I learned to identify poison ivy at a very early age. I seemed to be especially [View all]

[Atticus]

Last edited Mon Apr 27, 2020, 06:38 PM - Edit history (1)

susceptible to catching it from even the slightest contact. So, when, at about age 12, I was hiking through some river bottom woods with some friends and we encountered a huge patch of the stuff all across our path, I warned them to stay away from it. Everyone---except Bobby---back-pedalled and started to give the ivy a wide berth. But, not ol' Bobby.

"Who the hell are you to tell us where to walk" he sneered. (At 12, cussing was considered both rebellious and manly in that era) "Just 'cause you're a candy-ass doesn't mean I am!" he tossed over his shoulder as he waded into the chest high tangle of poison ivy. "Besides," he said as he turned to face us, "I ain't 'lergic to this shit. Never had any in my life!"

As we stared in disbelief, he crushed handfuls of the poison leaves and smeared the sap all over his face , neck and bare arms.

Later that night, our phone rang after dinner and my mother had an emotional conversation with Bobby's mom. They had persuaded their family doctor to open his office after hours to deal with Bobby's "first ever" poison ivy. His eyes had swollen shut and, even scarier, his nasal passages and throat had nearly closed. He recovered after several days without any lasting effects, but never again accompanied us on our woodland jaunts. He did continue being a obnoxious loudmouthed know-it-all until we graduated high school and went our separate ways.

The point of all this? If he is still alive, I am reasonably certain Bobby is one of those assholes out in the street of a state capital toting an AR 15 and screaming that "NOBODY, BY GAWD, CAN TELL ME TO STAY AT HOME!"

I wonder what would have happened if we'd dared him to eat some of that poison ivy.