My friend, Billy, recently told me about one of his favorite childhood memories. Billy's mother would task him and his father with gathering wild blackberries for her homemade blackberry pie.
Billy's dad would pull out his motorcycle and head to the bottoms of El Dorado, Ark., in the Hibanks area. Billy was too small to ride on the back of the seat, so his father placed his young son directly on the gas tank of the vehicle, and off they went in search of sweet treasure.
Over time, they had found the perfect place to gather the delicious treats. At their secret trove, they would work together to pick enough blackberries to fill a large bowl, while probably eating as much as they had gathered. Once the bowl was full, they would hop back onto the motorcycle and head home. It's a little-known secret, however, that wild blackberries make for good eating on motorcycle trips, too.
By the time they got back home, the two had consumed roughly half the contents of the bowl. Billy's mother would always scold them for eating all the blackberries, but Billy and his father would only smile at each other and blame their indulgence on the tasty, wild fruit.
"Taste one," they'd say, "and see how good they are."
Although their excursions were always fun and the berries were always good, there was a price to be paid. Blackberries, being a high-fiber fruit, have a rather special effect on the body. Billy knew that the pressure and rumbling in his tummy could only mean one thing, but he was all too happy to deal with these consequences. Even though both Billy and his father could expect to be spending a little more time in the bathroom afterward, they relished their time picking and eating blackberries together.
"They were the best days of my life," Billy told me.
Billy's story made me think of the times in our lives when the cost of a good indulgence pales in comparison to the reward of the experience.
When I was a kid, I could spend all of a summer day in the neighborhood swimming pool. I'd emerge exhausted with prune-like skin and saunter home to rest; for tomorrow promised a new day of aquatic adventures, and I dared not miss out on them. We've all had late nights out with friends and suffered because we had to get up early the next day. But given the chance, we'd do it again because of the wonderful memories we made. A late night spent with good friends is never wasted.
Editorial on 11/30/2016