Uncle Louie

Somewhere in everybody’s family
There’s a storyteller
Whose tales are passed on
From generation to generation. -- Anon

“Dad’s been telling us Uncle Louie stories for years and he keeps coming up with new ones all the time.”

Grandpa replied, “Well Tommy, Uncle Louie was a remarkable man in many ways and he loved to tell stories.”

“Is it true that he had a deformity; a big bump on the side of his face?” asked Nancy.

“No, Honey, there was no deformity. Some people saw a lump sometimes but really it was only that he told so many stories with tongue in cheek.”

“Well what did he look like?” asked Nancy completely missing the point.

The old man continued, “He was small in stature but big in every other way. Nowadays when I see TVs aging David Brinkley, with his deep set eyes, and thin, sharp features, I’m reminded of Louie.

“His main characteristic, though, was his voice. It was a deep bass like Owen Meany’s in John Irwin’s novel. In that book, the author printed all Meany’s dialogue in the upper case because the voice was so loud and thundering. Since reading that book, I always think of Louie’s words as being in capital letters.”

“You’ve made him seem kind a weird. Didn’t people laugh at him?”

“No indeed. It was his voice, no doubt, that first attracted people to Louie. Then they were captivated either by one of his various dreams or by one of his commercial schemes like the proposed “Cat Fur Farm.”

“Haven’t heard that one,” said Tommy.

“This plan attracted considerable attention and gruesome as it may sound, in this strange world of ours the plan might have worked. Louie was to divide his large family farm into two sections. On the one he’d raise rats under controlled conditions; on the other he’d raise cats. Since the rats would breed faster than cats, he could slaughter the rats more often and feed the carcasses to the cats. When the cat furs were harvested, their remains would be fed to the rats. The farm could thus produce furs at extremely attractive prices because of the low cost factor. All that remained was to create a demand for cat fur.”

“Grandpa you’re really stretching your luck.”

“Wait now. Here’s the point. Whenever Louie reached this stage in this supposed sales pitch, he’d notice, by their smiles, that many of his listeners were seeing the bump on his cheek. Louie always noted the names of people who weren’t smiling and wanted the farm scheme to go forward. He figured he would call on them one day when he might be disposing of a Brooklyn bridge.”

Tommy again, “So the guy had a good sense of humor. I like that.”

“But you must understand it wasn’t all fun and games with Uncle Louie. For example, he seriously recommended a major change to the rules of baseball.

Nothing came of it but one day you may yet see some base runners following a clockwise direction, while others would run in an anticlockwise direction as at present. Their paths would depend on the side of the home plate from which they batted. Then to avoid confusion those following the third-to second-to first-to home route would wear different coloured uniforms to signify their path. Another change would permit two runners to occupy the same base provided they were travelling in opposite directions. Finally, umpires would receive extensive training especially to cover the expected rash of simultaneous steals to home plate, one runner from third base and the other from first base.

“The proposal is in limbo but these things take time. Keep in mind that the designated hitter idea was first proposed in the 1920’s, accepted in the American League in 1973 and is still not accepted in the National League.”

Tom was the first to speak after Grandpa finished. “Now I’m more confused than ever. You tell that story without cracking a smile and I start to get a different perspective of the man. I suppose when you really think about his base running idea, it’s not all that impractical. It would sure add some excitement to the game. But somehow this guy Louie still seems unreal.”

Nancy pouted, “Grandpa, I don’t care about baseball. I like the stories Dad tells us about Uncle Louie’s travels. Which one did you like best?”

“Oh that’s easy. My favorite is about those little animals known as Orclevs. These cute little rodents were quite unique because the only place in the whole wide world where they could be found was Orcleven Island, in the Indian Ocean. The natives there revered the little squirrel-like creatures because they were so tame, friendly and so clean. But they also loved them because of the tender and loving ways the animals exhibited among themselves, always touching and caressing.

“In each of the ten years before Louie’s arrival on the island, the entire Orclev population had been attacked as though by a plague and animals clinging together in large bunches died lingering deaths. Each year the colony would grow again but after each successive onslaught fewer animals survived. It saddened the villagers to know that the species was nearing extinction.

“Louie enjoyed the hospitality and friendliness of these quaint villagers and he agreed to investigate for them. He suspected that food was at the root of the trouble. He determined that Orclev’s diet consisted mainly of a coarse marsh grass, which was lush and green during uninterrupted periods of hot and moist weather conditions. At other times the grass was sparse and discoloured. Louie took samples of grasses to a chemist, at a petroleum plant upriver. The analysis disclosed that a particular type of oil was found only in the healthier looking grass. When the Orclevs had to exist on the poorer grade grass, the absence of oil in their diet resulted in a dramatic change to their fur. Instead of the hairs in their coat being long and oily, the hairs became short and dry.

“Louie saw at once that the information was important but was stumped as to how it applied until he realized that the hairs in the male and female fur were different. He saw immediately that when the long oily hairs of male and female touched, the difference in the hairs did not create a problem. However, as soon as short and dry, male and female hairs touched, they stuck together. So that was the answer. Because of their irresistible urge to touch each other, the animals, in ever enlarging groups became virtually glued to each other. The snowball effect was disastrous; the animals being unable to free themselves, soon perished. Orclevs died like flies on flypaper.

“Louie sympathized with the villagers and worked hard to develop ways to store the mature well-grown grass but his attempts proved unsuccessful; their food had to be fresh. Then he tried isolating the animals to prevent touching but they soon pined away and died of loneliness. A particular cold period that winter resulted in grass without oil, and all of the cherished little animals, with their short and dry hairs clung together in huge squirming bunches and soon succumbed. There were no survivors.

“That’s why it is that you will never get to see an Orclev; like the Unicorn they’re now extinct and part of history.

“Louie had recognized the commercial possibilities of the Orclev fur early on and he could have made millions, but he would never betray his village friends by suggesting any such venture even if the Orclevs had survived.

“Years later a Swiss chemist developed two nylon materials which would stick together on contact. It is said that the idea was based on how well Burdock burrs, stuck to clothing. The product was named Velcro; vel for velvet and cro from the French word crochet meaning small hook.

“No connection was ever found between the chemist that Louie had hired and the Velcro inventor. However I’m sure Uncle Louie would have questioned the remarkable coincidence that the name Velcro is Orclev spelled backward.”

Nancy sobbed, “That’s a sad story. Those poor little Orclevs. Tom, you must agree now that Uncle Louie was a wonderful man.”

“I don’t agree at all,” said Tommy shaking his head and allowing a small smile to show, “Grandpa, I see now that you have a facial deformity and so has my father. I can’t trust either of you with these stories. Granny, surely you’ll tell me the truth. Was there ever any such person as Uncle Louie?”

“You’re a good smart boy Tom and nobody’s going to fool you. Are they? The menfolk have been telling you some tall tales and I can see that you can only abide so much. Good for you. Uncle Louie was smart too and you know he came from my side of the family. You remind me so much of him.

“I remember him well. One time during a cold, cold winter, when we were desperate for warmth he invented a heater using heat from some of the last summer’s sunshine. He said that he had actually trapped heat in straw bales in the barn and . . . .

“Oh no Granny. Not you too.”