Lynn's Comments: Alan might kill me for this, but as a little kid, he DID carry around a blanket. Actually, it was my blue chenille bedspread, which he inherited when the corners became twisted and grey. When it started to rot, Mom cut it up into smaller pieces so he'd have even more corners to chew on. By the time these pieces deteriorated, he was old enough to go to Beaver camp (junior Scouts in Canada), and Dad suggested he have a ceremonial blankie burning in the fireplace. Alan stuffed his remaining blankies into a shoebox. Dad put lighter fluid over the contents, made a hole in the lid, pulled out a wick of blankie, and the solemn ceremony took place. Al, with sadness and stoicism, sat and watched the box burn to ashes as Dad sat beside him with his arm around his shoulder. It was a coming of age for my brother and a time when Dad proved, beyond a doubt, that he understood kids better than anybody we knew!
