It's all about the Myth

One of the many amazing things about Matt was his connection to the unusual. Our friend Bethie always said she didn’t want to go to Scotland unless it was with Matt. If he was there, Nessie would surely make an indisputable appearance. One of his dreams had been to travel Europe and hit the places his favorite writers loved. I imagine him coming home with stories of Baba Yaga wandering some Eastern European street in her chicken-legged hut, being chased by redcaps through the Scottish moors or seduced by a Lorelei along the German Rhine.

This was one of the things that made Matt a brilliant storyteller; he saw past the veil and experienced the universe in a way few people get to. A true shaman. In recognition of the 2nd anniversary of his passing and to celebrate another piece of his mythical life, I present two of my favorite Matt Myths.

I love you, bud.




Kick the Can

Around the age of 10, Matt was playing a game of kick-the-can with other kids in his neighborhood. If you’re not familiar with the game, it’s a bit like hide-and-seek except in the center of the play area there is a can. The person who is ‘It’ tags hiders, just like hide-and-seek, but instead of being out the hiders are sent to a holding area. If any of the un-tagged players are able to get to the can and kick it they set the others free. One of the rules of Matt’s neighborhood put a particular yard off limits after dark. The house bordered on a thick forest and didn’t have any lights in the back so in addition to being an unfair place to hide there were safety issues.

Matt happened to be ‘It’ that night and had tagged everyone but one elusive kid he liked to call “Boo Radley.” This kid was good. Ninja good. So good, in fact, he was sometimes accused of cheating. So when Matt couldn’t find him he thought the only place he could possibly be hiding was off-limits. The yard was relatively far from the can, but there was only one way in or out, so if Matt was right “Boo” wouldn’t be able to reach the can without getting tagged.

The yard was empty except for a single large bush between the back of the house and the forest’s edge. Matt crept up to the bush, keeping his eye on the woods in case “Boo” had been hiding there instead and made a break for the exit but everything was still. Not even the kids in holding back on the street were saying anything. When he'd gotten a few feet from the bush he heard the kids start screaming. “Go, Boo!”, “Get it!”, “Woohoo!”, followed by the sound of a can being kicked and kids scattering around the neighborhood.

I think it was the ringing of the can across the asphalt that triggered the movement he saw out the corner of his eye. You see, there’d never been a bush in that yard. When Matt remembered this subtle but important fact, the bush stood up on two legs, starred down at him with dark red eyes, then lumbered across the yard to fade into the woods. Matt, meanwhile, pee’d himself and fainted.

The kids found him eventually. I can picture Matt the Elder finding a way to explain how lying in the grass with urine down your leg was the new "In Thing", making every kid envious, but Matt the Younger hadn't developed that bit of brilliance yet. I can't remember if he tried to tell the other kids what he saw. In my own mind I picture him wandering home, keeping what he saw to himself.

I grew up in bigfoot country. There have even been sightings not five miles from the house I grew up in. I still hadn't been much of a believer until Matt told me this story. Even as an adult I could see the belief behind his eyes.


Turkey Gargling Rocks

Sometime around 2003 Matt won a cruise to Alaska. He liked traveling, or the idea of it anyway, but being on a boat for a week with a bunch of strangers wasn’t really his thing. Hoping to get off the boat and into the wilderness a bit, he signed up for a horseback tour. They rode along mountain trails and stopped at a river where bears were sometimes seen (a story to be published eventually in "Matt Welty's Animal Tales"). The tour consisted of a guide in the front and a line of cruisers on horseback, followed by a guide in the rear to make sure no one lagged behind. On the return trip, Matt was second in line, directly behind the front guide.

The guide was describing how the stunning geology of Alaska was formed when a howl tore across the forest from the mountains. When ever he told the story, Matt did a hilarious and disturbing imitation I can try to duplicate in person, but the best verbal description he could come up with was a man’s scream infected by the sound of a turkey gargling rocks. The entire line of tourists stopped and the tour guide straightened in his saddle. The sound had raked up everyone’s spine. After a few breaths Matt heard the guide’s radio crackle and the low voice of some other tour’s guide creep out. “Did anyone else hear that?” Matt was the only cruiser close enough to make out the call. His guide didn’t answer.

“What the hell was that?” asked one of Matt’s group.

“Uh, that was a coyote,” the guide replied. “The mountains do strange things to sounds out here.”

I’m from Orange County, dude, Matt thought. That was NOT a coyote.

Back at the boat landing the group gathered for followup questions and once again the question was asked about what the sound was. The ranger, powered by the confidence that comes with the passage of time, restated his original theory. "Definitely a coyote."

"Or a Yeti," Matt mumbled, just loud enough for the entire group to hear.

Like many tight-knit groups, phrases appear over the years that make no sense to non-members. Gamers are notorious for it. Matt’s dear friend Pete and I once had a conversation consisting entirely of movie quotes. Yeah, we're Geeks. I’ve been thinking recently about creating a dictionary. If I do, one of the entries will look something like this:

“Or a Yeti.” -- Matt Welty, circa 2003
--a construction used to replace the longer and more cumbersome phrase: “You're an idiot and talking out of your ass.” Commonly heard during management meetings.