I don’t know why but I tend to come up with more things to blog about when I am in Prague. Is it the history of this beautiful city or the people that live here? Perhaps it is the fact that I am with my family and I feel safe and comfortable. Whatever the reason, this piece is about a handsome young man who means a lot to me and it is based on a humorous commonality that wheedled its way into my mind and begged to be written about.
I want to say that in putting this ‘to paper’ for this is my virtual writing material, I mean no offence whatsoever. I just wanted to record this for posterity so that in the days, weeks, months and years to come, I can look back and grin at the memory created here in Prague.
My partner Angelika has two handsome sons and the one who lives with her keeps me on my toes with questions that pop literally, out of the blue. Topics range from American Football to weather, from food to laundry. I can be in the middle of doing something and he will appear, arms outstretched to give me a hug and tell me that he loves me.
There are times when he is chatting away non-stop about anything and everything, but it is part of what makes him priceless and endearing. The other day, a friend of Angelika’s was sitting with us chatting when ‘number 1 son’ decided that he had important things that needed to be discussed. I can’t remember exactly what it was that was so important, I think it may have been next season’s college football. Anyway, Angelika’s friend waited until ‘number 1 son’ paused to take a breath and said, “Do you know, your mouth is like a Whippoorwill’s butt.” Now I wasn’t too sure what was meant by that but I sure wasn’t going to ask right then because ‘number 1 son’ blinked, took a deep breath and said “It is not!!” and feigned hurt feelings. Later, I asked for an explanation to the aforementioned phrase and was told that a Whippoorwill’s (or any bird, I suppose) butt-hole puckers and unpuckers non-stop, emitting sh*t for no other reason than it can. Now I see the simile, or analogy or whatchamacallit but I don’t think it is fair to compare the two.
Later that evening though I took the puppies, JarJar and Yoda out for their walk and strolling along the snow-covered sidewalk in front of me was a man and his Yorkshire Terrier. The Yorkie was non-stop yapping, and anything, everything and nothing at all … do we see a pattern here? Now remember, I mean no offence, it just seemed funny at the time. But what REALLY put the honey on the biscuit was that the owner of the Yorkie started jabbering away in Czech. Exactly what he was saying, I do not know but since he didn’t appear to be talking on a mobile phone, I can only guess that he was talking to the dog.
I can see you all there scratching your heads trying to figure out where this is going … well … ‘number one son’ is fondly known as Antonio … and the name of the Yorkie? Yep, you guessed it … Antonio.
If any blame is to be handed out for this tale, then I accept some, but most of it goes to Angelika’s friend who put the idea in my head so it would rattle around with the loose screws and assorted marbles until it found its way here.
Luv you Antonio, keep smiling!
~originally written 6 Dec. 2010