Let’s Have An Adventure . . . by Joseph G. Evrard, Staff Kentuckian
Do you like adventures? Good! So do I. Today’s column is going to be an adventure. I’m going to sit at the keyboard and start typing. I have no idea where we’ll end up! Ready? Here we go.
Happy Fourth of July! Yes, I know the Fourth of July is long gone, but I’m writing this on the Fourth of July, so it seems appropriate to at least say something by way of greeting. Did you know that the Fourth of July is a legal holiday?
Just in case you’ve never done it before, stop and think just what that means. If we all agree that the Fourth of July is a legal holiday, then there must be ILLEGAL holidays, too. I wonder what they are. Did someone ever tell you that you needed legal representation? Why doesn’t anyone ever tell you to seek illegal representation? If something is legally yours, can something else be illegally yours?
Think about the phrase, “Very truly yours,” with which people end letters. Wouldn’t it be fun sometime to end a letter with “Pretty much truly yours,” or “Mildly sincerely yours,” just to see what kind of reaction you get?
Why do people ask you how you’re doing when they really don’t want to know? Someday just for the fun of it, answer this question honestly. See if that person ever asks you again. I’m told that in Egypt, a traditional greeting is, “How are you sweating today?” Guess that makes sense.
Has anyone ever told you that they saw something with their own eyes?” Well, of course they did! Who else’s eyes could they have seen it with? That’s as stupid as a television news program calling itself “Eyewitness News.” What other options do they have? Nosewitness News?
Earwitness News? I could go on with this but it might get silly.
If you park your car in a carport, do they park air at the airport? Do they park rivers at a river port? What do they park at a seaport?
Have you seen the chicken kits they’re selling at the local market? Somebody doesn’t have their head screwed on too straight about this venture. In one part of the cooler they have legs and thighs. In another part they’re selling wings and breasts. And you have to go to still another to get a gizzard. And, get this, nowhere, I mean NOWHERE in the whole store do they sell feathers!
Now how is a person supposed to assemble a whole chicken if they scatter the parts all over the place and don’t even sell feathers? Sure, I like to support our local merchants just as much as the next guy does, but give me a break! If you’re going to sell chicken kits, at least try to be complete! I guess I’ll try the hobby store in the city.
Here’s one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever heard…stop and count to ten before shooting off your mouth. In fact, when you think about it, that’s probably good advice when talking about any body part. You’d really be sorry if you just went ahead and shot off your toes without thinking about it, or even your fingers or ears.
Why are the cowboys of the old west considered such romantic heroes? There must have been guys who were a lot rougher and tougher and much more manly than cowboys. Here’s how I arrive at this conclusion.
Where there are cows, there are also cowboys to manage them. Where there are cows, sooner or later, there will also be BULLS. Who manages the bulls? Cowboys? Not on your life! The cowboy’s union would never stand for that. There MUST have been BULLBOYS back in the old west, too! How come we never hear about them? Huh? Who’s likely to be tougher, a cowboy or a bullboy? Why did we used to play cowboys and Indians? Why didn’t they let us play bullboys and Indians? Huh? How about that?! I think we got cheated.
Speaking of playing as a kid, did you ever have a FORT? Every kid has to have a fort. Your fort could be made from anything. An old washing machine crate, a pile of logs, a big honeysuckle bush, an few old barrels, branches stuck in the ground, anything could be a fort?
Many, when you had a fort, you were OK! You were protected. You were safe against those nasty ol’ bad guys, safe against grown-ups calling you home to take a bath, safe against green guys in flying saucers, safe against whatever might come along to spoil your pleasure.
In this spirit of enjoyment and safety, I wish you and yours a happy FORT OF JULY.
See Ya Around,
Buck
