A couple of years ago I mentioned missing my good friends Heather and Paul around Halloween, as we’d always get together, take the kids trick-or-treating and have a good beer or three.
Somewhere in that post or the following comments, Clarence popped up, and I later received an email from a curious reader asking for a picture. There wasn’t a digi-fied one to be found at the time, so we made a point of taking a photo of him last night when he emerged from hibernation to join us at some friends’ house. He started out sporting Virginia Shine, but settled into the beers he was handed with aplomb: a little Duck-Rabbit Schwarzbier and Piraat.
The boys are officially old enough to be embarrassed by their old man in public. They join Michelle, who hates it when Clarence the Redneck Mechanic comes around. To his credit, he didn’t rassle any children, enter strangers’ homes or attempt to milk anyone. I heard conspiracies on getting dad a new costume, but while I understand their views, there’s really very little I can do. Clarence takes over for the whole night. He doesn’t shut off, and I can’t really shut him off. When the teeth go in, it’s like this shapeshifting thing happens. It’s all good fun and a great stress reliever, and as far as I’m concerned, I should call him up more often. Because non-family members really seem to enjoy him.