Bobcat (or "Sticky Feet")
From: "settummanque, the blackeagle" (Mike Walton)
Via: Steve Tobin / Scouts-L Youth Programs Discussion List
Date: 3 Mar 1994
Yeah, it's long but I thought with the past month's Cub Scout
theme "Cub Scout Traditions", I would share the story
that I've told groups of Cub Scouts last month during their Blue
and Gold banquets. So...
(extracted from "Patches and Pins (or the quest for Silver
Animals and other assorted crap)", written by Mike L. Walton
© 1988 )
BOBCAT
A small, metal pin about the size and diameter of a penny sits
on my desk back home. I chose to keep that pin-not the original
one, but a "copy"-to constantly remind me of my obligation
to "do your best" in every task that I did. On the pin,
bronze in color, appears a wicked- looking bobcat. No one ever
told me why the bobcat was chosen as a beginning badge, other
than it had something to do with Rudyard Kipling's story of wolves
and their families.
It also serves as another one of those things sociologists and
psychologists and communicatogists and all of those other "-logists"
call a "rite of passage". Simply put, it's an initiation
tool. Now I've been initiated several times since then in other
ways other than the presentation of a pin.
The most important of all of those initiations, however, was my
birth. An initiation into the Earth.
***************
When I was six years old, my family - my mother, myself and my
younger brother Shell - lived with my mom's sister and her family
in Chicago's South side. My mother was scared (she told me much
later); her husband went as many other military men and women
did, to fight the latest of America's wars, this one in Vietnam.
She moved us all to Chicago because each night, there was nothing
but bad news on the TV news and she wanted to be close to family
in case...in case. I looked at all of this as an adventure! I
walked to my first grade class two blocks from their home. And
snow or rain, sunny or cloudy, came home in time to watch the
afternoon cartoons and the Bozo show.
On one afternoon in the spring, I was playing on the landing of
the apartment, when I looked over the edge and saw a woman with
several kids walking through the alleyway. I've seen people walk
through the alleys-bums looking for something to sell in the garbage
cans, teens running from other teens, and the occasional man walking
a dog. But this was different.
The woman, a tall white woman, was wearing a blue hat and a golden
yellow blouse along with a dark blue skirt. With her, her hand
holding one child's hand, were four or five black and white boys,
each wearing a blue uniform with blue pants and gold piping throughout.
Even the hat they wore was blue, with some kind of symbol on the
front and gold piping throughout.
I ran down the stairs, almost tripping at one point, to see these
people up close before they made the corner and go past my "boundaries".
I yelled at them "Hey wait!" and the woman turned, smiled
and waited for me to catch up with them.
"Who are you guys?" I asked, looking at the uniforms
that the boys wore. I thought that maybe they were playing Army.
They had numbers on both sleeves and all kinds of patches and
pins on their shirts.
The woman explained that they were Cub Scouts (I read that from
one of the shirts: Cub Scouts B.S.A) and this was her Den and
they were taking a nature hike.
Then she asked me "Would _you_ like to come along with us?"
I nodded, then I said, I have to ask my mom if I can. Can you
wait?" She said "Hurry!" and before I could hear
anything else I was back to the apartment, and halfway up the
stairs to the house.
Inside, I got my mom to come to the back door and look out at
the assembled group. "Mom, can I go with them? They're doing
a nature something!" She looked outside and saw the group
and asked "Whom are they, Michael?" (I hated when she
called me that!), and I responded "They're Cub Scouts, BSA",
remembering the label on one of those shirts.
"I don't know those people and I don't know about this Club
Scouts. No," she said, shaking her head. Instantly, all of
the energy I ever had went away with every word she spoke. I walked
back to the landing, and yelled "My Mom won't let me. Thank
you for asking me."
The lady waved and yelled "Maybe next time!" and her
and her Den all yelled and waved "Bye!" as they made
their way around the corner and eventually out of my sight. As
I sat there on the landing, I was full of anger. "Why wouldn't
she let me go with them?", "It's bad enough I can't
do anything except go to school and come home!" I didn't
like, let alone love, my mother at that point.
But then, I heard the starting of the Dick Tracy show, and the
disappointment went away. I went back to the television set in
the living area, and sat there watching the show.
Since that day, I pestered and bothered my mother so much that
she said one afternoon, "When your father comes back and
where ever we go to next, if they have Club Scouts, you can join
then. I promise."
Instantly, I loved my mother again. I think that she felt worse
in telling me no than I was in not being able to go with that
Den. I hugged her as I turned to watch Dick Tracy talk into his
watch radio.
***************
The first week we lived in Germany was truly wonderful. For the
first time, I smelled the sweet yucko odor of fertilized land.
Where we lived we were surrounded by farms on two sides, and a
small German village on the other two. Every day to me was a new
adventure, someplace new to ride my bicycle to, someone new to
meet and wave at. I saw a "honey wagon", drank "spruldle
wasser" (which tasted a lot like Sprite or 7Up), and enjoyed
German candies and "gummy baren" (fruit candies shaped
like small bears..I used to stand them up and eat them one at
a time). The school was located in another larger military village
called Pattonville, and classroom instruction including singing
the school's song each morning and learning German from a "real
German woman" each afternoon.
I still saw those blue uniforms and those blue and gold hats and
daydreamed about how much fun it would be to have one. One day,
while using the bathroom, I tried on one of those hats. One of
the boys left it behind and I placed the too-small-sized hat on
my head and looked at myself in the mirror. I said "Keen!"
to myself (Keen was one of those words that I learned later, that
only the Beaver and Eddie Haskell said and that the "current
word" was "cool, man".)
One afternoon, I returned home on our school bus and after going
through the open door to our stairwell, saw a paper sticking out
of the mailbox. It was in every box. I got ours, opened it to
read it and it said more than volumes:
CUB SCOUTS!
JOIN PACK 63 TONIGHT!
7 p.m. BUILDING 1106 ATTIC
The building was right across the street from our building! I
RAN up the four flight of stairs, banged on the door, and after
my mother opened the door, ran to the kitchen holding the notice
in one hand and my satchel in the other, yelling "Mom! Mom!
Look! I can join Cub Scouts!"
Then, realizing that it was my Mom that opened the door, slowly
placed my hands back down and walked back to the door. "Sorry"
I said, "Here." She read the notice, and wiping her
hands on her apron, said "I guess we're going to this meeting
to see about this".
She could not have made me more happier, even if she gave me the
entire Matchbox car collection and storage boxes for all of them!
When my father got home, she told him about the meeting, and together
we all walked over across the street and up into the attic of
the building to the "Club Scout" meeting.
There, they filled out the application and got the cover, which
had instructions on what I needed to do to earn the Bobcat badge.
Beside the illustration of the boy holding his hand in the Cub
Scout sign, were the words I needed to learn in order to know
the Cub Scout Promise, the Law of the Pack and the Cub Scout Motto.
There were also a new set of words: Akela, which means "good
leader" and WEBELOS, which meant "We'll BE Loyal Scouts".
I had to learn all of this and return to the attic in the following
week so that I can be "signed off" on those requirements
and join the Pack.
I took that piece of paper home and memorized every word, every
statement, and even tried to stand like the little white boy in
the illustration. Each night, I would lay in the bottom of the
bunk bed my brother and I shared, raised my feet against the top
part of the rafters that held Shell's mattress in place, and closed
my eyes as I repeated the words of the Cub Scout Promise.
"Get you sticky feet off of the bed! You're making lumps!",
Shell would say. At three years old, Shell couldn't say "stinking",
so it came out "sticky". And that started my modification
of the Cub Scout Promise.
Each successive night, I would raise my "sticky feet"
(instead of raising my hand and arm in the Cub Scout sign...I
knew that whenever I stated the Promise or the Laws I had to use
that sign), and repeat the Promise and the Law of the Pack before
I went to bed. In the morning, I would raise and after my short
prayer, I would do the same thing before getting dressed.
One week later, I went to the Cubmaster before their meeting,
and gave him the piece of paper which served as my temporary membership.
"Okay Mike, are you ready?" I said that I was.
"All right give me the Cub Scout Sign", and instantly
I tried to imitate that kid on the page. I knew this sign because
it looked like the "peace sign" that kids were giving
each other at school.
"Okay.... great...give me the Cub Scout Promise." The
Cubmaster looked at me as I started. In my practice, I created
a sing-song of the Promise: "I, Mike Walton, promise...to
do my best to do my duty.... to God and my country. To be square
(that's what the Promise used to say back then...in 1973, the
words were changed to "to help other people") and to
obey the law of the sticky feet!"
The cubmaster looked at me and said "WHAT!?!" I looked
back at him, slowly putting my hands down, and repeated the same
words.
"Are you getting the Promise and something else mixed up?",
he asked me.
"No. I know that Akela is a good leader and I know that "We'll
BE Loyal Scouts" is WEBELOS. " I used my fingers to
help me remember them by.
"Can you give me the Laws of the Pack, then?", the Cubmaster
smiled. By this time, I _knew_ that I would get my Bobcat badge
that evening. So, with the same enthusiasm that I used to say
the Promise, I once again raised my hand into the "peace
sign", and spoke the words of the Law of the Pack: "The
Cub Scout follows Akela!" and in my mind, I added a "boom";
"The Cub Scout helps the Pack go", and once again in
my mind, I added "boom boom". "The Pack helps the
Cub Scout grow", ("boom boom boom") "The Cub
Scout gives good will". I grinned as I sang them out.
"So what *is* this "sticky feet", then?",
the Cubmaster asked me. Not knowing what it was until then what
I was saying wrong, I slowly dropped my hands and fully embarrassed,
told him how I studied for this "test".
He laughed and said, "Well as long as you remember that it's
the Law of the Pack and not the "sticky feet", that's
fine with me." He signed the form and had me to sign the
Pack's Bobcat book.
At the age of eight, after much discussion, many nights of wondering
and wishing and praying, and after seeing what I wanted 2 years
before, I became initiated again. A new set of learning behaviors
begins. A new set of rules start. Rules I will commit to memory
soon after receiving this button. Rules that took me through life
in ways my parents didn't even imagine. Rules which meshed with
my family's beliefs. Rules that match word-for-word my Savior's
ideas.
That evening, in front of God and everyone in the Ludwigsburg-Aldingen
Cub Scouting community, I was turned upside down by my father
and my mother pinned the bronze Bobcat badge upon my shirt. Then,
turning me right side up, my father placed me back on the floor
and the Cubmaster presented me with the temporary slip of paper
that would be in my Scouting archives until I left for college.
Then, he stated that "You all have to do a good turn for
someone else. Once you did that, you can turn your Bobcat badges
right side up!"
I had been initiated into the Scouting movement. The first of
many such initiations-but the most important, at least for a long
while.
***************
Settummanque!
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