Uncle Fletcher

And the song he forced kids to sing

Uncle Fletcher is a jolly old soul, a jolly old soul is he.

That is what all the boys and girls, nieces and nephews, grand-nieces and grand-nephews were singing. It’s the first line of the Uncle Fletcher Song, the song Uncle Fletcher made all the kids sing together to him before he would play with anyone.

Uncle Fletcher threw a big party at his house on the first day of summer every year. Attendance was usually around 47, depending on whether or not Beth and Cody came to town, and they were all related by either blood or marriage.

During his party Uncle Fletcher completely ignored all the adults, letting them have their own party. Uncle Fletcher spent all his time with the children…

…and there were 17 of them!

The second line of the Uncle Fletcher Song:

Uncle Fletcher never stops playing, oh fiddly dee dee.

It was Uncle Fletcher who taught the song to all the kids. He grilled them until every one of them knew all the words to the song by heart. If anyone wanted anything from Uncle Fletcher they had to sing the song first.

(Author’s note: I’m going to throw a lot of names at you in short order. DO NOT try to remember any of them. Just let them flow gently through your mind without thinking about them. The only name you have to remember is Uncle Fletcher.)

With all the windows and sliding glass doors open, the kids and Uncle Fletcher were out on the covered patio. They were singing the Uncle Fletcher Song so they were surely about to begin a game.

In the kitchen inside there were several adults, mostly female, tending to food and drinks. Angela, who was married to Denny and was the mother of Meredith, Franklin, Joseph, and little Lizzie, went over to the stove where Rebecca, wife of Jackson and mother of Samuel, Sienna, and Susette, was stirring a humongous pot of beans.

Under her breath, Angela said to Rebecca, “I guess every family’s gotta have one weirdo.”

Uncle Fletcher’s single cousin Glenda was pulling fried chicken out of the deep fryer. She had heard Angela, “Well, I think your kids are lucky to have an Uncle Fletcher — someone who teaches them and plays with them at the same time.”

“And shows them how strange an adult can be,” said Gloria, wife of Big Billy and mother of Jenna and Little Billy, who had just slid a tray of buns in the oven. What the people in the kitchen did not know — and wouldn’t know until the announcement later in the evening — is that Gloria had a bun of her own in her own oven. Next year the party’s attendance would be 48.

The third line of the Uncle Fletcher Song:

Even when you’re an adult, always be a child

Uncle Fletcher’s older brother Uncle Langley came into the kitchen, “So the kids are singing. I wonder what game my idiot brother is about to start. Perhaps Ten Minute Masterpiece?”

“No, I think it’s the Map Game,” said Rebecca, who was still stirring beans.

“Oh, dear lord!” Uncle Langley slapped his forehead. “You gals know, don’t ya, that I was your Uncle Fletcher’s first victim.”

“We know,” said four or five women.

“Well, gosh darn it, I’m two years older than him. Back in school he kept tryin’ to give me Geography tests. He just wouldn’t stop. Every time I turned around he was asking me some Geography question. He finally wore me down and I started taking his Geography classes and taking the quizzes. You shoulda seen our room growing up. Every inch of wall was covered by a map. And he had this huge globe he was always spinning. He was the weirdest younger brother a boy could have… I have to admit, though, that I know a lot more Geography than most people my age because of him. And those kids out there are gonna know even more than me.”

Langley continued, much to the chagrin of a few people in the room, “Fletcher would say to me, ‘Come here, I wanna show you something.’ He would go to one of the maps on the wall and point to a certain spot on the map. Then he would begin telling me some cockamamie, crazy-ass story and he would move his finger on the map in accordance with the story — and the stories were always about going from one place to another.”

“So, with my eyes, I followed his finger on the map as it moved all over the map. Sometimes the stories would be based on actual history and he would tell me all these facts about certain cities and towns. Most of the time it was just some story he made up. Off-the-wall weirdo stuff that usually made no sense. But you know what?”

The room fell silent.

“After you listen to one of his stupid stories you might be confused but you will remember for the rest of your life what the capital of North Dakota is.”

A restrained laughter broke out among the kitchen people and numerous pairs of eyes rolled.

With one eye on the oven timer and one eye on Uncle Langley, Gloria spoke up, “The last time I heard that story, Uncle Langley, you ended it up with the capital of Minnesota.”

“Hey, I’ve got to break things up. After all, we’ve got 50 state capitals to remember.”

Tanya, granddaughter of Langley, wife of Sherman, mother of Kelsey, Cotton, Frieda, and Clint, suddenly appeared with a green bean casserole in her mittened hands, “Well, I know every state capital in the country, I know every state bird, every state flower, every state tree. I don’t see how anyone in this extended family can possibly grow up without knowing those things. And it’s all because of your… your… your, uh… my delightful Uncle Fletcher.”

The next line in the Uncle Fletcher Song:

Don’t be normal; let yourself go wild

For those unfamiliar with The Map Game, it is played on Uncle Fletcher’s covered patio in front of a wall-sized map of America (Alaska and Hawaii being in little boxes at the far left bottom of the map). Being quasi-outdoors, it was laminated for its protection. Every single human under the age of 18 in the extended family was a contestant in the game whether they wanted to be or not. Every contestant was given a little plastic flag with a mild adhesive on the bottom of the flag.

With a screwdriver, handle up, in his right hand (a pretend microphone) and a stopwatch in his left hand, Uncle Fletcher would call out to all 17 family members under the age of 18, “Contestants, take your places. You will come up to that mark on the floor over there one at a time, youngest to oldest. You will get a brief chance to look at the map on the wall and then you will be blindfolded!”

This was usually followed by a subdued collective gasp.

“And then my dear contestants I will either ask you a question or simply state the name of a town or city. Your blindfold will be removed at which time I will start my stopwatch. Then you must go up to the map and stick your flag on the location that is the answer to the question or the city or town I say. The ones who find the correct place on the map and plant their flags the fastest wins.”

Of course, Uncle Fletcher didn’t think it was cool to have six-year-olds compete against know-it-all seventeen-year-olds so he divided the progeny into age levels. There was the four to eight year old division, the nine to twelve year old division, and the thirteen to eighteen year old division.

And then there was the grand prize.

Now you may wonder why any human being under the age of eighteen would willingly, in their right mind, want to play this stupid game. The answer is that Uncle Fletcher gave a prize of ten dollars to the winner of each age category and a fifty dollar grand prize to the overall winner.

First, all the category winners were ceremoniously announced on the screwdriver and then the potential grand prize winner. After those prizes were handed out then the winner of any age category could challenge the potential grand prize winner to a duel.

The winner of the duel challenge was then the official grand prize winner. The loser of the duel was then left with only their category prize.

The competition was fierce. Children studied their geography with great zeal. The older ones weren’t into it as much as the younger ones but they had the knowledge instilled from many previous Map Games.

For the last three years it was never the oldest age group that won. It was always a younger age group that challenged them. No one knows exactly how they invested their money.

The next line from the Uncle Fletcher Song:

Never stop playing and never stop learning

“Does anyone know how long The Map Game lasts?” asked Gloria, one of her eyes still on the oven timer.

“It usually lasts thirty to forty minutes,” said Melissa, wife of Glenn and mother of Phillip, Pamela, and Patricia and aunt to Meredith, Franklin, Joseph, Little Lizzie, Samuel, Sienna, Susette, Jenna, and Little Billy.”

“That’s perfect,” said Glenda, who had no children. “Dinner will be ready for the seventh inning stretch. Folks, it’s almost time for everyone to realize that my fried chicken is even better than the Colonel’s.”

No one disagreed.

A silence filled the kitchen as best as it could. Everyone was thinking about their own experiences with The Map Game. Everyone in the family had played it — whether they wanted to or not. Everyone had been winners and everyone had been losers. Everyone had some money in the bank.

But not everyone had won those elusive fifty bucks.

And so the game continued. Winners from years past became heroes. Certain family members were forgotten. Each year everything changed a little.

The maps peeled off the walls, the geography lists migrated to phones, the official state birds became mystical creatures no one had seen and the prize money became chronologically lame.

But the family stayed together…

…at least until Uncle Fletcher kicked the bucket.

Then everything changed… There were no longer any first day of summer parties and there was no longer a family weirdo…

…that is until Little Billy got older.

The last line of the Uncle Fletcher Song:

Like your Uncle Fletcher, keep the fires burning

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. All graphics from Pixabay. Writings of White Feather Index

Another story about a weirdo:

(Author’s note: For those who would like to see the lyrics to the Uncle Fletcher Song all together in one place — and possibly learn it — here they are below:)

Uncle Fletcher is a jolly old soul, a jolly old soul is he. Uncle Fletcher never stops playing, oh fiddly dee dee. Even when you’re an adult, always be a child Don’t be normal; let yourself go wild Never stop playing and never stop learning Like your Uncle Fletcher, keep the fires burning