My good friend Bubba
One day I decided I needed a scarecrow for my garden so I dug out an old pair of jeans, and old flannel shirt and a tee shirt. I found some foam for stuffing and began to sew. When I had the jeans and shirt stuffed and attached to each other, I made a head out of the tee shirt stuffed with more foam and sewed it to the collar of the shirt. I cut a few short pieces off a 2×4 to attach hands and feet to the arms and legs. I stuck the boards into the arms and legs and attached them to the shirt and jeans. I added gloves to the ends of the arms and old sneakers to the ends of the legs. I added an old ball cap, but still something was missing—the creation needed a face. I got a permanent marker and made eyes with brows, a nose and a mouth. I also drew ears on each side.
The new scarecrow didn’t scare a single bird away from my garden that I could tell. I guess he was just a little too good looking. After all, he looked a lot like me. He was wearing my old clothes and he was about my size. After the garden was finished, I couldn’t toss him into the trash and decided to move the fella to the porch. I placed him in my glider, got a chair to prop up his feet and placed his arms in a leisurely position. Up to this point, I had not named the scarecrow, but finally decided that Bubba was a fitting moniker.
Bubba remained on the back porch for a few years and I talked to him frequently every time I crossed his path. He became a friendly face to talk to after my divorce. He always had a smile and I never heard a cross word from him. I lived alone during this time and he was a good listener when I needed someone to talk to.
There came a time when I no longer needed Bubba to keep me company. This was after I met Ellen. One Halloween I decided to string Bubba up in front of the house. I got a rope and a folding chair and took Bubba to the front driveway. A few days before Halloween, I placed Bubba where he could be easily seen from the road into the property. I placed him in the center of the driveway to look as if he had hung himself.
Out here in the country, not many people would see Bubba, but as luck would have it, a group of illegal aliens happened along late one night with cops in tow. After the cops had rounded up most of the illegals, the paddy wagon arrived and loaded up the men and women to take them to the local county lockdown. The female cop driving the paddy wagon used my driveway to turn around, and when she did, her headlights shined on Bubba and she saw him hanging from a tree. I got a good laugh out of that. I talked to her a couple years later, and she still remembered me well due to her encounter with Bubba. Bubba is still a vibrant memory for me and a household name around here.