A Day at Work (Ron - Don't worry. This is not about me.)

As Kilo and I were returning from our walk, Camron and my brother were leaving for work. This is the 6 hour day and covers probably 250 miles, with over half on poorly maintained dirt roads. My brother takes care of several leases, and today was a sort of check everything day. I talked to him a few minutes ago and he said that Camron thought it was mostly great. Most of the leases have stairs built up the firewall and down the other side and Camron noted, "you have a cool job. You get to climb these stairs every day." By about the 4th lease he was already almost a pro at stair climbing, and ran ahead of my brother to them. As he landed on the bottom step he disturbed a large rattlesnake that was under it. It rattled, then ran away instead of attacking the humans the way they usually do (not really) but he was impressed. He wanted to go and lock himself in the truck for the rest of that stop.

1st Actual Day of Summer Vacation

Camron is just starting to answer, and use the telephone, which is kind of odd considering how adept he is with all other communications technology, but anyway he must have gotten my unlisted number for a graduation from the first grade present because he has called several times over the last couple of days. He says, "Uh, meet me outside/at the pond, I have something to show you." Today it was a new little robot. I asked him what he did today.

"Went to town, went to the doctor, ate, bought a robot, and now this."

Did you help your mom with the baby?

"I gave her a bottle. They won't let me change her. I don't want to change her."

Then I heard the story of how he found Little Robot in Wal-Mart and bought him for only $4.00, and,

"Remember how jealous Kujo/Kilo was when Buddy came? Well, Big Robot feels the same way. I have to watch them all the time or Big Robot will destroy Little Robot."

Why do they have to fight all of the time? Big Robot is way to violent.

"Because that's all they know how to do. Look at his arms. They're made out of guns."

Why don't you teach them how to do something like - play golf?

"I could do that, but I would need some really little golf clubs and a really little golf ball. And the good news is, it's Little Robot's birthday tomorrow and you're invited. Be at the pond at three o-clock. I'll provide the decorations and you provide the cake."

Okay.

"He wants a lug-nut cake. It's his favorite kind and be sure and wrap his presents real tiny. Oh and Kenneth, you might think about buying him some little hands. He can't hold a golf club with those two paddles."

Why hadn't I noticed something so obvious?

"And the other thing is, Big Robot's birthday is three days after Little Robot's and he wants a missile launcher."

At this point, somewhere deep within me, the certified, licensed teacher monster comes to life and places a we must refuse casual violence obstacle in front of him.
And I might, some day, if he ever changes his ways. Right now he is being a bully and I'm not buying him something he can use to torture Little Robot with.

The child slides right past it with barely a glance.
"Don't worry. He will be good for one of those so you might as well buy it."

All of it sort of made me wonder, if we had knife blades for fingers and rocket launchers and guns for arms and hands, how would we behave with each other? I guess the robots are doing the best they can with the appendages they have.

My brother has decided to take Camron to work with him, maybe often, but tomorrow for a first time trial run.

And the faithful watch-dogs participated.

Robots

Camron just called and asked me to come outside and see his new robot. I met him on the sidewalk outside my front gate. He has named this one Catastros, because it is kind of Spanish, and it sounds like catastrophe. There are five more in the series and when he gets all of them they will have robot wars. When I asked him why robot wars, he said that is what robots do - they fight each other constantly to see which one is the toughest. I told him that it seems kind of ridiculous to do nothing but fight, and he decided that maybe we could teach them to do other things. We both sat and thought for a while.

"We could teach them to play golf. Then we could just sit back and relax and watch them hit the golf balls and walk around the pasture."

There are already people who do that. They play golf and the rest of us watch them.

"But this would be robot golf. And we could bet and make probably a thousand dollars. Enough to build a castle and get a plasma screen television for each room. You can just hang them on the wall."

Have you ever seen a plasma screen television?

"Sure. On television. And if the robots used exploding golf balls, that would be robot golf fighting."

I wonder if he notices that I hardly ever stop laughing when we talk?