That Snows the Goat

I was talking to my brother last night and he was telling me about the soldering gear they have at his workplace. He works in electronics, and was getting his shop squared away when he discovered a can of flux labeled “not for use on electronic equipment.” That got us talking about being taught to solder by our father. I’m not going into that process, because that’s not the primary point.

I told him about something I used to do that bugged Pop no end. He’d be soldering and when he would put down the iron to make some adjustment, and I’d pick it up and take the hot tip of the iron and dip it into the flux. I’d move it around until the entire surface was molten, and once it cooled it was as smooth as a new can.

As soon as I started to describe what I did, my brother interrupted and said “You used to melt the flux so it would be smooth, didn’t you? I did that, too.” We are twelve years apart, and until last night I never knew he did that same childish prank. The difference in our ages most of our lives was so great that when I returned from Vietnam, the comment he made was, “That man’s back.”

It was strange to peek into his childhood, and see myself.