Larry, aka Boomer, wore a facial expression resembled the famous “Happy Face” logo a week or so back at the congregation of Coffee Consumers.  That clan gathers around 2:30 each day and the subjects up for discussion vary with machine gun rapidity.  The loudest orator may guide the gathering, but no man is able to keep it corralled.

“What seems to be the problem?” Cox asked for openers.

“It’s my watermelon patch, located up near the north end of Proctor Reservoir,” Boomer admitted.  “They looked so healthy yesterday—but they were vandalized last night!  It was an awful sight to see by morn’s early light.”

“Did someone trespass and gather the melons?” someone asked.

“Not somebody!” Boomer stated.  “The damage and loss are not the doing of a human.”

“Well, what did happen?” I asked in my capacity as hot shot newspaper correspondent.

I’ll get back to Boomer’s woes shortly, but our local veterinarian recounted a woeful tale of another watermelon debacle hereawhile back.

Mr. Scotty Koonce of our populace, along with his twin sons Aaron and Austin, stood and marveled at a bountiful growth of vineage.  Absolutely lush plumage and melons to please the most demanding in excellence in form and sweetness.

“Let’s pick ‘em dad,” the twins chorused.

“We’re going give them one more day,” Mr. Koonce stated.  “Just one more day will put them at the peak that is not seldom seen in this day and time.”  The decision stood and the trio departed the premises.

I recounted the untimely fate that befell the Scotty Koonce crop and as fate would have it both crops suffered the same demise.

No thievery was involved!  The feral hog population bit the top out of all the melons, being somewhat careful to spare the vines in hopes of more at a future date.

“That is precisely what wiped me out,” Boomer said.  “I waited one day too many to haul ‘em out!  There were big deep tracks and little tracks all around the sacrifices.  It looked like they’d cut the tops out with pinking shears.  They ate the rinds last of all, but they had a family party to rival the Peach and Melon Festival held on Golden Saturday.”

So, what it amounts to is, the fact that Mr. Koonce and Mr. Nowlin were given the same treatment, and I doubt that either one enjoyed the experience.

The closing scene in the Porky Pig cartoons of years gone by came to my mind, but I stifled the urge to quote it at that coffee bash.

"Th-th-th-that's all folks!" Porky would wave at the crowd in the front row at the Liberty Theater back in the days of my youth.

Both of those melon growers would feel better if they’d been robbed with a gun.

We ain’t talking about a nuisance here—we’re talking about a condition that needs adjustments.

Let me hear from you.

My phone number is 254-893-5063.

My postal address is 333 W. Ayers, De Leon TX 76444.

You can e-mail me at Charles@CharlesChupp.com.

By Charles Chupp, Copyright ©2008 Charles Chupp