73. Once Again, The One About Adam & Eve

Published on 2 August 2024 at 12:38

© 2024 Robert Sickles 

This is another of my Summer Reruns, one of my favorite stories with a just few edits.

 

I remember the 1969 movie “If This is Tuesday, it Must be Belgium.” The comedy was set in Europe with a bunch of tourists on a bus. Their whirlwind itinerary had passengers confused about where the heck they were and what they’d just seen.

That’s how it was, traveling with a bus tour in Europe with my parents in 1964. In 21 days, we crossed borders of eight little countries and stayed in at least 15 different hotels. It may have been a little confusing at times, but it was actually a pretty good deal for first-timers like us, and our guide was extraordinary.

One quarter of our bus was filled with a close-knit group of older couples, a funny bunch with unusual English accents—New Zealanders, as I recall. There seemed to be a separation line on the bus, with the New Zealanders taking the first four rows and the rest of us toward the back. That separation was also evident on our walking tours, at dining room seating, and so forth. Were we really going to be unsociable like this for three weeks? It all felt so awkward and pointless to me! But I saw myself as a goodwill ambassador of sorts, determined to find a way to disarm everyone and get acquainted.

One day, the bus stopped for souvenirs and refreshments near a German city known for ceramics and fine porcelain. Herded to the gift shop to the right of the bus, the passengers were encouraged to shop for figurines and fancy tea sets. I, instead, veered the other direction and wandered a few streets into the town center. In a novelty shop window, I spotted comical little clay caricatures of anatomically exaggerated Adam and Eve, all buck naked. Adam was clearly aroused beside buxom Eve! Now that was my idea of a souvenir from Germany, and I had to have them!  

 

 

 

I found this photo online. These are not exactly the same and not nearly as well-made, but they give you a rough idea.

 

 

 

A few days earlier, we had all just gotten a big kick out of seeing the “Fontaine Pis” in Brussels.

I had to believe the tour group would tolerate a little more nudie-naughtiness.

The custom was to return to the bus and hold up your little find for all to see and enjoy. It resembled a procession of the faithful bearing holy treasures. Agnes presented her tea cups to everyone’s delight, Edna received applause for her little porcelain bell. Oohs and Ahhs for Mom and Dad—they purchased a pair of way-too-cute, rosy-cheeked Hummel figurines.

I hung back until everyone was aboard. Then I moved slowly down the aisle to my seat, holding high Adam and Eve, turning left and right so everyone got frontal and dorsal views. There were some soft gasps at first. I thought I heard my mother’s voice “Oh, Bobby!” Then a crescendo of tittering followed me down the aisle. By the time I reached my seat, Mom and Dad had their faces in their hands, but the whole rest of the bus, especially the New Zealand folks, was roaring and snorting. Giggles kept bubbling up over and over as the bus motored on to our next destination!

At dinner that night, my parents and I were beckoned to sit at the New Zealanders’ table, where my figurines became the centerpiece. One of the gentlemen, ruddy-faced and silver-haired, leaned over and chuckled what I assumed was a compliment, “You’re a bit of a dag, aren’t you?” and thanked me for getting things loosened up.

I think for the rest of the trip everyone was waiting to see what I’d do next. If something happened that could be seen as humorous, people turned to me to see what kind of reaction I was having. I tried not to disappoint, but nothing could beat the Adam and Eve moment! And just as I hoped, everyone became acquainted and relaxed, enjoying the tour together and sharing their experiences every night at dinner. That is, except for one.

After all, our guide, Manuel, could have been grateful for my ice-breaking help. But I think he’d lost a bit of control of his tour group, and my attention-stealing antics made him glare at me a couple of times.

[While Bobby is acting out for attention in the back of the bus, Manuel is speaking into his microphone: “Now folks, listen here please… excuse me… if you would look to your left, quickly now as we come around this turn… please, people… well, you just missed the most spectacular view of the Alps! That was Matterhorn if anyone caught it…”]

 

AFTERWORDS

When we got home, Mom gave me a sad look and said that my figurines had not survuced the flight home from Europe, they'd been broken in her suitcase, and she had to throw them out. OK, sure, uh huh. Funny though, she did manage to bring home her Hummels...

Today, my wife Linda tells me about her teaching experiences with 2nd and 3rd graders, how tough it can be to keep her students’ attention on a lesson when a certain child in the back row—we’ll call him “Bobby”—brings a toy or joke to class that creates a commotion for the others.

Sure, I’m still that Bobby sometimes, and I take credit and blame for it.

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Comments

Dave
3 months ago

Great story and I loved the retelling. Some how it is very easy to see you on that bus.

Kathy M
3 months ago

You always make me laugh Bobby! Loved reading this again. Poor tour director!

Becky
3 months ago

Got a kick out of this one again. Thank you Robert:)