"I Smoke!!!"

I recently observed my nine-year-old granddaughter flaunting her superior lifestyle before her six-year old younger brother with such arrogance and pride that I couldn't help but be reminded of a story my mother used to tell us on many occasions.

First the conversation between the Grandchildren:
Granddaughter (who had spent the night before and the whole day with her older girl cousins): "I had lunch at the Aloha Kitchen."
Grandson (who had spent the night and the day with his assertive three year-old brother): No response, ignoring the taunting with manly resolve.
Granddaughter, after a resonable passage of time: "What did you have for lunch?"
Grandson: No response, though clearly annoyed.
Granddaughter, not to be ignored: "What did you have for lunch? I went to the Aloha Kitchen and had saimin."
Grandson, giving in, while crossing his eyes in disgust: "I had a boring sandwich!''

Now the story of which I was reminded:

My mother grew up on the shores of Bear Lake which straddles the border of Utah and Idaho. This was an pleasant rural setting where the small local population struggled through a short growing season the sustain their lives. The settlement was not very old when my mother lived there as a girl, and everyone knew each other. Among the gathering places frequented by the locals was Jesse Cotter's General Store. Mother described the large cast-iron stove in the middle of the store which was the the only thing that could tear a child away from browsing the nooks and crannies of the store. Loitering in the store in the winter around the stove was a common thing to do.
Meantime the allure of fun on the shores of the Bear Lake brought "City Slickers" from Salt Lake City who would arrive and stay at the newly built Lakota resort. They brought with them the curious arrogance common those who live in large cities. One group of such young men dared to saunter into Jesse Cotter's General Store. Surveying the pitiful gathering around the stove, one young man asked Jesse about buying cigarettes, announcing disdainfully to the locals, "I smoke." Unimpressed and chaffing at the arrogance, one of the farmers spat on the cast iron stove and said, "So does a dog turd on a cold morning."

One always wants to have a snappy response to annoying arrogance. I always imagine being there that day when the smooth-faced, arrogant swell tells the hard-scrabble, scruffy farmers "I smoke." I want to see his face as he hears the "dog-turd" response. I want to hear all the locals laugh in appreciation. I also want to say that to all arrogant, insufferable people who taunt and annoy with their presumed superiority based on where they live, where they have been or where they ate lunch "So does a dog turd... "

I must tell this story to my grandson someday when he's older, and it's ok for him to hear words like "turd" though I must say that I did find the crossed-eyes and the "boring sandwich" response to be quite hilarious.