COLUMBUS _ "Happy Birthday, Buddy,'' said Uncle Chet as he held the door open.
"Happy birthday,'' said Alice, who was carrying a tossed salad and had a shopping bag dangling from her arm.
"How are you guys?'' said Hon, who was at the stove, stirring chocolate pudding.
"Not bad for a guy with sleep apnea.'' Uncle Chet hung up his coat.
"What's in the bag?'' asked Buddy, who was on the floor, looking at his new Erector set.
"Glad it's the weekend,'' said Alice, who's been toying with the idea of retirement on the brink of 59.
"What's this about sleep apnea?'' I stuffed a large hunk of beech into the wood stove.
"Feels good,'' said Uncle Chet, and came over to warm his hands.
"Have they made a diagnosis?''
"No, but that's what they think it is,'' he said. "They've got to hook you up to electrodes to know for sure.''
"Well, you snore louder than a jet engine.''
``What's in the bag?'' asked the birthday boy as he edged over to us.
"Potatoes,'' said his big sister, who'd just come downstairs.
Buddy grimaced, for this was his least favorite food.
"Buddy made a pig face!'' she announced.
"Be nice,'' I said.
"I think it's something for you,'' Uncle Chet told the 7-year-old, who'd picked up the "Golden Book of Science.''
"Hey, there's an old-timer. May I see that, Buddy?'' he asked.
"From 1956,'' I said.
"A science book from 1956?''
"Sure,'' I said. "I had one when I was Buddy's age, and I've been trying to get him things I used to have.''
"I've been doing that, too,'' said Alice, who'd come into the living room.
"So, does your husband have sleep apnea?'' I asked her.
"I think so. He snores, then he just stops and I'm waiting, waiting, to hear him breathe.''
"He shook the walls down once, when we took a trip to Maryland,'' I recalled.
"I remember that,'' said our 14-year-old. ``Dad ended up sleeping in the basement.''
"I was ready to go to the garage,'' I said.
"You're a quite a freight train, too,'' Hon informed me.
"I've never heard it,'' I said.
"Some nights he's OK,'' said Alice. ``But if he stays up late on the computer, he doesn't sleep well. He snores, sometimes talks, thrashes around and it's like trying to sleep in a bus station.''
"Stay off the computer at night,'' Hon suggested.
"Especially when he looks at politics,'' said Alice.
"What's in the bag?'' asked Buddy.
"How can I stay off the computer?'' said Uncle Chet. ``Every four years, a little bit of the truth leaks out and I search for it, because it gives me at least the illusion of hope.''
"Hope of what?'' I said.
"Economic justice,'' he said. "If we had economic justice, we could handle the rest of our troubles in this country.
"We'd have universal health care, because a prosperous middle class would be too strong for insurance companies to resist. And we wouldn't have phony wars because we'd know that our own boys and girls would be fighting them.
"I think that's what Obama's getting at when he's talking about change,'' said Uncle Chet. "Just as Reagan transformed the economy and gave us trickle-down economics, now we need a coalition of common interest to reverse the flow.''
"I think Hillary's saying that, too,'' said Alice.
"She was a Wal-Mart lawyer when he was a community organizer and civil rights lawyer,'' said Uncle Chet. "Now who's the more natural choice to represent the worker bees?''
"I'll think about that,'' said Alice as she knelt down to Buddy and gave him the bag.
He pulled out a stack of six colorful wooden squares, bound by green ribbons on both sides. As he held it up, the squares reversed and cascaded down.
"I like that!'' his sister's hand shot out like a frog's tongue.
"Jacob's ladder,'' said Hon.
"I had one when I was little,'' Alice said, glancing at me, "and that must be why I got it.''
___
Cooperstown News Bureau Reporter Tom Grace is traveling with his Uncle Chet, who he says is imaginary. Grace's column appears every other week.
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