Dale Chumbley, Realtor® in Clark County, Washington and winner of Ooligan Press book.
He can say, he knew me when…
Many moons ago, when we were both cute young things, Dale and I worked together at a media company, a behemoth news giant in all of Southwest Washington. I thought I was important and gave him orders. He thought I knew what I was doing and followed them exactly and tootled around the county in a little white car to accommodate my many pick-up and delivery demands. Occasionally, he took a break from my sweet requests and drove the boss’ Jaguar, but that was only for very specific and important company business: a quick swish through the car wash.
At the time, enamored by his smile, I scoured fading memory banks to decipher why—when I gazed into his bright blue eyes that not only made you warm and fuzzy, but made you want to give him a big sister squeeze—each encounter with Dale left me hungry. For food. Peanut butter and jelly to be exact.
The mystery erupted to the surface in startling fashion—Sunny Jim bounced out of obscurity. He smiled from his position as the heavily promoted advertising icon of a Seattle peanut butter empire that made its first entrance at Pike Place Market. My dad grew up on that stuff, it was pumping through my veins when I was born, until he entered kindergarten that is ALL my real-little-brother ate, and I’m only slightly exaggerating.
Dale wasn’t interested in spreading peanut butter stories through our department and tried to convince me he was far short of wholesome, in fact, he claimed to have been a goth teen. He swore he left for high-school looking like a regular guy, changed clothes along the way, and showed up looking more like this… –>
[Photo provided by Dale Chumbley].
I have avoided Dale’s mum, Tracy Chumbley also a Realtor®, ever since that revelation. I’m such a tattle-tale, I feared I would disclose Dale’s sordid past and ruin her pristine image of such a fine-upstanding son, because surely she was as worried as the rest of us about that other son, Darin, who did not delight in college but ran away to sing and dance in New York. It turned out okay, Darin danced his way into the heart of a beautiful girl and they now live within a block of Times Square, which offers plenty of fodder for his photography career.
“Hey Tracy, maybe now that I’m a mom, you can give me some ADVICE: my kid has a wild streak. Blond. Right down the middle of her pitch black hair. HALP.”
So, in keeping with the Monday Spirit, its all about ME, I just wanted to have the final say, and announce, “Dale, I enjoy reading your blog, Clark County Real Estate Guide, it reminds me of home. I feel very grateful you allowed me to treat you to coffee the other day and deliver your copy of the RETHINKING PAPER & INK. I’m thinking I ought to have more contests, I find the best people!”
“Finally, it will NOT be ten years before we meet up again, okay? (And yes I’m lying about how long it’s really been). Because, soon, very soon, we will be celebrating Bridget Chumbley and the publication of her first young adult novel. That’s a promise!”