Paying Homage to the Wright Brothers

Once again it was time for the Wright Brothers re-enactment down in the little beach community called Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. The Johnson boys, Jane and Jesse, were to be the first of their family to succeed in flying their invention over the same grains of sand as the Wrights. They loaded up the van with their spare bicycle parts, their tools made in Taiwan, and their makeshift gliders and make the annual drive from Ohio. It was to take them only two days but they had a little problem with a law named Murphy.

Everything started out without a hitch, when they actually did get started. And this year they even set a personal record...they only started six hours off of their schedule. Jane, the oldest of the two boys was involved in a long distance love affair; she lived across the street and he was still forbidden to be in her front yard, but that is another “Writer’s Cramp” story. Jane and Bobby Sue would literally spend all day on the phone talking about the times before the great shrubbery fire. Jane tried as he only could to assure Bobby Sue that he was most definitely going to fly a plane further than Jesse was.

So, now the Johnson boys were on the road, windows rolled down and Barney music was blaring. Every five hours they would pull off the road at a “Choke and Puke” for fuel and gas. They must have driven for fifteen hours when they came to a hotel.

The hotel looked charming with the sign with the burned out letters. The sign read “The Kentucky Derby Motel...the service is as s eedy as rac hor es” Jane pulled into the parking lot and revved the engine as Jesse went in and paid for the room.

“Jane, I don’t think you are going to believe this but I think the man at the desk is our long lost cousin, Rocco. He had the same tattoo on his arm, the little heart with the butterfly with the word “Dad” written in it. Let’s hope he doesn’t recognize us tomorrow when we check out.”

“Yeah, we are already late as it is...and his breakfasts could make a garbage disposal sick.”

The night was almost uneventful until cousin Rocco finally placed the face with the name and he had to catch up on the family gossip. For the reunion Rocco had to search long and hard for that special pack of Juicy Fruit gum. It should be aged to perfection by now, lying in the bottom of his desk drawer in one of his not so clean socks.

When the dreaded knock came on the door the boys tried to feign sleep but good ol’ Rocco used his skeleton key to let himself in.

The boys sat up and looked at their cousin. He was probably the in-bred poster child if there ever was one. His hair was slicked back and shiny. His Elvis sideburns framed his face like a cheap shag rug. His nose was red and runny and his lips were chapped. If and when he smiled he would show off his coffee and nicotine stained teeth, all four of them. His flannel shirt was a last years flannel pajama and his pants had more patches then a patchwork quilt.

“Well, Jane and Jesse.” He had the names right but not with the right faces. “So is it re-enactment time again? I can remember the days when I used have to fly that glider...”

The boys didn’t look the least bit interested since they all heard the stories of Rocco’s non-existent flying days. To tell the truth, he was the one they always made hold the stopwatch. Rocco was only a few cards short of a full deck...well maybe he was just the empty card box.

Rocco blew his nose before opening his mouth, “Hey, I just remembered I have this weekend off...I think I’ll go with you.”

Just as this declaration was made a huge bug scampered across the floor. Cousin Rocco mustered the rest of his 58-year-old strength and ran after the bug. In just a few minutes he had the bug cornered in the dim light of the bathroom and a crunching noise could be heard.

The rest of the night went without hassle and cousin Rocco even decided that he should stay behind the motel and do some better pest control.

On the road again and they didn’t have any more visits from long lost cousins, bugs, or even from Murphy’s law. They drove and were making good time until they were about thirty miles from Virginia Beach on Interstate 64. They saw an old hitchhiker and the boys felt it was there civic duty to pull over and help the man out.

“Oh thank you.” Said the old man, “I thought I never was going to get a ride to Kill Devil Hills.”

“Why would you be going down there?” Jane asked.

“Well you see I like to hide behind a couple of the sand dunes and watch these two complete idiots try a re-enact the Wright Brother’s historical glider flights.

“For over twenty-five years they have been trying and the National Park Rangers keep chasing them off. Besides that, their glider is so inaccurate that not even the paper it is drawn on will ever fly.

“Say, where was it you two were going?”