The Real Croc King

Good Tuesday morning, Chroniclers!

Countdown mode. FOUR more days until we take off. Who’s ready? I know I am. The HB and I are excited. There are a few anxious people in the group, but probably not Rick. He’s a pro at this already.

Last week, I came to a realization. Many of you probably believe that we are in the midst of royalty. We have all been led astray; McCroc is NOT the real Croc-odile Dundee. He is NOT the King of the Crocs. Although I believe most of the blame lies elsewhere (McCroc), I will admit having to admit partial culpability in this fairy tale. The REAL Croc guy is someone unassuming. Someone who does not brag about his Croc-ness. As quiet as it’s kept, the REAL Croc King is James Williamson.

Every time you see James, he’s in Crocs. At the pool. Crocs. At the beach. Crocs. At the campsite, you guessed it, Crocs. on. James is the president of our camping club, and his wife, “Adorable,” has tried everything to get him in regular shoes, but to no avail. She’s hidden them. He’s found them. She’s thrown them away. He’s salvaged them. She’s even burned them sacrificially at the stake. He’s somehow reappeared in a pair that look exactly as they did before incineration! He either has multiple pairs of identical rubber shoes or he is a witch. James feels he spent so many years wearing Florsheim, bow ties, and pinstripes that he deserves to be comfortable in retirement. He now wears tank tops and Crocs one hundred percent of the time. Adorable just deals with it. At least he matches up his bow ties with his Crocs.

If you'll note above, at the White Party, the Croc King is NOT wearing white shoes.

I have to advise you all that I’ve had to make a change in nicknames for the former Mr. & Mrs. Francois. It would appear that the former Mr. Fancois is a shark when it comes to playing dominoes. Based on my observations of a match where the former Mr. Francois surgically dissected Team Saffo/O’Rourke, I must change his name to “The Doctor.” Apparently, Doc heard how Mike unceremoniously beat his aunt in several games the night before and felt the need to retaliate. He also heard that Mike had much to say about his win. This is usually the case when one plays dominoes, and there is just a little bit of trash talk going on. Unbeknownst to many, Doc is pretty good at trash talk, and as it would seem, he’s no slacker when it comes to dominoes, either. Unfortunately for Keith, he just was collateral damage. It was a bloodbath. The Doctor took Mike and Keith to school. I was impressed.

Today, I went over to see the Doc to install a radio in the Shiny Marble. All in prep for the trip beginning this weekend. All but one of the eight of us in the caravan have a “toad” (a car ‘towed’ behind a motorhome). We’re using radios instead of phones for communication due to the number of RVs in the caravan. Can you imagine the game of “telephone” between the 8 of us? Who remembers that game in kindergarten? It NEVER came back the same way it went out, did it? Due to a slight miscommunication, both Doc and I have two mobiles each. We decided to make use of them and throw them in our ‘toads.’ Actually, not a bad idea, and it gave us a little installation time. It only took us about an hour to drop it in, we did a pretty clean job, and it keeps our mechanical chops tuned and ready for the caravan.

Awright folks! Drink ‘em if you got ‘em!