The Gray Badger
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The Gray Badger
For those of you who don’t know about the Badger, he is the subject of what I consider a minor great work of mine, The Badger. A lot of people who read The Badger thought it was a story about how guys always get away with shit. It was possibly partly about that, but in my mind it was mostly about how we understand things like guests bringing beer or snacks or even washing the dishes to be “worth something” and that’s fine, but what about A BADGER’S EXISTENCE and A BADGER’S PRESENCE? How much is THAT worth?
It is worth a lot, and this is what The Badger is about.
The Badger has a father, the Gray Badger. (The Badger’s sister is the Golden Badger, his mother is Lady Badger.)
I saw the Gray Badger once at the supermarket when I was first becoming friends with the Badger, and I said, “Oh, you’re the Badger’s dad, wow, I just love the Badger.”
The Gray Badger, who has a gray ponytail, just leaned over his cart full of gray Badger groceries, and said, “Yeah, I guess he’s alright.”
There was no twinkle in his eye.
The Badger is a scientist and teacher of science, and the other day he was on a local radio program called “Educationally Speaking” talking about both. The local superintendent of schools was part of the conversation, and as it happened, the Gray Badger, who works part-time at the local radio station, was the Badger’s sound engineer. Yes, you heard that right. This is a small town.
I have no idea what the Badger talked about. Frogs. Newts. Worms. Climate change. Rivers.
After the broadcast, the local superintendent of schools suggested that everyone go for a beer. The Gray Badger and the Badger both love beer, and going for beers.
The closest place to go was McGee’s, which on a Saturday night can be kind of an intense experience. The local superintendent of schools in fact wondered aloud about potential safety issues. But the Badger assured the local superintendent of schools and the Gray Badger that on a Tuesday night, McGee’s would be chill.
The Badger, the Gray Badger and the local superintendent of schools walked the block and a half, up the hill, past the Bonanza minimart, to McGee’s. The local superintendent of schools told a story about growing up here and getting cigarettes for his grandmother at Bonanza. I had no idea Bonanza had been around for so long. The Badger is always teaching me things about our little part of the world with his anecdotes!
McGee’s was bumping. They took the last spots at the bar, with the Badger standing and letting the older men sit.
The bartender was nowhere to be found. A pit bull ran around in circles, collarless, slippery, deranged.
The Gray Badger was not amused. At one point the bartender looked over and the Gray Badger had his hands raised over his head in frustration, which probably made their drink wait worse. The dog kept barking. The local superintendent of schools made polite inquiries about the status/well-being of local wildlife and the Badger answered. The beers remained totally out of reach.
The dog barked and barked. His owner or minder half-heartedly grabbed at him and then laughed when the dog evaded him and went off to bark in someone’s face.
The Gray Badger had had it. The Gray Badger is not a guy who likes to get upset, but he will if conditions are right. He shouted, “Shut that fucking dog up!”
Silence fell over the bar. Everyone turned to stare at the Gray Badger who was vibrating with badger-like indignation. The dog stopped barking. Then everyone burst out laughing.
I asked the Badger if his dad laughed too. He said he sort of laughed but was mostly like, how is that dog in here, why is this happening, where are the beers. Then I asked the Badger if he felt bad for telling the Gray Badger and the local superintendent of schools that McGee’s would be mellow on a Tuesday night. The Badger said:
The moral of the story is next time you tell everyone a bar will be fine and it sucks don’t worry about it too much, because the Badger would never worry about such a thing. Look, he told the local superintendent of schools and the Gray Badger what he thought McGee’s would be like, and it was not that way.
He’s just a Badger.
It is hard to imagine the Badger thirty years from now, being a gray badger.
