by Phyllis McCrossin
Some of you may have noticed there is a little furry creature with a guitar on the right hand side of the header for my column. His name is Bocker.
Of course Bocker has a story.
Last winter while we were babysitting our twin grandsons in California, one of their school assignments was journal writing. Oh how they hated writing in those journals! (For someone who wrote for a living it’s blasphemy).
It was a major battle to get them to write 20 minutes several times a week. So Gramma bought a journal to write along with them. When they sat down to write (and they could write whatever their little hearts desired), I would sit down with them.
When I was in high school and assigned journal writing (it was called free association back in the 1970s) my go-to trick was to sometimes just write over and over, “I don’t know what to say.” Back then after a few sessions of “I don’t know what to say,” I started writing about this stuffed pillow I won at a game at the Allegan County Fair. I named the pillow Bocker. I’m sure my high school journal was filled with typical teen angst. I don’t remember. I no longer have the journal and the original Bocker is long gone.
Fast-forward 50 years and I decided that when I writing with the boys I would write about Bocker again. It was an effort to keep writing, and prove to the boys that one REALLY COULD write for 20 minutes at a time. As I was writing with the boys Bocker morphed into a mythical being who met the love of his life at Woodstock in 1969. Bocker kept morphing and morphing and morphing. There is quite a backstory to him now and I may, someday, if the muse strikes, write a children’s book about Bocker.
As I mentioned, the original Bocker is long gone, but I found a Mush Pillow at a local big box store on sale for $5. I added some long hair and a peace symbol and Bocker II was born. In effect, I brought a physical Bocker back to life. He sits in our trailer on my bookshelf, or rides in the back seat of the truck with our dog, Petra. King just shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
So while the boys were writing whatever they could think of for their assignments, I started writing about Bocker and his search for his long-lost Woodstock love Carmen (San Diego). In my story Bocker is a hitchhiker we picked up somewhere in the Arizona desert and he’s been traveling across the U.S. with us looking for Carmen San Diego. (There is probably a copyright infringement there).
It’s become a “thing” with me. Every time we stop along the road somewhere, I pull Bocker out of the back seat and take a photo of him in front of whatever is handy at our stop.( I still have to bring Bocker out to the South Haven Pier).
I’ve felt a little guilty about Bocker not having Carmen in his life, so this summer while in another big box store I found another Mush Pillow. She’s definitely Carmen. At some point in my journal Carmen and Bocker are going to meet up. It seems only fair.
So that’s the story of Bocker and why he’s in the header for my column. My son, bless his heart, when creating the header, decided to make Bocker a part of the family.
I have to wonder if our son is living vicariously through Bocker. He keeps saying he’s going to join us on our travels during the winter, but so far he’s elected to remain in home in Michigan.
Maybe someday he’ll join us.j
In the meantime, play nice, don’t post nasty memes and vote in November.
I enjoyed this so much. My daughter had a traveling teddy bear when she was younger, and my son had a Private JoeJoe stuffed doll. They went everywhere with us.
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