It was only a matter of time before I ceded to the inevitability of finally covering this subject. Living on our family farm all my life, we all became experts in this subject. As a result, it has given me a superior ability to cope with all the “manure” that comes from daily life, during my past military experience, and last but not least during my job with the government the last 27.844 years. People often ask me if I will miss this job when I retire. My standard answer is, “Only when I forget to take my medication”! When we were kids and sent to clean out the box stalls, our dad always said, “Pitching manure is the best way to stay fit.”  (Hmmmm, I have to wonder about the credibility of that philosophy since he died at age 35!) Oh, well, Tim And I pitched manure a lot growing up and for the last several years I clean the horse stalls most every night (except during the hottest summer days), and I have had guys “kick sand in my face” “on the beach” my entire life.  Be that as it may, leave it to Tim and I to have had fun with manure. The following missive will point out a few of the instances of fun we had with “scatological materials” (Hey, I don’t want to loose my “Safe Surfing” web site rating)! Besides, I don’t want to be inconsistent with my very conservative lifestyle either! I am convinced farm life produces philosophies that are more conservative as a rule. In fact, when people ask me why I am a very conservative republican, I say that I couldn’t be a Democrat even if I wanted to (which I never would). When they ask why, my standard response is, “Because my parents were married”!  That response is not usually contusive to further discussion, but I think the old adage is correct; “A man convinced against his will, is of the same opinion still.” Since very few people these days have the honesty and/or ability to have a rational debate, I just “fire my broadside” and go on.  Ok, I’d better get off politics, or I will fill volumes of rational and correct rationales and not get around to the story. The first example on the subject of this missive is when Tim and I were young kids. In our bathroom was a small 4-drawer “chest of drawers” that sat “caddy corner” to the commode. More often than not, when Tim and/or me would have “to go number 2”, we would get on top of the chest of drawers and play “bombs away”. One time my “bombsight” must have needed calibration because I missed the water and SPLAT!, right on the top of the seat! What I did after that when Tim suddenly burst in, I’d rather let HIM tell it! I can only say that it will definitely “gross out” the squeamish! We STILL get a good laugh over THAT when we reminisce. If you really MUST know, E-MAIL me and I will tell you one of the FUNNIEST moments in my life and one of Tim’s worst! When we were older (perhaps freshman in high school as I recall), when we were in our “rabbit-raising phase” (covered a few stories back), we had more fun with “scatological material.”  Most Saturdays we hitch hiked to Norwalk to either get a haircut from our favorite place, go to Meek’s Pastries to get the world’s best cream sticks, or just to mess around and cause general mischief. Usually, it was all 3. We used to go in Woolworth’s and Grant’s “Dime Stores” to look around. There was a group of glass “bubble gum” type machines at Grant’s and one of them vended a handful of round chocolate balls that looked like Cocoa Puffs. One time Tim and/or I got an inspiration. We commented on how much that candy looked like “rabbit droppings.” One Saturday, we decided to execute our plan. We got a small bag, put a few rabbit droppings in it, and headed for Norwalk. We went into Grant’s to that machine and after looking around to make sure the “coast was clear”; we deposited the droppings behind of chrome flap door in the “bubble gum” vending machine! We didn’t stay around to see what happened and “normally,” “slowly,” and “innocently” left the store while trying to suppress giggles. We never did know what the outcome was, but have often wondered through the years! It looks like I have room on a web page for one more! When we were about the same age, Tim and I went to the Erie Co. Fair one day (I THINK either Tom or “Kit” was with us, let me know which one since my memory is fuzzy on this one). It was Sunday and the fair was “winding down” that evening. We went into a tent that had an appliance display in it and 2 or 3 of us had “the call of nature.”  (I KNOW I was one). Of course, any NORMAL person would have gone to the restrooms, but NOT us! We went behind the back of the row of washers and the inside of the tent and “left our calling cards.” Afterwards, we ran out laughing all the way down the midway.  Later on when I was older and more “mature”(?), I often wondered what the reaction was of the people that dismantled the display! I’ll bet we didn’t exactly “make their day”!!!!! The last several decades, I have lost my scatological fun since it’s no fun to quickly move my mid-life, Metamucil-laden body toward the nearest restroom. At my age, the “Call of Nature” is starting to become a loud yell! I just hope that the call always gets through on time!!!!!