Jocko

This is a picture of Jocko.  He was my daughter's constant companion when it was bedtime until she was married.  Why did she love that monkey so much?  My daddy gave it to her.  Everyone who knew my daughter knew about Jocko.  You could touch any other doll in her room....any other stuffed animal....you could throw them around, but if you dared to mistreat Jocko in any way, you were read the riot act!!!  He was her first and only monkey.  She, however, was not his first owner.

You might ask where he came from.....or you might not, because you really might not care.  However, if you keep reading this post, you are going to find out.  It was probably the year 1967.....I was 12, and my brother was 14.  It so happened that one of the traveling carnivals came to town....but this carnival was a little different because it was being sponsored by one of the civic clubs in town.  This meant that you wouldn't waste quite so much money should you decide to try your luck, or for that matter, your skill, at one of the many games on the fairway. For some reason, my dad always liked to take my brother to these and leave me at home.  I need to do some soul searching to see if I can figure out why.....maybe I asked for too much.....maybe I whined too much.....maybe I complained too much.  I don't remember, but whatever the reason was, I was not invited to this particular "guys night out". 

It seemed that while at the carnival, my brother talked my dad into letting him try out his skill at knocking bottles over with a ball (or something to that effect), or maybe even it was the other way around....possibly my dad talked my brother into trying his arm out....whatever the case, my brother threw the ball, not my dad.  Now, at 14, my brother was still a shrimp.  He didn't really have a big growing spurt until he was 16.  He drove his own car at 14 because WAY back then in 1967, a 14 year old could still get a driver's lisence (that just makes me gasp when I think about 14 year olds out on the highway!!!).  My brother's first car was some big old red car that the doors wouldn't stay shut. He had to tie the doors together with rope  in the middle so they wouldn't fly open when you turned the corner ( I guess they didn't inspect cars back then???).  My brother was so short (how short was he?), he had to sit on 2 pillows just to see over the dash.  I guess he could have used a booster seat, but they didn't make them back then.  Pretty funny now when I think back on it.  Anyway, I kind of got off the subject here.  The reason I told you all of this is to show how small my big brother was.    Now, I am sure the guy behind the ball throwing tent didn't think my brother was big enough to knock those bottles over.   For each time that you knocked the balls over, you won a prize.  My brother knocked them over so many times, they finally asked him to please quit playing the game.  He was going to shut them down. I'm sure the carnival guy was shocked at my brother's  ability to throw that ball!  He showed up at home with a car load of stuffed animals, one of which was this stuffed monkey that my dad named Jocko.

My mom actually let Jocko sit on her bed everyday for years, decorating her pillows with such glamour.  One day, we were honored with the visit of my little cousin, Sheila, who was just  a little  bitty girl.....maybe 3 years old.  We were big enough that there weren't any toys around anymore, and she was bored, so we got Jocko for her to play with.  She loved him, but most of all, she loved his banana, and half-way chewed it off.  Maybe she thought it was a real banana.  I'm not sure.  Jocko must have loved having the attention of a little girl because when my daughter was just about 3, she wanted to play with him, too.  I think Jocko must have been smiling at her, beckoning her to come and play.  Of course when it was time for us to go home, my daughter didn't want to give Jocko up....and Jocko didn't want to go back to sitting on pillows for the rest of his life.  So, after much crying and pleading, Jocko was allowed to go home with my daughter.  This was the beginning of a (so far) 33 year relationship. 

Yes, she still has Jocko.  He no longer sleeps with her, which is terribly sad to me.  He does have a shelf in her closet that is reserved for him.  He has become frail in his old age, and his fur is very thin....the banana split in two, and one half is shoved inside the other half. The yellow fur almost has turned grey it's lost so much of it's color.  His tiny white sneakers are no longer white, but instead are a dingy grey.....but, his smile is still there on his little face....and he could still charm a little three year old girl. This has got to have been the best value for a dollar that my dad ever spent!  (and my daughter sure is  glad my brother had a winning streak that night!)