Moonshine, concrete poles and lessons learned

Published 12:00 am Wednesday, February 28, 2007

All of us have said at one time in our lives, &#8220I'll never do THAT again.”

Some of us may have learned from these life-altering, most-embarrassed-person-in-the-world moments; then again, others of us are a little more hard-headed.

Anyone with an ounce of sense in him would learn to listen to his elders whenever they start telling those &#8220I remember the time whenŠ” stories. It could sure save the younger generations a whole lot of headaches, heartaches and whatever else kind of aches that could have been prevented had they just listened and learned. After all, our golden generation has &#8220been there and done that.”

But, after all is said and done, let's face it: some things in life you just have to learn the hard way - from first-hand experience.

For example, my mother told me not to stick anything in an electric socket, but what do I do? Well, you know I had to stick that bobby pin in that socket just to find outŠ..I have no idea what. But I sure found out.

Or driving off after I hit a concrete pole at a gas station. Heck, that 1977 Chevy Malibu wasn't all that hurt from the impact, and just because there was new orange paint on that concrete pole, well, I figured it just added to the looks of it.

That was a no-no.

I believe they call that a &#8220hit and run.”

Or how many times did my mom tell me not to drive fast on a wet highway during a rainstorm?

Or not to drive fast on the interstate whenever I was late for classes at A.U.M?

Or not to drive fastŠ..?

You get the picture.

When you're a kid, you can be sitting in a room filled with grown-ups and before you know it, it's as if you're not even there. They start telling all kinds of stories and laughing, and it usually left you sitting there wondering what was so funny.

But there were a couple of those tales I never forgot.

One involved my great-aunt Leona (by the way, the names have been changed to protect the guilty) who had decided that she was going to teach her brother Rufus a lesson. You see, Rufus was headed down the road of becoming a drunkard, and Aunt Leona decided it was her Christian duty to head him off at the pass.

Uncle Rufus kept his bottle of moonshine hidden in the barn, but my Aunt Leona knew where it was because she had followed him to the barn when he didn't know it.

Being the comical character that she was (and in keeping with her Christian duty), she sneaked out into the barn one evening and poured out all of her brother's moonshine. As delicately as possible, she then squatted and refilled the bottle with, shall we say, a liquid of her own &#8220personal” making.

Now, here comes Uncle Rufus ready to get himself a nice, long swig of moonshine. He turned up that bottle and got a big mouthful only to realize, too late, that this was NOT his moonshine. He began to spit and sputter and wipe his mouth, but nothing could get rid of the taste.

By this time, Aunt Leona was rolling on the ground because she was laughing so hard. When he finally put two and two together, Uncle Rufus, even though he was furious at his sister, said that she had saved him from becoming a drunkard because he never took another drink after that.

Maybe some lessons do stick with you after all.

What was that, Sam?

I don't know what that was all about, but Samson, my 21-pound tomcat, was mumbling something about some Mad Dog 20/20ŠŠ.

Regina Grayson is managing editor of The Luverne Journal. She can be reached at 335-3541 or by email: