whatareyouthinking

A kind, old man spoke to his grandson’s attentive eyes saying, “Son…do you want to know what lurks behind all the evil in this world?”

“Tell me!” The child requested.

“The answer is right under your nose…mustaches.” The grandfather stated with authority,  “Men with mustaches!”

“But I know lots of nice people with mustaches,” the boy replied.

“Oh, that’s what you think young man, but don’t let the hairy lip deceive you! Behind every mustache is a member of a very secret society.  They recognize each other on the street by their mustache,” his grandfather continued.

“But Uncle Frank has a mustache, and he’s not a member of any secret society,” the boy noted.   

“They do not reveal their secret to anyone—not even their own family,” retorted the grandfather.

“But what about some people I know, like my teacher, who grew a mustache for a while and then shaved it off?”  The boy inquired.

“Everyone dabbles in evil from time to time my friend.  The Mustache Conspirators will not let anyone talk about their experiences once they leave the society, lest their tongues face the same fate their former mustaches did,” his grandfather answered.

“But I saw two men fighting with each other at the gas pumps the other day and both had mustaches!  If this is a secret brotherhood, why would they fight amongst each other?” quizzed the grandson.

“They do that so you won’t even suspect they’re in cahoots—but they are!  It is not unlike them to use such tactics in order to convince people that men with mustaches are not plotting evil together.  They want to make those of us that are on to them look like fools,” the old man responded.

“What kind of evil are these mustached men responsible for?” probed the boy.

“Every evil that has taken place—or will take place—under the sun!  From the atrocities of Hitler to the assassination of JFK.  If you pay attention…If you look around…Every perpetrated evil—is linked, either directly or indirectly, to a man sporting a mustache,” his grandfather assured him.

Tripp is a recurring character of many stories on this site.  By now, one of my readers (who doesn’t already know) is bound to be somewhat curious about him.  Who is Tripp Walkup?  

The name is a result of two separate customer records that flashed upon my screen while working in a call center back in 1996.  A name hybrid, if you will.  And I have been getting a lot of mileage from it.  It just so happened that one customer had the first name of Tripp, a very unusual name I thought.  Another customer had the last name of Walkup.  Another strange name.  I put the two together and gave birth to Tripp Walkup.  

Repeat the full name aloud or silently to yourself enough times and it will make sense to you.  Tripp, Walkup, Tripp, Walkup, Tripp, Walkup…  

Now think of Tripp like “trip” — the frequent precursor to a fall.  Think of Walkup as in getting back on one’s feet after a fall.  The name itself connotes a perpetual stumbling block; a life of ups and downs. And Tripp is often a stumbling block — to himself.

Although Tripp is a fictitious character, the stories are true.  And some of them may have even taken place. 

Tripp and his wife were sitting outside when Tripp pointed to an injured cat.  The cat was almost lifeless as it lay in their yard near the curb of the road.  They also noticed another cat passing by, paying no attention to the injured cat.

Tripp turned to his wife and said, “you think that other cat would have stopped to help.”