Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts

Saturday, October 1, 2016

I Blame Arlo Guthrie: A True Story

Arlo Davy Guthrie (born July 10, 1947), Woody's son, made my teenage years miserable.  Yes.  It is true.

Back in 1967, right about Thanksgiving, when I was 12 years old, Arlo Guthrie took it upon himself to publish a song called Alice's Restaurant.  It was the chorus of that song that was my undoing.  It went:

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in, it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant

Oh...how the Junior High School boys laughed and pointed their fingers!  They sang and sang and sang that chorus every single time I walked down the hall at school. They snickered and giggled like little girls huddled in their groups talking junk about me.  Poor Alice.

When I tried to protest, it only made them worse.

Years later I discovered I could say something like, "Well, YOU can NOT get anything YOU want at Alice's Restaurant!" to the leader of the group, and it would generally shut them up for a little while. 

Horrifying.

Yes.  I tried to explain to them that the last of the lyrics clearly state:

You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Excepting Alice
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant

But they never listened that long.  -sigh-  Admittedly it was a long song, and Junior High School boys are notorious for short attention spans.  

After a while of singing the chorus of that song, the boys started to believe it.  No.  It was not then, nor is it now, true, but I'm thinking those boys really wanted it to be true, so they believed. 

I blame Arlo Guthrie for all those passes I endured and all those much less than arousing slobbery teenage kissing attempts.  -shudder-  Not to mention the "Alice's Restaurant" remark I had to hear a few years ago at my 40 year high school reunion.  -double shudder-

I'd just like to go on record once and for all and say, "NO, Mr. Guthrie, you can NOT get anything you want at THIS Alice's Restaurant."

Now.  Just in case some of you are too young to remember the song, here it is.  Enjoy!  The lyrics follow.

(PS: I secretly love the song.  Shh...don't tell.)




Alice's Restaurant Massacree

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in, it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant

Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago on
Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the
restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in the
church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray and
Fasha the dog. And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of
room downstairs where the pews used to be in. Havin' all that room,
seein' as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn't
have to take out their garbage for a long time.

We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it'd be
a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. So
we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW
microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the city dump.

Well we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the
dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving." And we had never heard of a dump
closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off
into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.

We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the
side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the
cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile
is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we
decided to throw ours down.

That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a Thanksgiving
dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the
next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie. He said, "Kid,
we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of a half a ton of
garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it." And
I said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope
under that garbage."

After speaking to Obie for about forty-five minutes on the telephone we
finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said that we had to go down
and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the
police officer's station. So we got in the red VW microbus with the
shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the
police officer's station.

Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at
the police station, and the first was he could have given us a medal for
being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, and
we didn't expect it, and the other thing was he could have bawled us out
and told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again,
which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's station
there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was
both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think I
can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid. Get in the back of the patrol car."

And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the
quote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town of
Stockbridge, Massachusets, where this happened here, they got three stop
signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the
Scene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars,
being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to
get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of
cop equipment that they had hanging around the police officer's station.
They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and
they took twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy photographs with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each
one was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach,
the getaway, the northwest corner, the southwest corner, and that's not to
mention the aerial photography.

After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put
us in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want your
wallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting my
wallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you
want my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." I
said, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for littering?"
Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out the
toilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he took
out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars, roll out the - roll the
toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie
was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice
(remember Alice? It's a song about Alice), Alice came by and with a few
nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back
to the church, had a another Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat,
and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court.

We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten
color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back
of each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up,
and Obie stood up with the twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy
pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing-eye dog, and he
sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing-eye dog, and then at the
twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows
and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing-eye dog.
And then at twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry,
'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American
blind justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and the
judge wasn't going to look at the twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy
pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each
one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And
we was fined $50 and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but thats not
what I came to tell you about.

I came to talk about the draft.

They got a building down New York City, it's called Whitehall Street,
where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected,
neglected, and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one
day, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, so
I looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. 'Cause I wanted to
look like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wanted
to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York,
and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all
kinds o' mean, nasty, ugly things. And I walked in and sat down and they gave
me a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the phsychiatrist, room 604."

And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I
wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and
guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead, burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill,
KILL, KILL." And I started jumpin up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL," and
he started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down
yelling, "KILL, KILL." And the Sergeant came over, pinned a medal on me,
sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy."

Didn't feel too good about it.

Proceeded on down the hall gettin more injections, inspections,
detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they was doin' to me
at the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four
hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty
ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was
inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no
part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the
last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there,
and I walked up and said, "What do you want?" He said, "Kid, we only got
one question. Have you ever been arrested?"

And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice's Restaurant Massacree,
with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and all
the phenome... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, did you ever
go to court?"

And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty-seven eight-by-ten
color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph on
the back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I want you to go and sit down on that bench that says 'Group W'... NOW, kid!!"

And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W's
where they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the Army after
committing your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean, nasty, ugly-looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father
rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And
they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-fightin' guys sitting on the
bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest
father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly
'n' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things, and he sat down next to me
and said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay
$50 and pick up the garbage." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?"
And I said, "Littering." And they all moved away from me on the bench
there, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I
said, "...and creating a nuisance." And they all came back, shook my hand,
and we had a great time on the bench, talkin' about crime, mother stabbing,
father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the
bench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of
things, until the Sergeant came over, had some paper in his hand, held it up and said,

"Kids, this-piece-of-paper's-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna-
know-details-of-the-crime-time-of-the-crime-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-
you-gotta-say-pertaining-to-and-about-the-crime-I-want-to-know-arresting-
officer's-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say", and talked for
forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had
fun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there,
and I filled out the massacree with the four part harmony, and wrote it
down there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down the
pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on the
other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on
the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the
following words:

("KID, HAVE YOU REHABILITATED YOURSELF?")

I went over to the Sergeant, said, "Sergeant, you got a lot a damn gall to
ask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'm
sittin' here on the bench, I mean I'm sittin here on the Group W bench
'cause you want to know if I'm moral enough join the Army, burn women,
kids, houses and villages after bein' a litterbug." He looked at me and
said, "Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send you fingerprints
off to Washington."

And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a
study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I'm
singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar
situation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in a
situation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk into
the shrink wherever you are ,just walk in say "Shrink, You can get
anything you want, at Alice's restaurant.". And walk out. You know, if
one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and
they won't take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony,
they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them.
And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in
singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. They may think it's an
organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I said
fifty people a day walking in singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and
walking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.

And that's what it is , the Alice's Restaurant Anti-Massacre Movement, and
all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on the
guitar.

With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and
sing it when it does. Here it comes.

You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant

That was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud.
I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it
for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired.

So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part
harmony and feeling.

We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing.

All right now.

You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Excepting Alice
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant

Da da da da da da da dum
At Alice's Restaurant

Written by Arlo Guthrie, Garry Sherman • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, The Bicycle Music Company

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Shel Silverstein

Today I'm thinking about Shel Silverstein.  For those of you who do not recognize the name, I am truly sorry you have lived this long without experiencing his work. 

Shel Silverstein was an author, a poet, a dreamer, a schemer, a songwriter, a singer, a screenwriter, a playwright, an artist, a cartoonist, a veteran, and just an all-around remarkable man.  He was born September 25, 1930 and died May 10, 1999.  He called himself Uncle Shelby.

Shel Silverstein

One of my favorite of his children's books is The Giving Tree.  In the book the tree gives everything it has to the child as the child grows up.  The child does not seem thankful at all, but just keeps asking for more.  

I've often wondered why Uncle Shelby wrote the child to be so selfish with no seeming redeeming qualities, but if I think about it, I have to admit humanity is pretty much the same.  I feel so sorry for the tree in the story, but the tree seems content to give and the child seems okay with taking and taking and taking offering nothing in return. 

I think this book is one of my favorites because it is honest.  It doesn't even try to color-coat the truth. 

Yes.  I love Uncle Shelby's children's books, but his poems hold my heart.  I just love them.  They make me laugh. 

I bought his books of poetry as they were published (beginning in the 1970s) and still have them on my bookshelf today: Where the Sidewalk Ends, A Light in the Attic, Falling Up.

I read these poems to my sons over and over and over as they were growing up.  Their favorite was:

SMART (from Where the Sidewalk Ends)
by Shel Silverstein

My dad gave me one dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more than one!

And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes -- I guess he don't know
That three is more than two!

Just then, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!

And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
And the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!

And then I went and showed my dad,
And he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head--
Too proud of me to speak!

But my all time favorite was:

HECTOR THE COLLECTOR (from Where the Sidewalk Ends)
by Shel Silverstein

Hector the Collector
Collected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring.

Pieces out of picture puzzles,
Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Twists of wires, worn-out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks.

Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,
Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,
Leaky boats that wouldn't float
And stopped-up horns that wouldn't toot.

Butter knives that had no handles,
Copper keys that fit no locks,
Rings that were too small for fingers,
Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks
.
Worn-out belts that had no buckles,
'Lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.

Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul,
Loved them more than shining diamonds,
Loved them more than glistenin' gold.

Hector called to all the people,
"Come and share my treasure trunk!"
And all the silly sightless people
Came and looked...and called it junk.

My very favorite of the songs Uncle Shelby wrote was sung by Johnny Cash.  It was called: A Boy Named Sue.  Enjoy!



To learn more about Shel Silverstein visit http://www.shelsilverstein.com/

Friday, August 26, 2016

Ginger's Haircut

When I was seven years old, after my Daddy died, we moved to a smaller house with a horse pasture in the backyard and also on one side of it.  We had a double-car garage with an unfinished apartment over it that served as a barn.  The garage had no doors, so the horses could easily go inside out of the weather.  

That's when I met Ginger.

Ginger was my friend, Sudie's horse, but she lived at my house. She was smaller than a regular horse and larger than a pony.  She was red...thus the name.  

Ginger with one of her foals.
Ginger would bite.  Ginger would kick.  When Ginger laid her ears back on her head, you might as well get ready.  She was up to no good.

Looking back now I think, "Well, who could blame her???"  We pretty much worried Ginger to death, I'm sure.  

Our neighborhood was just full of little girls back in the 1960s when we were little and Ginger was in her prime, and you know how much little girls love horses.

Poor Ginger.

One time Sudie, Ruth, and I decided to cut Ginger's "hair" (mane).  Have you ever seen a horse with bangs?  -laughing-  Poor poor Ginger.

Imagine something like this only the bangs were straighter and much shorter and sticking out more.

I still remember that conversation very well.  The three of us had a pair of scissors and were discussing who should do the deed.  We went back and forth until Ruth finally said, "Let me do it.  My aunt's a beautician."

Well, that made perfect sense to Sudie and me, so we let Ruth do it.

Man.  We got in trouble!  -laughing-  

Sudie and I were only 8 or 9 years old at the time and Ruth must have been 10 or 11, which is probably why our parents didn't actually kill us.  

It still makes me laugh every time I think about poor Ginger with that haircut.  It took a very long time for it to grow back out to where she looked normal again.  

Ginger was also how I broke my arm in third grade, but that is a story for another day.   😱

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

A Funny Video to Cheer You

Do you ever just feel a little off? Not really sick. Not really well. Tired. Stressed.

Well, that is kinda the way I feel today, so I've decided to share a funny video to cheer myself up (and maybe you too).

Enjoy!