Alfred and Monroe go Fishing

The dew was still fresh on the ground as Alfred and Monroe gathered their tackle boxes and roused Big Momma and Doobie from their beds. Doobie looked in the mirror and unwrapped the toilet paper holding her beehive together and put the pins back in the baby food jar that was her cosmetic catch all. She lit a cigarette and headed for the percolator. Alfred stood at the table counting out his hooks and sinkers.


Big Momma came out of the bathroom red hair standing on end and said “What the hell are we waiting on? Let’s get this show on the road.” Doobie glanced over her coffee cup at her friend and said “Oh alright just let me finish my coffee, where are all the kids?” The adults all looked around the empty lake cabin and went to the screened in porch. There in various stages of sleep were their offspring all intertwined and drooling on one another. There were six of them altogether red hair mixed in with brunettes. They lie where they had fallen, Bird telling the sad tell of the star crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet and Buck making fart noises with his hands.

The four adults woke the two teenagers and told them that they were going to run trot lines and fish in the boat for a while. Bird sat up looked through half opened lids and mumbled something to the effect of “omehmm” then flopped back on the bed. The four adults quietly and carefully opened the screen door and slipped out into the sunrise.

The two families came to the lake cabin every year for vacation. This time was bliss for the children because they became one. They lived together, ate together and played together as one big family. Alfred and Monroe had grown up together, neither man having a brother found one in each other. Doobie and Big Momma came into the mix and each in her own way made the picture complete. Big Momma with her boisterous and bodacious laugh, Doobie contributed her dry but sharp wit.

The two couples loaded the little boat with thermos and tackle boxes and Monroe fired up the little motor boat.
They cruised across the still and peaceful lake until they reached the floated Clorax bottle. Monroe cut the engine and Alfred hooked the line. The both began working the line and checking the bait on the hooks. “Gasper goo, gasper goo, catfish, carp…” came the sing song report of what was on the line as they tossed the scrap back into the lake and took the catfish. The morning was dawning and the July heat took over the day. The little foursome moved toward the shade trees overhanging the bank. They tossed lines in the water as they putt-putted along stopping and fishing then moving to a new spot.

“Sptttttblubbbb” went the little motorboat. Alfred looked at Monroe and asked “did you put gas in this thing?” Monroe smiled his split tooth smile and said “nope did you?” Doobie looked at Monroe narrowed her eyes and said “that’s not funny. Now start that gawdamned motor you moron!” Alfred opened the fuel tank and looked in it “nope, it’s empty. Looks like we are gonna have to paddle back to the marina.” He then reached into the compartment and pulled out a couple of paddles. He handed one to Doobie and the other to Big Momma. “You gals get to paddling and Monroe and I will steer.” Doobie gave Alfred the look of death and said “like hell I will. I’ll stick this paddle so far up your SNAKE! SNAKE TRYING TO GET in the GAAWDDAMMNNN BOAT!”

Alfred knowing that Doobie had a dry and sometimes sadistic wit said “oh sure, I’m gonna believe that one” as he turned to sure enough see a snake trying to board the boat. He looked around and the water was thick with snakes. “HOLY SHIT! MONROE QUIT FARTIN AROUND GET US THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” Unnnununnnuna, unnnunnnunnuna went the motor as Monroe in a state of panic tried to start the motor. Doobie grabbed the paddle and started slapping at the snakes. Big Momma started slapping at Alfred. Alfred tried to get away from Big Momma and the boat started rocking. The water was churning and the boat was rocking.

Now I know that the bible says that Jesus is the only person to ever walk on water but I believe that day there were four people in a little motor boat in snake infested water who would have tried. They paddled and slapped and slapped and paddled. They started getting out of the shadows and towards open waters but the snakes kept trying to crawl up the paddles. Alfred would beat the paddle on the boat and then would pump the bulb that primed the engine. Monroe would turn the key and hear unnnunnnunnnuna and yell “your flooding it give it some time.” Doobie would paddle and slap and slap and paddle and Big Momma couldn’t do anything but laugh.

They entered the marina to find their children sitting on the dock and swimming. “Hey how come y’all came back so soon?” the children questioned. The foursome just looked at one another as they crawled out of the little boat shook out their clothing and checked for snakes.

An Alfred and Monroe Christmas Story

Alfred and Monroe grew up together. They terrorized the school and romanced all the girls at North Park school. They loved one another like brothers and as they grew up got married and had children their children and spouses all came to feel the same as the two men did about one another. They were thick as thieves, close as capers and as loving as lemmings. Wait are lemmings loving?


This story took place some years ago when Buck, my older brother, and Bird, Monroe’s oldest daughter, were in the Franklin Junior High School Christmas Choir Extravaganza. There on the stage stood the two older offspring of Alfred and Monroe. The two families sat close to one another announcing one another’s arrivals with hails of “Alfred, how the heck are you! I haven’t seen you in a coons age. Hows the wife. Oh there she is” to be met with “Monroe you look great. You couldn’t tell you just had a complete hemrhoidectomy.” This would be broadcast loud and clear through out the reverberating assembly hall of the junior high even though the two families had just eaten dinner together and arrived at the same time.

It was during this time that the youngest offspring of Alfred was having a little trouble with his “t’s” and “f’s”. Now John Darling would get his f’s confused and say things like “if’s frue” instead of “it’s true”. It was also this very season that he at the ripe old age of five had made his very own Christmas wish list. Now what was on every young man’s list at the age of five way back in 1967? There would have been cap guns, spurs and chaps and of course every good cowboy needs some firefighting equipment because evidently cowboys and fire fighters go together like peas and carrots. It was also the Christmas that Brother Dave, the bathtist preacher, attended the Christmas Choir Extravaganza and decided that he needed to sit right next to Alfred’s family.

Brother Dave sat down next to little John Darling and said “well young man how is your Christmas so far.” John Darling looked up from under his bright red eyelashes and said “Tine, jisf tine. I gof my cwissmuf wisf all tinished.” Brother Dave, returned the smile and tousled the tikes bright red hair and said “Well I hope you get each and everything on that list.” Hearing this Monroe couldn’t resist and hollered from two rows back “Hey John Darling, what are you getting from Santa?”

The little red haired boy jumped up in his seat and said “Hey Uncle Monroe! I’s gonna gef a gun daf shoofs real bullefs and some chafs and some Gee Eyed Joes and a BIG RED FIRE F**K!” The auditorium went silent except for Alfred’s wife’s face who you could hear turning red. Brother Dave blew out a big breath and Doobie, Monroe’s wife, drew in a deep breath. What with all the stopping of whispering and face turnings and the in and outs of breaths little John Darling had the rooms attention and he repeated it again so each and every family could hear what Santa was bringing him for Christmas. “Uncle Monroe, did ju hear me? I’s gaffing a big RED FIRE F**K!”

Monroe picked himself up from rolling around on the floor and while holding his sides he yelled back at little John Darling “I hope you get what you asked for and would you ask Santa to bring me one too?”

Merry Christmas from Alfred and Monroe and me, we hope Santa brings you everything on your Christmas list.  I know I for one would be happy with a good old fashion Christmas Truck.

The Beginning

Now that I have introduced you to my Aunt Francis let me introduce you to Uncle Monroe. He was my daddy’s best friend growing up. He was a couple of years older and just as red headed as they come, hence his nickname Red. He passed away several years ago yet he still lives in all of our hearts.

Now when I say they were best friends I mean they were like peas and carrots, Forest and Bubba, Frick and Frack; you get the idea they were close. They lived out on a country lane and would get into all kinds of mischief like tipping over outhouses and putting flaming bags of cow manure on peoples front porches. They were rough and tumble boys. They would ride their bicycles up to the general store and filling station and count their pennies to get a soda and some candy. This is when they first encountered Alfred and Monroe. They were mesmerized, wonderized and generally enthralled with these two men. They watched them, mimicked them and laughed about them for the next 60 years.

It was a hot summer day and Red had blown out yet another inner tube on his bicycle. He was hot and sweaty but was diligently trying to put the patch on the over patched tube. “Hey Red, what cha up to” Bob asked as he squatted in the dirt next to his best bud. “Oh Heck this danged tube done blew out again. Geese Bob do you think we are ever gonna be able to save up enough to get new tubes? I mean this one’s got more patches on it than my Grandma’s bloomers” Red responded tossing the inner tube on the ground. Bob picked up the patched piece of rubber and said “hey hop on my bike and we’ll go down to the fillin station, maybe Homer can help us fix this better. Heck maybe he has a better one hanging in the bay”. Red hopped on the handle bars while Bob pumped the pedals the half a mile up the red dirt road.

The garage bay door was open and they could hear the radio playing in the background. The boys looked around back but did not see Homer, the station owner, anywhere. They wandered into the bay and yelled out but no answer. They walked around the front to where the store was located and spotted a rusted model T. The car looked much like Red’s bicycles inner tube, a little worse for wear with patches here and rusts there.

The boys found a cool place to sit and in a few minutes out came an older gentleman in a pair of worn overalls with a straw hat on his head. He carried a sack of flour on one shoulder and a sack of dried beans on the other. “Come on Alfred! I aint gonna wait fer you all damnlodged day” the man called into the store. He unloaded his purchases into the car then went back up on the general store’s porch and retrieved yet another sack this one containing potatoes. Once again he squinted in the direction of the store and hollered “Dadblasted! Alfred come on we’re burnin daylight here. Hey don’t forgit to get them nails for the roof. I ain’t sleepin through another storm with that tin a flappin.”

The boys stifled a giggle and dug into pockets counting out change until they had enough to purchase a single Orange Crush soda to be shared. They settled down on their used tire perch to watch the rest of the show.

“Monroe, did you get that bag of flour” came a bodiless voice from the general store. Alfred removed his hat, took out a blue bandana wiped his brow and yelled back “Hell, yes you danged old woman! I got the flour, the beans and the taters now get your ass in gear and let’s go. Bessie is gonna need milking and I got some likker to bottle.” He put his hat back on his head and stomped around the old car lookin at the tires. Then he stopped. He got a pinched look on his face lifted his leg and let out the longest loudest fart either of the boys had ever heard. That was it. It was all they could do. Red squirted Orange Crush out his nose and Bob fell off the tires. They were laughing and carrying on when finally the elusive and evidently more feminine of the two came out of the store. There in matching overalls with an identical hat was Monroe’s identical twin Alfred. He carried a bolt of flowered material, a bag full of ten penny nails and a tub of lard.

He walked down the steps and set his treasures into the car. He looked at Monroe, sniffed the air and said “Oh GOOD LARD Munrow! What the hell died?” Monroe sniffed and said “smells kinda like those Juevos Rancheros that Jose’ made fer breakfast.” Alfred stood glaring at his mirror reflection with hands on his hips “I ain’t riddin all the way back to the place iffin your gonna be letting loose like that. You can just walk home.” Monroe shook his head wiped his face and said “I’ll kick your ass.”

What transpired next was sort of like a game of chicken. Alfred would advance a few steps toward Monroe. Then Monroe would advance a few steps toward Alfred until finally they both gave up and finished loading up the car. Once the car was loaded and the two were ready to set off Monroe got behind the wheel. Alfred positioned himself in front of the car, crank in hand. Monroe hollered “Choke” Alfred confirmed “Choke”. Monroe yelled “Contact” then Alfred confirmed “contact”. Monroe hollered “ignition” and Alfred confirmed “ignition” then sat about cranking that flivver with all his might. There was a sputter and a spew of black smoke then a chug-a-lug then a boom followed by a pop and another plum of black smoke, then nothing. They repeated this process identically three times until finally the old engine took hold and chugged along methodically. Monroe slipped her into gear and started rolling down the drive with Alfred running madly along side. Finally he was able to heft himself into the shot-gun seat and off they went happily down the road.

Red looked at Bob and Bob back at Red. They wiped the orange crush from their faces with dirty hands and tried to control their giggles. The die was cast, the scene had been set they were and would forever be Alfred and Monroe.