After yesterday’s orgy of capitalist excess (if you missed it, you can still see it all right here), today I’m taking us back to an earlier, grittier time. In fact, back to a time when I was only 8 or 9 years old. If you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be an 8 or 9 year old boy, this may come as somewhat of a revelation. In my case, The Beverly Hillbillies was one of my favorite prime time TV shows. And coprolalia was the order of the day. If either of those cultural/linguistic tidbits sails right past your earlobe, you can look it up. And remember, in today’s world (unlike back in the 60’s), GIYF (Google Is Your Friend).
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My favorite joke when I was 8 or 9 was a sort of take-off on the Jed Clampett premise. It goes something like this…
A buzzard, a turtle, and a rabbit are down on their luck. So they set out on a long journey seeking better fortune. After many long days tramping the trails, they set up camp one cold night in a desolate dusty place devoid of food, water, or firewood. Think “Texas” before they had “On The Border.”
The buzzard and the turtle plop themselves down on the ground for another cold hungry over-night. The rabbit, on the other hand, is having none of it. “I saw a herd of longhorns a ways back. I’m gonna go get us some dried cow-pies so at least we can make a fire and stay warm. “Good luck with that,” say the buzzard and the turtle. “We’ll see you when you get back.”
The rabbit, of course, loses his way and fails to return. Next day the buzzard and the turtle trudge on in search of more hospitable lodging. After many more months on the road – in fact come springtime – they finally find a spot that looks promising. So they claim it as their own and start building a cabin. As fate would have it, while digging a well for water, they strike oil, become very rich, upgrade the cabin to a mansion, and hire a butler.
Meanwhile, the rabbit, having found some cow pies but having lost his friends, comes up the road nearly worn-out. And he’s still mad over their laziness when they first were separated. First person he meets is the butler, who shows him inside. The mansion is opulently appointed with gold-plated fixtures and all the latest amenities.
“I’m looking for some friends I lost last winter and I was wondering if you’ve seen a buzzard or a turtle around these parts,” says the rabbit.
“I’m very sorry sir,” says the butler with a highly refined Brahmin accent, “but Mr. Buzz-ARD is out in the yahd.”
Taken aback, the rabbit says, “Mr. Buzz-ARD? Well then, how about a turtle?”
“Nosir,” says the butler, “but Mr. Tur-TELL is down by the well.”
Unable to contain himself any longer, the rabbit fumes, “OK. Why don’t you go get Mr. Buzz-ARD from out in the yahd and Mr. Tur-TELL from down by the well, and tell them both… that Mr. Rah-BIT is here with their SHIT!”
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Like I said, 8 or 9 year-old-boys: Whatcha gonna do, eh?
I think I remember you telling that joke!!!