The Tippy Canoe

Editor’s Note: The following column was originally published in 2007.

My neighbor Tom often has the sort of ideas for which the word “dumb” was invented.

There was, for example, the time he decided we could save money on firewood if we used a chainsaw to cut up some dead trees on his brother’s property. It started raining the second we got there, but Tom still wanted his wood, so there we were, soaking wet, shivering, reading the manual to figure out how to even start the saw’s motor — a couple of textbook chainsaw masochists.

And while it is true that it was my idea to park his brother’s truck so close to the tree we were felling, it was Tom who was in charge of pushing the tree away from the vehicle while I handled the chainsaw, so I don’t see why his brother is mad at me. I dispute there is a way to chainsaw a tree so it falls somewhere other than on the hood of a pickup truck.

Like I said, dumb idea.

Tom’s current inspiration is to go canoeing, “discovering America the way our forefathers did.”

“Tom,” I say gently. “America has already been discovered, and not by my fathers, fore or otherwise.”

“But didn’t your ancestors voyage to the New World?” he insists.

“Yes. From Canada. They didn’t take a canoe, they rode a bus. Why don’t we stay home and discover your new plasma TV?”

Tom says he bought the canoe over his wife Emily’s objections, so he has to go. He eventually appeals to the Male Code of Honor, which states that no man will ever let a buddy head off alone into the dangerous wilderness with a cooler full of Emily’s fried chicken.

When we arrive at the state park, we decide to get the canoe off the SUV and to the river the way the original mountain men used to do it, which is to hire a valet. Unfortunately, this seems to be a self-service wilderness.

“I guess we’ll just have to abort the mission,” I sigh. “Can I have a drumstick?”

Tom’s reckless idea — that we should carry the canoe ourselves — is what we mountain men would call “buffalo chip.” Tom is able to convince me to participate only by pointing out how manly it would be to carry the canoe, and then he’d let me have some of Emily’s chocolate cake.

After a lot of heaving and grunting, we get out of the SUV. We pull the canoe off the roof and start packing it, but I stop dead when I see a long metal box that cannot possibly contain cake.

“What’s with the tool box?” I ask.

Tom shrugs. “They’re my brother’s plumbing tools. I thought we could return them on the way back. I don’t want to leave them in the truck, someone might steal them.”

“They weigh 100 pounds!” I exaggerate angrily. “You can’t take tools on a perilous wilderness canoe adventure!”

“Well ... wouldn’t they come in handy if we have a leak?”

“Tom, it’s a river. It’s nothing but a leak!”

“I meant in the boat.”

I pick up a pipe wrench, which is sort of an iron baseball bat with jaws. “You’re going to fix a leak with this?”

“Well, what are these?” he counters, holding up the two novels I’ve brought. “Did you think you were going to sit up front and read while I did all the paddling?”

“Of course not,” I snap. “I was going to sit in the back.”

We glare at each other. “Look, clearly we’re ill tempered because we’re hungry,” I finally say. “Let’s eat some chicken and calm down, maybe catch a movie.”

“You just ate waffles,” Tom objects irrelevantly.

“Then we should have the cake,” I agree.

In the proud tradition of Lewis and Clark, we sit on a bench in the wilderness, eating cake, the SUV’s doors open so we can hear the CD player. Euphoric with glucose, I expansively volunteer to take just one of my books, and Tom agrees that he’ll leave his brother’s acetylene torch behind. He’s a fine friend with great cake and the promise of wonderful chicken to come.

Next week, I’ll reveal how things do not go according to plan.

To write Bruce Cameron, visit his Website at http://www.wbrucecameron.com. To find out more about Bruce Cameron and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at http://www.creators.com.

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