Joe Frazier, the baritone of The Chad Mitchell Trio, was ambling along humming “Queen Eleanor’s Confession” when he fell into the Atlantic Ocean. Well, it wasn’t exactly the ocean. He fell off the boardwalk in Halifax, into the water beside one of those dam ships, Ms Eurodam, and that harbor is sort of part of the ocean.
He was there because The CMT was cruising, along with their fans, from NYC to Quebec City, sitting around singing together each night after supper. It had been a good concert the night before, and now Episcopal priest Joe had ridden the funicular up into the city to visit the cathedral, and now he was feeling pretty good but a little tired, and he saw the bottle, bobbing in the water. It looked like it had a note inside.
Trying to reach the bottle, he fell into the drink. “The Ballad of the Greenland Whalers” came to mind as he grabbed the bottle and paddled his way back to shore. An old lady from the ship reached her walker out to him to pull him in.
He sat on the boardwalk, drying off in the sun, uncorked the bottle, and pulled out the note. It was written on stationery from the Ms Hotdam, a ship of The Ancient Mariner Cruise Line. The ink was runny, but he managed to work it out.
“So that’s why we haven’t heard from anyone from Periwinkle County in so long…” he muttered.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Cruisin'
“We’re going on a cruise!” Claire Nathan exulted to Randall.
Everyone in Periwinkle County takes a vacation together each September. It’s not really a vacation. They go some place to work in the vineyards of the Lord.
In past years they have gone to Saskatchewan to help with the persimmon harvest, or to Florence to restore old paintings with persimmon oil, or to Provence to help with the persimmon stomping.
“How’s going on a cruise going to qualify as working in the vineyards of the Lord?” asked Claire’s husband, The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard).
“We’re going to take persimmon pudding to Mali, so they can have a balanced diet.”
“Hmm… I used to date a girl named Mali,” said Randall.
Their grandchildren, Betsy and Johnny, rolled their eyes. They’ve heard of their grandpa’s old girlfriends before.
“The town council has rented the whole Ms. Hotdam cruise ship from Ancient Mariner Cruise Lines,” said Claire. “The Persimmon Boys are going along to provide music on the cruise. One of them is a preacher now, you know. They call him Pastor Persimmon. Because of Hurricane Hannah off the east coast, they’re going to come right up the Mississippi and pick us up at our landing.”
And it happened. Everyone in Periwinkle County got on Ms. Hotdam.
Ancient Mariner Cruise Lines has no ship to shore communication possibilities, other than messenger albatrosses, so we shall hear no more of the Periwinklians until they return from… oh, wait a minute… that’s not Mali on the destination line… it’s Somalia….
Everyone in Periwinkle County takes a vacation together each September. It’s not really a vacation. They go some place to work in the vineyards of the Lord.
In past years they have gone to Saskatchewan to help with the persimmon harvest, or to Florence to restore old paintings with persimmon oil, or to Provence to help with the persimmon stomping.
“How’s going on a cruise going to qualify as working in the vineyards of the Lord?” asked Claire’s husband, The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard).
“We’re going to take persimmon pudding to Mali, so they can have a balanced diet.”
“Hmm… I used to date a girl named Mali,” said Randall.
Their grandchildren, Betsy and Johnny, rolled their eyes. They’ve heard of their grandpa’s old girlfriends before.
“The town council has rented the whole Ms. Hotdam cruise ship from Ancient Mariner Cruise Lines,” said Claire. “The Persimmon Boys are going along to provide music on the cruise. One of them is a preacher now, you know. They call him Pastor Persimmon. Because of Hurricane Hannah off the east coast, they’re going to come right up the Mississippi and pick us up at our landing.”
And it happened. Everyone in Periwinkle County got on Ms. Hotdam.
Ancient Mariner Cruise Lines has no ship to shore communication possibilities, other than messenger albatrosses, so we shall hear no more of the Periwinklians until they return from… oh, wait a minute… that’s not Mali on the destination line… it’s Somalia….
Thursday, September 2, 2010
A Bad Combination for a Funeral
Ulysses “Dutch” Germany died this week. They held his funeral yesterday afternoon at Waterloo Cemetery. Dutch was a WWII vet, so the VFW was there to give him a rifle salute sendoff.
That is not automatic these days. It was rumored that Dutch had voted for Obama, so there were VFW members who voted against military honors at his funeral. It was Randall Nathan who counted the votes, though, and he claimed the majority was for rifles for Dutch, and no one wanted to argue with a preacher, even a retired one, for fear of being mentioned in a sermon.
All the undertakers had left the county for a conference at Kill Devil Hills, which accorded with their usual good timing according to Jenny Newland, so Jake Newland, retired undertaker, was pressed into service.
Dutch’s wife, Dutchie, wanted a dove release at the end of the service. Jake threw them into the air just as the VFW color guard came out of the beer tent and fired the somewhat raggedy rifle salute.
“Taps” was even more mournful than usual.
That is not automatic these days. It was rumored that Dutch had voted for Obama, so there were VFW members who voted against military honors at his funeral. It was Randall Nathan who counted the votes, though, and he claimed the majority was for rifles for Dutch, and no one wanted to argue with a preacher, even a retired one, for fear of being mentioned in a sermon.
All the undertakers had left the county for a conference at Kill Devil Hills, which accorded with their usual good timing according to Jenny Newland, so Jake Newland, retired undertaker, was pressed into service.
Dutch’s wife, Dutchie, wanted a dove release at the end of the service. Jake threw them into the air just as the VFW color guard came out of the beer tent and fired the somewhat raggedy rifle salute.
“Taps” was even more mournful than usual.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Shingles Applies for a Job
“Clara, back on August 24, you said that Shingles wouldn’t get a job even though there were plenty of jobs available for dogs. But I haven’t seen him around for a while. Did he get a job?”
Jake Newland was sitting on his front porch, splitting a Dreamsicle with three-year-old Clara Wembley, who still has not forgiven Shingles the Dog for stealing her blankie on Christmas eve.
“No, he didn’t get a job. You haven’t seen him because he’s in rehab at the Michelle Bachman Clinic. Cycle problems.”
“Did he have a bicycle accident?”
“No. You know, cycle, like cyclelogical. He flunked the cyclelogical test when he applied for a job at BP.”
“He applied for a job at BP?”
“You need to get your hearing aid batteries replaced, Mr. Jake. Yes. My older brother, Marp, can write, so he wrote a letter to BP and signed Shingles’ name, but I told him what to write. Said Shingles was an oil hound and could clean up oil.”
“That’s not exactly true, Clara.”
“Hey, we’re talking about BP here. Worked great at first. BP did a lot of TV advertising about how they’ve got this new method for cleaning up oil so they don’t have to pay penalties now. Didn’t you see all this on TV?”
“Well, Jennie doesn’t let me watch TV since I sent Glen Beck a gift certificate for a burial plot,” said Jake, the retired undertaker.
Clara said: “That Congress guy from Texas, Joe Barton, said that dog owners should apologize to BP for not sending their dogs earlier. He said dog owners are selfish and spoiled and just want their dogs for themselves when they could be giving them to BP to they could get bigger profits because then there could be enough bonuses to hire more illegal aliens as house slaves and stimulate the economy. But then it all went south when Shingles flunked the cyclelogical exam. He wasn’t conservative enough.”
“The psychological exam for dogs shows if they are conservative or liberal?”
“Well, it surprised me, too. But conservative dogs are exempt from having to get jobs because they are trained to stay home and bark and drown out the president when he’s on TV.”
“When will Shingles be back?” asked Jake.
“I suspect never. Michelle Bachman came to visit and he bit her. Then he bit three nurses.”
“Why would he bite three nurses?”
“Just had to get the taste out of his mouth, I guess.”
Jake Newland was sitting on his front porch, splitting a Dreamsicle with three-year-old Clara Wembley, who still has not forgiven Shingles the Dog for stealing her blankie on Christmas eve.
“No, he didn’t get a job. You haven’t seen him because he’s in rehab at the Michelle Bachman Clinic. Cycle problems.”
“Did he have a bicycle accident?”
“No. You know, cycle, like cyclelogical. He flunked the cyclelogical test when he applied for a job at BP.”
“He applied for a job at BP?”
“You need to get your hearing aid batteries replaced, Mr. Jake. Yes. My older brother, Marp, can write, so he wrote a letter to BP and signed Shingles’ name, but I told him what to write. Said Shingles was an oil hound and could clean up oil.”
“That’s not exactly true, Clara.”
“Hey, we’re talking about BP here. Worked great at first. BP did a lot of TV advertising about how they’ve got this new method for cleaning up oil so they don’t have to pay penalties now. Didn’t you see all this on TV?”
“Well, Jennie doesn’t let me watch TV since I sent Glen Beck a gift certificate for a burial plot,” said Jake, the retired undertaker.
Clara said: “That Congress guy from Texas, Joe Barton, said that dog owners should apologize to BP for not sending their dogs earlier. He said dog owners are selfish and spoiled and just want their dogs for themselves when they could be giving them to BP to they could get bigger profits because then there could be enough bonuses to hire more illegal aliens as house slaves and stimulate the economy. But then it all went south when Shingles flunked the cyclelogical exam. He wasn’t conservative enough.”
“The psychological exam for dogs shows if they are conservative or liberal?”
“Well, it surprised me, too. But conservative dogs are exempt from having to get jobs because they are trained to stay home and bark and drown out the president when he’s on TV.”
“When will Shingles be back?” asked Jake.
“I suspect never. Michelle Bachman came to visit and he bit her. Then he bit three nurses.”
“Why would he bite three nurses?”
“Just had to get the taste out of his mouth, I guess.”
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