Boaz Bloom and Tumble-Down Row, Part One

October 30, 2007, 12:00 am; posted by
Filed under Articles, Featured, Job  | 4 Comments

The last from the Best of Job…

So I’m gonna tell you the story about Boaz Bloom and my run-ins with him down on Tumble-Down Row. If you know me, chances are good you’ve heard me tell bits and pieces about that summer, and a few anecdotes about Boaz, but I’ve never written it all down, or shared the entire story with anyone.

Well, there was Laura, that one day on Zuma Beach, but I don’t think she was really listening.

But buyer beware, this story does not house a happy ending. I won’t spring it on you, or try to punch you in the gut, but every time I hear the name “Boaz,” I get a little . . . a little off. But it’s not a name you run into very often, so I think reading this tale is worth the price.

It was 1983 and my Grandmother had died out in Missouri (don’t cry for me…I didn’t know her really). The rest of the family and I went out for the funeral, and during our three days there we proceeded to open a can of worms. Her house had to be sold, but it needed roof work, electrical work, plumbing, and all the things little old ladies learn to cope with. My parents had to get back to New Hampshire and their busy lives post-haste; my two sisters and brother (and their spouses and ratty little children) had come for the free hotel rooms my parents got for them — and I had only been home a week from my sophomore year in college, anxious to work at the ice cream shop again, to make out with Kim under the bleachers at the state fairgrounds, blah blah blah.

None of us wanted to be in Missouri.

My family is like water that boils towards the edges of the pot . . . we stick to a coast somewhere, either end of the union. That was where my Grandmother got abandoned, I guess. She loved Chap, Missouri to death, and she just wouldn’t boil away with the rest of her blood to California, South Carolina or New Hampshire.

“He’s a good Chap,” said her brick in the town hall mural. They were raising money to clean up some oil spill or something, so they auctioned off bricks. I liked her handwriting.

Eyes fell to me. My family is not all that tight, but we’re capable and know each other pretty well, based purely on intelligence. My Dad wasted no time in telling me I would stay in Chap to tidy things up — but he was just as quick to make the deal sweet for me, so I wouldn’t blow my stack. In exchange for serving (and eating) ice cream all summer, giving up the smell of Kim Cord’s hair, and forfeiting long days at the beach, I would receive a brand-new car when I got home — from the proceeds of the sale of my Grandmother’s house.

I was in. Chap, Missouri, God rest her soul, was a hole — but I was in.



4 Comments to “Boaz Bloom and Tumble-Down Row, Part One”

  1. David on November 1st, 2007 9:01 am

    I hope you aren’t going to leave us hanging too long now that you have us hooked.

  2. Steve on November 1st, 2007 9:15 am

    You can blame me for the delay, which will be one week!

  3. Boaz Bloom and Tumble-Down Row, Part Two : Bweinh! on November 6th, 2007 11:01 am

    […] The last of the Best of Job, continued. Part one is here. […]

  4. Boaz Bloom and Tumble-Down Row, Part Three : Bweinh! on November 13th, 2007 10:35 am

    […] last of the Best of Job, continued. Lost? Read part one and part […]

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