Monday, April 09, 2007

This is simply hilarious.

BTW I was reading some of my old missives from Sonora the other day and I've decided I'm just not very funny any more. I apologize. I simply used to be funnier. Or maybe life was funnier? Anyway, since I am having a little trouble squeezing humor out of life right now, I thought I'd remind you of how entertaining I used to be. This is from May of 2003:

In the news this week: Adidas is being taken to court by the state of California for selling a sneaker it aptly calls "Predator" that's made out of kangaroo hides. Under a 1971 law, you can't sell stuff that's made out of elephants, crocodiles, sable antelope, jaguars, cheetahs or polar bears. This is the most random grouping of animals I have ever heard of. What if you wanted to sell sneakers made out of koalas or humpack whales?
Next: I was covering a story about this arch in Twain Harte. It's a big wooden arch, as you might have guessed, and it says "Twain Harte" on it, big surprise. They're repairing it, but some elderly residents are rumored to be up in arms about the mud swallows that live in the arch and how they might be displaced or something. So I'm calling around and I finally find this guy who's repairing the arch and his name, it turns out, is Woody. Never mind how this guy is one of about three people on the planet who willingly calls himself Woody, the other two being Woody Harrelson and Woody Allen. His real name is Steve. And he owns a business called Woody's Cabinets or something. Anyway, as soon as I say peep about birds he goes off the deep end and starts ranting about how if I write an article about birds in the arch, French women with hair in their armpits (I am not making this up) will come to Twain Harte to protest. I have no idea what he's talking about so I just say, "I see." And further confusing me, he starts calling the people who are worried about the birds "old birds." Anyway, I get off the phone with him and about 10 minutes later this guy, Doug, some hoity toity fellow in Twain Harte, calls my editor and wants to know why we're making a big stink about the birds in the arch. He insists we not write anything remotely negative about the arch. And my editor assures him that we have no intention of writing anything about birds in the arch, but not because he called. It was because I couldn't find a single person who gave two poos about the stupid birds in the arch. But this Doug guy is all in a panic and my editor says, and I quote, "We're dropping it because no one gives a rat's ass about the birds, Doug." Ah. That was a fine moment.

So yeah. I thought that was pretty damn funny, but maybe it's just cause I was there and it was really funny for me.
Some of the funniest stuff I've ever written (I think) was from Florida and the resulting drive back with my mother. That's no longer in my computer, though, so... too bad! I did have a very kind friend who printed out all of my emails from those few months and put them in a binder for me, so it's kind of cool to be able to read them now and then. Embarrassing, but cool. :-)

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