The Fabled Past

[Icarus]

I may not post in the thread again, as it is mainly for this short story that is too long for the other.
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My grandfather told stories. Any chace we got, us grandkids would gather around and beg him to tell us one. Old ham that he was, this would go on for 10 minutes or more, before he would admit to thinking about consenting.

Once he did, though, we would "settle down like the good little boys and girls" we were, and wait for him to commence. Naturally, he couldn't start without some kind of candy and a drink. He preferred cream soda.

When his "assistant" returned with the required items, he would almost be ready to start his tales of, alternately; "Life in the Better Days;" "Exploits of My Early Existence;" or, and these were my favorites, "Tales Truthfully Told." The final missing thing was our word that we would not interrupt "on pain of a slow and excrutiating death, involving hot glue and wood chips"

I remember the first (and only) time that I asked my mom about that. She freaked like you wouldn't believe, sending me into the other room and calling him.
I didn't develop the habit of listening at dors until my early teens, but my mom was ticked, so I could hear her quite well.

"What in the world were you thinking? Think of the irreparable harm... Who's going to pay for the counseling?"

He said something.

"You ...rotten..."

Luckily, that last was said in the midst of a fit of laughter, or I doubt that I would have heard another story

When he told his "tales of adventure, derring-do on the high seas, and unusual courage," he always took center stage. As I said, I especially liked his "Tales Truthfully Told," as they were the most fantastic of all, involving transfomations and witches brew, secret societies and wartime heroes.

"That reminds me of the time when I was captured by Nazi's during WWII...," knowing we knew full well that he wasn't born til forty years afterwards. "There I was, in the middle of a room filled by followers of the Third Reich, about to be divested of my weapons. Knowing that if I had even just one of my knives, I could make good my comrades escape, in addition to my own, I proposed a diversion.
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sorry about this, but I have to leave for work in five minutes. I'll post the rest when I get back.

[true_noir_chloe]

Do you think you'll add to this story? I really enjoyed reading it. Is this a true story about your grandfather? I didn't really understand what you meant at the top of your post.

[Icarus]

Do you think you'll add to this story? I really enjoyed reading it. Is this a true story about your grandfather? I didn't really understand what you meant at the top of your post.

WWII +40 years =1984 (roughly). Unless there is stuff going on that I don't want to know about, no one my age is a grand parent . This sort of started out as a way to introduce a biography for myself, but I decided not to, and just do the story.

At the top, I meant that it seemed too long to post in the Diamond Disco, and I'm not certain that I'll be writing another story to post here, or worth posting, though I will finish this one. You'll note that I left it in the middle of a quote from the grandfather (me).

Here's the rest.
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'...I could make good my comrades escape, in addition to my own, I proposed a diversion.

What can I say? They were too stupid to live, so I relieved them of that tedious process."

If pressed for details at points like these, he would mutter about delicate ears, our mothers, and graphic violence, before remembering the "hot glue and wood chips" part of the deal.
We tended to quiet down when he said that.

Not long ago, I called to interview him for a report my English proffessor wanted on grand parents. I fed him a line about how with all the stories he told us about himself, he never really told us about himself.

He asked if I was sure that I wanted to hear about an old coot like him.
"Yeah."
Was I positive?
"Sure"
Did I accept that it would be his past, and that some parts of it he will tell no one?
"Of course!"
Really? Because people are just a whole lot of moments that flowed past one observer, and if you take out some of those moments, they may not make sense.
"Grandpa, it's just a report for school! Why go through all this?" Oops.

"Uh-huh. Yeah."
I start to apologize, but
"When is it due?"
Next Monday. I could hear his voice chilling.
"Call me in a month."
That's too late]about[/U] him. But to learn what he feels, how he thinks, to learn about him, I'd have to ask him.

I called him back a few days ago. I asked him to tell me a story. I could almost hear his smile as he told me to watch my mail.

It came today, a couple of small, spiral bound notebooks. Attached to the first was this note.

What shall I tell you?
Of battles well fought, and sails
on the oceans face?

Or a quiet life
in a small town. A teacher
running his errands?

Of all the stories
I've told, none have been true; save
one I'll now recount.

[churchgirl111]

AWWW......This story gives such a happy feeling...
(rocking back and forth as sniffling and crying ensues) MORE MORE...it reminds me of my friends grandfather lol
like having a scar from tripping or surgery and saying he got it in a war...LOL

[true_noir_chloe]

Whoa, my heart palpitated. I want to know what the one story which is true is. This is great, Icarus. I think you should just have the Diamond Disco thread for your poetry and this one for this story. And, when you have another story just start another thread.^^

[Mimichan]

This is wonderful! I would love to read more. ^_^

[Icarus]

You are all so lucky that I succumb easily to flattery. The last post was to be the end of the tale. Unfortunately, I'm finding it difficult to write a believable history of the future for a guy like myself. So, barring an inspiration that I do not see coming ( a frying pan to the head, an extended dream, the future actually occurring.), THIS section is actually it.

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The Code

As soon as I got home from work last night, I began to read the notebooks:

[indent]In the first place, I'm sorry about the report. I was really glad to hear you wanted to know about me, but I wanted to be sure you didn't feel compelled to ask, and that you were genuinely interested. I know that's slightly selfish of me, but I'm an old man, and some would say I'm entitled. Did I mention that I'm one of them?

Before we get down to business, there are a few things you may want to know. My full name is Anthony Jourdan James Michaelson, Jr. Generally, I went by Jourdan or J.J., to avoid confusion with my dad, Tony Michaelson. As most kids do, I came to dislike hearing my full name pretty early on, as it came to be associated with my mother calling me to task for chores unfinished, vases broken, and bad report cards. Contrary to what I probably told you, I wasn't the perfect son. I played ball indoors, ran frequently, and often forgot to wipe my feet when coming in on rainy days. Beyond that, I was a shirker. It wasn't uncommon for me to leave my duties unattended for days on end.

However, this is not an excuse for you to do the same. If your mom ever calls to tell me that you said "But Grandpa did when he was my age," I'll have your hide for my wall. Clear?

Aside from that; general info includes height, weight, eye, and hair color. Height and weight you've most llikely guessed, but to formalize, I hover around 190 and 6-1. I used to be lighter, but I filled out since retiring. My eyes are a dark brown, always have been, always will be. You should see my younger sisters, though. You know how people write about "eyes you could drown in?" She has those. A warm hazlenut brown that seems to go on forever when the light hits them.

Back to me. It is my story after all. My hair was a brownish black before it started to gray in my early fifties. Actually, I found my first gray hair the day your dad called to tell me of your birth. Coincedence? I think not.

Okay, before I start my tale, I think it would help you to know the code. A large portion of it, I inherited from my mother, while the rest, I formulated from books I read and life. I've done my best to adhere to it, and the few times I deliberately departed from it...The word "disaster" comes to mind. "Mistake" aptly describes when I strayed accidently.

The first tenet is simply: Love God. Easy enough to say, but much harder to do, as I found to my detriment.

The second part is of a similar theme, but longer and more clearly delineated: Love your fellow man. Be a Gentleman. That last part means all women are Ladies until their actions prove them other wise. In my 70+ years, I've yet to meet a women who has so disproven herself, so I wouldn't hold my breath while waiting. I wouldn't even bother looking. In the unlikely event you meet a woman, and after getting to know her, find her utterly unlady-like, remember 2 things. First, she is someones daughter. Second, she is God's creation. Those two are enough to make any woman a lady.

For the guys, there are basically three categories: Gentlemen, Heels and Cads. Interestingly, your ranking depends on your conduct towards ladies.

Gentlemen are what we should all strive to be. Courteous, well behaved, and always polite, they make it make it a habit treat ladies as the princesses they are, handling them with care lest they be hurt.

Heels, well, "heel" is a designation for those Gentlemen who've made a mistake.

Cads, on the other hand, are for life, barring a pesonality change or miracle. They have little to no respect for women, and treat them atrociously. Sociopaths would fit nicely in this category.

The last part is a definition. Love is never having to say your sorry. No, not because they love you, and nothing you could say would ever offend them, but rather that you love them, and would do anything to avoid causing them pain.
One handy rule I've found is if you feel the need to preface your comments with "no offense," or "I'm sorry, but...," try not to say it.


Sorry about that. You asked for a story, and I gave you a lecture. Come to think of it, there's a rule to that effect in The Grandfatherly Handbook. Here it is, Chapter VIII, section XX, clause XIV:
[indent]Whenever possible, answer questions with long and pompous
lectures, often citing references with no real bearing on the matter at hand.[/indent]

Oh, here's another interesting one. Chapter XIX, section XCIX, clause C:
[indent]By reading this handbook, you agree to the following:
That you will not disclose the contents of this book, nor
reveal its existence, to anyone under the age of 35. Doing
so will result in your slow and painful death, involving...[/indent][/indent]

...I continued to read, migrating towards my room as the night progressed, neglecting to eat as I digested my Grandfathers words.

Sitting on my bed, after turning the last page, I finally looked up. The face of the wall clock cought my eye, it was after one. Hurriedly, I went to the kitchen and made a sandwich before starting my devotions. As I was reading the Word, I found the code again in Matthew's Gospel

Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy
soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself.
On these two commandments hang
all the law and the prophets.
-Matt. 22:37-40

As I began the usual wait for sleep to overtake me, I reflected on what I had read. I had always wondered where he got that line from.


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Thank you for attending.

[true_noir_chloe]

I loved how he pulled out the Grandfatherly Handbook. LOL
Although, I'm a little confused as to who's saying what and where and when? Are they talking in person or one a phone? Did I just miss something again, because I do that a lot.

However, it's really good writing. *thumbs way up*

[Icarus]

Actually, all this is from the notebook the grandfather sent him, except for this little part I'm about to edit in. That will be the kid in italics

[Mimichan]

*runs in, gives a thumbs up* Jolly Good! Huzzah!

[ice122985]

*runs in, gives a thumbs up* Jolly Good! Huzzah!

this was a good story. you write well, and you didn't have to use action or violence to catch the readers attention. way to go.

[Icarus]

Thank you, everyone, for reading my story. There is, however, one slight problem; : it doesn't have a proper ending. That is definitely a frying pan. Please, feel free to swing away.

I do have a tentative ending, which I will review and post over the weekend. When I do post the ending, I'll just edit it in to the last section.
By the by, I don't believe that i've seen you around before, ice122985. Welcome to the boards

[Icarus]

Okay, the modifications should answer Chloe's concerns and tie up the loose thread of it ending in the middle of his grandfathers story. As always, thank you for attending, and I hope you liked it.

[*Hope*]

I like your writing style! Keep up the good work!*thumbs up*