lunch. We most likely watched As the World Turns with Grandma and soon I had completely forgot about the dead giant in the backyard. No doubt, in my Grandparents old house, where they no longer reside, where nothing resides, it's an old husk of a home, peeling white paint and an overgrown front and backyard, somewhere deep in the thick grass lies the skeleton of a T-Rex.

My Trophy.

a song.