“There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!”

So wrote Charles Dickens in 1843 in a story titled A Christmas Carol.  It starts out with this simple sentence:  “Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.” 

He ends this first paragraph like this:  “Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.”

But seven years later, on Christmas Eve, he appears again, his apparition visage in a doorknocker.

In one of my favorite all-time literary metaphors, it is described as having a “dismal light about it” and being “like a bad lobster in a dark cellar.” 

So when “Old Marley” strolls (or floats) into Ebenezer Scrooge’s bedroom, we learn that what he wants from old Scrooge is “MUCH” and that it’s time to call for the Ghostbusters.   But while this specter is scaring the “Dickens” out of him, Scrooge keeps his sense of humor by doubtfully asking the poltergeist if he could sit down.  Marley replies that he can and Scrooge insists he “Do it then!”

He then goes on to insult Casper (the not-so-friendly ghost) by calling him “an undigested bit of beef” and issuing the classic “gravy” line.  Needless to say, the phantom Mr. M was pissed!

Nothing gets me more in the “spirit” of the season more than watching all of the many versions of  “Scrooge” while snuggled up on the couch with my wife and some liquid spirits. We’ve got George C. Scott, Patrick Stewart, Albert Finey, Alastair Sim and Scrooge McDuck in the many versions of the Christmas classic.

 As we learn in this cautionary tale, we should consider how we live our lives and how we will be remembered.  Personally, I don’t want to be that see-through dude wearing that ponderous “chain I forged in life.” I’d prefer to be like Patrick  Swazey at the pottery wheel helping shape the perfect clay pot. Thus I try to “be of good cheer” all through the rolling year and be cognizant that “mankind is my business.”

We know that Scrooge considered his old partner a “good man of business.”  If Scrooge had any sense of humor he would have had this inscription put on Marley’s gravestone: " I made some good deals and I made some bad ones.  I really went in the hole with this one.”

We know that we cannot take our money with us when we go, (as if there will be any money left), it may be possible to “leave ‘em laughing.”   I used to walk my dog in a local cemetery and I came across a gravestone with an inscription that always made me smile.  It read:  “DAD – INCORRIGIBLE PUNSTER.”  Underneath it reads, “Ask for me tomorrow and you will find me a grave man.”                 

                                                    

I was talking to someone recently that said they had to do a school project and design their own gravestone. This got me thinking about what I would have as “my last message to the world of the living.” When folks come to visit me, I want to “leave ‘em laughing” with some clever inscription. Here are a few amusing epitaphs that I like but I’ll keep working on my own. 

(a dentist in Scotland) … Dentist Brown Is filling his last cavity.

3.14159265358979323846264338327950288,  (I call this one Life of PI  - it is on the gravestone of  Dutch mathematician,  Ludolph van Ceulen, who spent his life calculating the numerical value of pi.)

Osho (or Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh) :"Never born, Never died: visited the planet earth between December 11, 1931 and, January 19, 1990."

“Who are you?” asked Scrooge.

“Ask me who I was? “

“Who were you then?” said Scrooge, raising his voice. “You’re particular, for a shade.”

“In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley.”

In my Last Will and Testament I’m going to request that a device be installed in my gravestone that will prompt my visitors to ask:  “Who were you?”

And the answer will come out of a little speaker and it will say: “In life I was your latex salesman”  or

“Luke, I was your father. “ (Or any number of other equally clever lines.)

(Note:  Real Star Wars fans will of course know that the line was "No, I am your father")

I came across some excellent examples of  humorous celebrity epitaphs that are  more about gravy than grave. Here are some classics:

Mel Blanc, the man of 1000 voices who did all the Looney Toon characters:

“That’s All Folks.”

Merv Griffin:  “I will not be right back after this message.”

Rodney Dangerfield:  “There goes the neighborhood. “

Leslie Nielsen:  “Let ‘er rip.”

 John Belushi:  "He could have given us a few more laughs, but nooooo."

(This one is strictly urban legend.) Johnnie Cochran, the famous attorney died in 2005 and you might think his gravestone reads: “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”  However, it could read: “O.J. did it.”

But life is for the living and I will endeavor to be like Old Fezziwig and hope to be remembered as one who brought happiness to those who knew him, “as if it cost a fortune.”  I "will have no further intercourse with Spirits" and "keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge."  

"And as Tiny Tim observed:  God bless us, everyone!"

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Steve E. Reno

Getting fit, the "RIGHT" way....

I remember the day that changed my life. It was the Wednesday after the mid-term elections and the Republicans had just won enough seats to gain control of the Senate. I went to the Judgement Free Zone as I do most mornings and hopped on a bike to work up a sweat.The channel was set to Fox News and I was watching the joint press conference with John Boehner, (Speaker of the House) and Mitch McConnell, (newly re-elected Senator from Kentucky.) The more I watched, the angrier I got. Then it hit me like a thunderbolt. I had just come up with a brand new, sure fire fat burning fitness routine.  Here’s my story:

About Steve E. Reno Creator of FN90X^®

I used to go the gym in the morning and watch Ellen, ESPN sports and (liberal) network news. I found myself hitting a plateau in my workout routine. I was too content with good-natured lesbian sarcasm, insightful sports analysis and factual reporting of the news and I’d find myself leaving full of endorphins and a false sense of well being. Then one day, I forced myself to watch Fox News for an hour and before long my heart rate had increased to my fat burning, target level and I found myself screaming at the TV. I was gripping the handles of my stationary bike so tightly that my muscles were aching. I was feeling the burn all right! I was pissed and I could feel my body tensing up so much that no fat cells wanted any part of me. I decided right then and there that I had tapped into something special and that I needed to share my secret of fat burning stress relief with others.  Read about the latest result oriented program that is going to revolutionize the fitness industry. 

FN90X^® Workout- (Patented Fox News 90 X weight loss program.) Go from fat and happy to thin and certifiably insane in just 90 days! Most people see results in 30 days but if you want to turn into a complete lunatic, go for the advanced 90-day work out plan. Order FN90I – Fox News 90 I (for INSANITY) with introduction by SeanT.

Warning:  Though no anabolic steroids are involved, similar side effects like flying into rages and suffering from delusions have been reported.   Ask your doctor if you’re healthy enough for sudden increases in blood pressure and sane enough for extreme outrage.

 HOW FN90X^® WORKS: THE SCIENCE OF RATIONAL BRAIN CONFUSION™

Here's the true secret of how FN90X^®  works: Brain Confusion. FN90X^® uses targeted “fair and balanced” reporting so your mind (and waistline) keep narrowing. You'll never "plateau"—which means your brain will never get used to the right wing propaganda making for increased anger levels resulting in higher blood pressure and increased caloric burn.  

• Short viewing cycles constantly challenge your patience with biased and transparently partisan commentary.
• FN90X^® maximizes fat burning in different ways every day.  One day you’ll watch Hannity, another you’ll watch Huckabee.  Every day you’ll watch something different that will get you ripping mad!

Read some of our (unsolicited) testimonials:

“It was simple yet it had a science to it with this Brain Confusion." 
T. Party, Intercourse, PA

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten angrier in my life.  The pounds just melted off.” 
Eileen Wright, Phoenix AZ

“After having my first child, I was watching a lot of CNN and other liberal news media and I was having a hard time getting angry enough to lose the extra baby weight. The FN90X^® program made a “pit bull with lipstick” out of me in no time helping me burn the extra calories.”
Tess Tamoni,  Brooklyn, NY

“After just one workout I was ready to go out and buy an assault rifle and castrate some hogs!” 
Joni Makemsqueal Ernst, Des Moines, IA

Here are just a few of the workout routines that you’ll get when you buy the FN90X^®  fitness program:

Day one: 10 minutes of fat burning, anger inducing cardio with Fox News – America’s Newsroom.  Two robots resembling a perfect American man and woman who are programmed to steer every news story to the right while managing to blame the Obama Administration for everything from extreme weather to the lack of a cure for the common cold. Follow this with loud, grunting bench pressing until you find your anger subsiding.
Day Two:  A 10-minute intense core strengthening viewing session of Hannity, guaranteed to get your stomach in knots (involving all those hard to work ab muscles) with infuriating commentary on liberal Democrats and their design for a “Great Welfare State.”  Follow this with 100 crunches as you count to clear your mind. Don’t forget to breathe!
Day Three:  10 minutes of The O’Reilly Factor on the treadmill that will really get your blood boiling. You won’t realize the treadmill is going as fast as it can go until you find yourself running to try to jump into the TV set to shut him up (or at least turn off the sound.) Follow this with “real” dumbbells and perform bicep curls until the pain in your arms is worse than your headache.

But wait!  If you order now, we’ll also send you our “mobile app” that gives you access to some of the most outrageous, right wing radio programming on the planet.  Listen to Rush, Beck and Savage while you’re out jogging and you’ll find yourself getting so worked up you’ll wind up sprinting for miles and ready to go 15 rounds with Rocky!

Our 90-Day Money Back Guarantee:
If our scientifically designed program of Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid bashing or Obamacare repeal rhetoric is not everything we promised, just return the program for a full refund.

Order now! Get Mad and Get Fit!

Let's get the band back together.....

I played the drums in my first band when I was in 7^th grade.  We called ourselves The Teabaggers (which referred to a “social type” who wore penny loafers and bleeding Madras shirts.)  That band was short lived and never had a paying gig.  However we soon reinvented ourselves into The Changin’ Tyde and got serious about our musical ambitions. (Note: Adding the Olde English “Y” to any name increased the cool factor.)  Our first paying gig was at a “teen dance” in the basement of a church. The big payday at the end of the night was $15 (split between the three of us) and thus began the rapid ascent of our “professional” music careers.  We astutely ascertained that to land the high paying gigs (i.e. more than $15) we needed a lead singer as well as “uniforms”, which in our case included white Levi’s with penny loafers, a puffy sleeved white satin shirt and a vest. 

Note: Special thanks to our “roadie” parents for driving us (and all of our gear) to the gig an hour away – then waiting until it was over for the load out.

With each new band line up came a new, exciting (and thought provoking) moniker. By the time we were in high school the British Invasion was in full force and bands, with increasingly cool names were proliferating.  Our band became The Sleepless Nyte (again with the “Y”) and with our Farfisa wielding keyboard player, we could impress our school gym audience with a 20-minute version of Light My Fire.

W soon hooked up with some quality talent from another high school and with this new band came the new name The Audience. (Clever, eh?) It was purported by one former band member that for a day or two we called ourselves The InSex, which I now find incredibly creative.  

As (garage) bands multiplied, band names became more creative and went from the ridiculous to the sublime.  (The band called Sublime would be ridiculous, not sublime.)  Considering band names from A to Z, as with all musical things of the 60’s, we must start with the Beatles,  (cool name, cool guys and cool songs, inspired by Buddy Holly's band, The Crickets) and end with The Zombies (way ahead of their “Walking Dead” time.) After that we can start breaking down band names into categories:  Animals, (like The Animals or Critters), food groups (like Cream or Meat Loaf), psychedelic names (like Strawberry Alarm Clock or Electric Prunes) and end with a category called “Seriously?”  (e.g. Spooky Tooth, Mott the Hoople, Lothar and the Hand People and Ultimate Spinach, just to name a few.)

More recently, we might consider adding a category of band name “fails.”  (I often avoid listening to bands based on their name, which is unfair.) I nominate the following (which are either too “Emo”, stupid or both):

System of a Down
Toad the Wet Sprocket
Goo Goo Dolls
Planes Mistaken For Stars

The old curmudgeon in me might say; “We didn’t have no stinkin’ Internet band names generators back in our day.  We made up these lame band names on our own!” Now you can now use band name generators to come up with your own random and nonsensical band name.  Let’s try a metal band name.  (Always good to start with "Iron," (e.g. Iron Butterfly, Iron Maiden.)

One click yielded the following results:

Vanilla Iron (which makes it a very wimpy metal band alluding to Vanilla Ice or Fudge.)

Optimistic Iron (I really think that we can make it as a metal band.)
 Wiggle of Iron  (an introduction to metal music for preschoolers.)

  

This bluegrass band name generator is a great recipe for a creating a fast pickin’, bluegrass band.  Just add a banjo, fiddle, mandolin and some high, lonesome harmonies.

Try it for yourself:

• Column A                       Column B          Column C
• Foggy                               Mountain             Ramblers
• Smoky                              Valley                  Boys
• Lost                                  Trail                     Riders
• Rocky                               Bottom                Rangers
• Lonesome                         Creek                  Rovers

Yee haw!

Often time’s band names seem to spring from “brainstorming” (possibly including drugs and alcohol.)

How about a category for “complete sentence band names”? 

Here’s my favorite:  Say Hi to Your Mom.  (homage to yo’ mama jokes) 

Or band names with run together words like Highasakite or Boysetfire. (isyourspacebarbroken?)

Or single food names like Korn and Bread  (not so good by themselves but as a double bill, pretty tasty!)

If we want to be very “modern” we could suggest a category called “auto-correct band names.”This started out as an auto-correct text and then after repeating became what was initially thought to be a good band name, Dandelion Sex Fluids. However, it seemed the more you heard it, the more you hated it.  (Like hearing James Blunt’s overplayed song, “Beautiful.”)

I’ll leave you with some band names that I wish that I had thought up (and copyrighted):

The Burning Sensations (Fraught with connotations, both good and bad.)

The Little Green Men (Band from the 50’s who capitalized on UFO mania.)

Tenacious D (Damn you Jack Black!)

Hostile Comb-over (This name screams Donald Trump!)

Furious George (Boy George in a yellow hat with his angry pet monkey)

Abracadaver (Harry Potter meets the Grateful Dead)

Gringo Starr (Salsa music, Beatle style)

Me First and the Gimme Gimmes  (It’s just fun to say.)

As Shirley, Shirley, Bo Birley, Banana Fanna Fo Firley once said, 

“It’s the Name Game!”

Read this with your "mourning" coffee..

Ok, first I’ll hit the drive-thru at Starbucks and pick up my coffee. Then I’ll drive-thru McDonald's and pick up my Egg McMuffin.  Since the bank lobby is not open yet, I’ll make a quick stop at the bank drive up ATM and get some cash.  While I’m at it, I’ll drop off my dry cleaning at the drive-thru cleaners and then pick up my prescription at the Rite Aid drive-thru. I saw on Facebook that Joe’s grandmother died so as long as I’m out doing errands, I’ll go to the funeral home and use the drive-thru window to pay my respects. 

Drive-thru funeral home viewing?!  Yes, you heard it right. Here’s how it works. When you drive up, the curtain opens and the angled casket becomes visible.  You can then sign the retractable guest book and insert a card or other condolence. Then you can attend the funeral service at the drive-in church, where you can park and tune in your radio and hear the service. 

As James Taylor put it so aptly in his song “Traffic Jam”:

“just strap me in behind the wheel

and bury me with my automobile.”

Many commuters, from NYC to Boston to L.A. spend so many hours of their life in their cars that when added up can be measured in days, weeks and months.   The problem is that in trying to make the time in the car more productive they become increasingly distracted from the task of driving.   Though we all thought there would be flying cars or at least monorails that would diminish our commuting time, it seems that the big auto makers have made sure that we are married to the internal combustion engine vehicle to get us from point A to point B.  Maybe the best we can hope for is the “Google” auto drive car with a built in iPhone with Siri to respond our commands.  

As a teenager, I worked as a “carhop” (a what?!) at the local Stewart's Root Beer stand.  Cars would pull up and I would go out and take their orders for hamburgers, fries, shakes and root beer floats.  The customers would wait in their cars until I brought out the tray and carefully placed it on the partially rolled down window.  Around this time, power windows became all the rage and caused a few major spills of food and drinks into the driver’s lap.  (I was guilty as charged on at least one occasion.) Our 1950’s carhop predecessors used to do this on roller skates!  

With the convenience of drive-thru windows and our propensity for instant gratification, we are only limited to our imaginations for ways to avoid exiting our cars. Consider this idea (not legal in all states):  The drive-thru liquor store.  Isn’t that a sensible idea?  You can drive to the store sober and be drunk by the time you return home without getting out of your pickup truck.  Louisiana actually has drive up bars (called Daiquiri Planet) where you can order a Red Bull and vodka Daiquiri from the drive up window. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere and Happy Hour at the drive-thru bar!  (Please drive carefully and drink responsibly.)

Given the convenience of drive-thru cocktails, it is no great leap to discover the drive- thru Strip clubs that offer shows through a peephole as well as drive-thru sex shops for your brown bag purchases. (Keep both hands on the wheel and no idling please!)

Now who has time to wait in the E.R. when a health emergency arises?  Someone came up with the idea of  an urgent care drive up window. If you want to find out whether you are having a heart attack or if your arm has just fallen asleep from hanging out the window of the car all day doing errands, just drive up and the doctor will see you now.  The following dialogue might ensue:

“Please put your arm in the sleeve and we’ll check your blood pressure.   On a scale of 1 to 10, what is your pain level? We will now go online to WebMD and check your symptoms for a diagnosis.  Please pull up to the next window and you can pay and pick up your prescription.”  

How about taking the quickie, wedding trip to Vegas to a new level?  The “Say I Do- Drive-thru Wedding Chapel” will do the trick. Get married and start a family right in the comfy confines of your Smart Car.  

With TV lawyers hawking their services in ads starring themselves, it is no surprise that we now have drive-thru legal offices.  Don’t wait after you’ve been arrested on the way home from the drive-thru cocktail lounge.  Drive right to the drive-thru at “Payne & Suffrin” law office and get some legal advice.  “What, they didn’t tell you should not drink it until you got home?! I think we’ve got a case.”

So if you’re behind me in the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru, give me a wave and I’ll pay for your coffee. (You’ll know it’s me by my “Tom Hanks for President” bumper sticker.)

Steve E. Reno. 

I hate to "Bud" in.....but WASSSUP!

If I had a dollar for every Budweiser can I’ve picked up that’s been discarded into the environment, I’d be rich enough to buy a team of Clydesdales or buy a 30 second ad during the Super Bowl. 

If you asked me (go ahead, ask me, I dare you) to identify one reason that the world is going to hell in a hand-basket, I’d simply say; “Budweiser.”

Now why am I demonizing Budweiser, which is a ridiculously popular part of life in America, as we know it?

(Bud Light has a 19.7 % share of the beer market.) What could possibly more American than the picture of the dude coming out of the convenience store carrying his 24 pak of Bud Light cans? 

I am often espousing this “truth” to anyone that will listen. My theory is that anywhere in the world, from the most remote to the most densely populated areas, if you look hard enough you’ll stumble across an empty, crushed Budweiser can. (Bud bottles are a slightly less plentiful perhaps because they are a little less portable and tend to shatter when thrown on the ground by the inebriated drinker.)

When Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon, do you know what he found? An empty Bud can in one of the lunar craters!  “That’s one small step for man….one more goddamned empty beer can!” Now that’s an exaggerated rewrite of history but if  “man” does establish any kind of habitat on the moon or any other planet, I’m confident that my prognostication may come true.  

 

I used to walk my dog in the local cemetery and it was a daily ritual of picking up the empty beer cans.  Granted, even though they were “Light”, (or less filling), it gave me no particular satisfaction.  I’m sure that the “dead” were not “grateful” for those littering their resting place with nightly visits by those who may have missed the Bud ad that states; “Where there’s life, there’s Bud.”

The notion of “drinking responsibly” was a feeble attempt to justify Anheuser-Bush’s ads that have been increasingly geared toward the “now old enough to drink legally,” Spring Break loving college age kids. But Bud Light can also boast that it is the drink of choice for the unauthorized high school party taking place when the “rents” go away for the weekend. 

Now to be fair, Miller Lite (“tastes great…less filling.”) cans are often found in similar abundance on roadsides, woodsy trails and in parking lots. Can we extrapolate the of quantity of beer cans sold to quantity of beer cans callously and unceremoniously left for dead in the environment?  After all, isn’t even negative advertising, good advertising?  To the easily influenced, seeing more discarded Bud Light cans than Miller Lite cans in a pile in the woods would certainly influence their next purchase of a 24 pak –they would buy Bud Light!  

Can you imagine life without beer commercials or billboards?   Could we live in a world where they did not sell Bud Light at the ballpark in a plastic cup for $10 apiece? Could we endure the Super Bowl without the “Bud Bowl,” talking frogs or the adorable Clydesdale commercials?  Imagine what John Lennon might say:

Imagine there's no Bud Bowl

It isn't hard to do
Nothing but ads for Best Buy
And no tailgating too
Imagine all the viewers

   Drinking responsibly… 

Ok, inventors, let’s put on our thinking caps and come up with some solutions.  
 Here are my ideas:

Let’s design a “self-destructing” Budweiser container that will disintegrate automatically when it comes in contact with the ground.  (Note: If you’ve fallen down and passed out after drinking your entire 24 pack of Bud Light and you’re laying on the ground, the can will disintegrate and spill all over you, like someone splashing cold water in your face.)

How about the environmentally friendly cardboard can? (Like a juice box with a pop-top, plastic straw not included, as the inebriated imbiber would be unable to poke the straw through the opening and throw it on the ground.)  An alcoholic juice box with a  “born on” date!

Imagine if we could coat the can with a strong magnetic material that would rub off (add metal to the aluminum).  When the drunken litterbug tries to toss the empty can, it will “yo yo” right back up into the hand of the beholder. After all, “beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve imbibed my share of “brewskis” over the years and would be happy to have a beer with you after work some day.  But I’m tired of picking up after those who persist in leaving their pop-top aluminum calling card all over “this land is your land, this land is my land.”  I almost “laughed out loud” (LOL)  last week when I went out to get my paper and what do I spy in the grass next door?  A crushed Bud Light can! I might have laughed if I were not so “hopping” M.A.D.D!  So faithful readers, here endeth today’s blog rant. And in conclusion I will say; “ When you say Budweiser, you’ve said it all.”

For all you do, this (Bud)Blog’s for you.

Steve E. Reno

Excuse me, do you speak English?

I always enjoy hearing people complaining that if you want to be considered an American, you need to speak English. They complain about having to listen to a message, in Spanish and having to “Press 1 for English.”  I’ve seen signs that say; “This is America. We speak English.”  

Now unless I’m mistaken, the indigenous population inhabiting North America (before called it was America), was not speaking English.   Didn’t “we” risk life and limb to cross the ocean so that we could speak our own version of “The King’s English” (while trying to coerce the Native Americans to do the same)?  The “enlightened” Facebook posters declare that we speak “American” and if you want to live here, you better know how to speak “are" language.  (And by the way, wherever in the world “we” visit, we expect that everyone else should also speak our language, for our convenience.)  

Well, that would imply that if we need to speak English, that we should probably be able to read and write English as well.  Therein lies the rub.  I’ve heard some horrendous bastardizations of the English language and seen comical misuse and abuse of the written word.  Here’s a perfect example:  This sign was apparently suggested and sanctioned by Mayor Chester Stranczek (of Crestwood, who knows where):  ENGLISH IS OUR LANGUAGE  NO “EXCETIONS” LEARN IT! (Nice.) 

Though we all speak English, we find that regional dialects can challenge our hearing to the point of English sounding completely foreign.  We have come to appreciate the unique dialects spoken by long term residents of Bangor, Maine, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, or Bronx, NY, for example. Remember the scene in My Cousin Vinny where Joe Pesci was describing (to Fred Gwyne, the judge)  the boys he was defending as “youts”?

   Vinny: Is it possible that the two youts--

    Judge Haller: Uh, the two what? Uh, uh, what was that word?

    Vinny: Uh, what word?

    Judge Haller: Two what?

    Vinny: What?

    Judge Haller: Did you say "yutes"?

    Vinny: Yeah, two youts.

    Judge Haller: What is a yute?

    Vinny: Oh, excuse me, Your Honor, two youths.

The English language can sound very foreign when one moves from one part of the country to another.  (Disclaimer;  I frequent the “Judgement Free Zone” so these are observations only.) I think it may be physically impossible to live down South for any length of time without incorporating “y’all” to your everyday vocabulary. When I first moved to New Hampshire (from New Jersey), I could not believe my ears the first time I heard some one say; “So don’t I” as a response to a sentence like; “I love to go out for ice cream.”  I soon learned that employment of the reverse or double negative also applied to the plural as well as the tense.  “We had lahbsta last night.”  “ So didn’t we!”  (would be the reply)

“I’d be too scared to go on that roller coaster.”  “So wouldn’t I!” (would be the proper New England response.) 

Sometimes, if we use an expression enough, it begins to sound correct.  Every now and then, we hear someone butchering some common expression or mixing metaphors and we have to keep from laughing out loud.  We all seem to have adopted a particular malaprop to the point of saying the expression the right way sounds strange.  We like to describe what should be a simple project (but may be more involved) as “rocket surgery.” For example, it sounds strange to say that it should not be “rocket science” to develop a good tasting decapitated coffee!

Often times people (speaking English?) can really abuse a phrase resulting in a “malapropism.” How about this one for a classic botched expression: “She was suffering from a detached rectum.” (I guess she could not see for sh**!)

In other cases people keep using incorrect expression because others are reluctant to point out that it’s wrong.  Take this one for example:  “Corporate, in their infamous wisdom, decided to have more layoffs.”  It sounds “kind of right” but it’s infinitely incorrect.

We endured eight years of George W. Bush, who was a “vast suppository”of malapropisms.  They were profuse enough to warrant an official place in our lexicon.  They were known as “Bushisms.”  “Dubya” once said; “They misunderestimated me.”  Remember his speech on education where he said; "Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?" Good question (poor delivery.) In regard to G.W.B. it may suffice to use a famous “Yogism”(see Yogi Berra): "(He) really didn't say everything (he) said.”

There is nothing like a well-turned mixed metaphor to spice up a conversation. By definition, a mixed metaphor is; “a succession of incongruous or ludicrous comparisons.”

Speaking of “ludicrous”, let’s start with Rush Limbaugh using this mixed metaphor:

 "I knew enough to realize that the alligators were in the swamp and that it was time to circle the wagons." (The Liberals made him say it!)

I think Rush would agree with former Vice-president Dan Quayle when he said:

"Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child."

Now here’s one that Rush may have once used: “He’s not the one with his ass in a noose.”

Here’s one that I may once have said (about Rush): “These hemorrhoids are a real pain in the neck.”

One thing that I can say for sure about Rush and I is that our views are “diabolically opposed.” Fortunately for Rush, we Americans not only speak English but free speech is“incarcerated” into our Constitution.  

Well I’ve been working long and hard on this blog, burning the midnight oil at both ends so I’ll close with this observation by Richard Lederer: "The best malapropisms are those that leap across the chasm of absurdity and land on the side of truth."

What’s my next topic going to be, you ask?  I’m not sure but I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it!

"Unintelligible at any speed"

Back in 1964, I played drums in my first band called “The Changin' Tyde."  Pop music was in a state of “renaissance” and bands were popping up like thunderstorms on a summer day in Nebraska. One of the early classics and a staple of any self-respecting garage band was the song Louie Louie by the Kingsmen. The allure of this song was the cool, repetitive guitar/organ lick and the unintelligible lyrics, which then everyone thought must be “suggestive”. The song was originally written by Richard (no relation to Chuck) Berry and recorded in 1957 by Richard Berry and the Pharaohs.  After the Kingsman made the song a hit, the FBI did an investigation to determine if the lyrics were indeed, “pornographic.”  They played the song at 78 rpm’s and at 33 rpm’s and determined it was “unintelligible at any speed.”  

Here's an except from the website www.history.com:

“Based on outcry from parents who bought into what may have started as an idle rumor, the FBI launched a formal investigation in 1964 into the supposedly pornographic lyrics of the song "Louie, Louie." That investigation finally neared its conclusion on this day in 1965, when the FBI Laboratory declared the lyrics of "Louie Louie" to be officially unintelligible.”

Pop music flourished featuring songs with often unintelligible or indistinguishable lyrics. Back in “our day”, before Karaoke,  we did not have the luxury or instant gratification of Google to ascertain actual lyrics. We had to do some heavy and repeated listening attempting to glean the words to our favorite contemporary hits.  Was Johnny Rivers singing;  “I got a rock in my ammonia and the boogie woogie flute?”  There was no question that Johnny was singing about a  “Secret Asian Man!”

Little did I know but there is an actual term for these bastardized lyrics; it’s called a “mondegreen.” Here’s the description from Wikipedia:

“A mondegreen is the mishearing or misinterpretation of a phrase as a result of near-homophony, in a way that gives it a new meaning.”

The phrase was coined by Silvia Wright when she recalled as a girl, “mishearing” the last line of a 17^th century poem;  “They hae slain the Earl o' Moray, and Lady Mondegreen” became; “ And laid him on the green.”

Jimi Hendrix realized how his own “mondegreen” had "gone viral". You can see a video of him having a laugh at his own expense while performing Purple Haze as he pointed to his bass player and sang;  “s'cuse me while I kiss this guy.”  John Fogerty also famously paid homage to his own creation by singing the following “mondegreen”; "There's a bathroom on the right."  Arguably, one of the most “misheard” lyrics of the last decade was written by Bruce Springsteen and made a hit by Manfred Mann.  Who knew he was saying; “revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night?” (Wrapped up like a what?!)

I recall talking to a guy once who loved the Elton John song, Rocket Man.  We both laughed at his interpretation of the line, “burnin’ out his fuse up here alone,” which he had been singing as “burning off the trees on every lawn”.  E.J. may just be the “king of mondegreens.”  How about Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters where he sings; “some with cankers, some with goiters?” (“sons of bankers, sons of lawyers.”) I’ve always wondered why old Elton, with his English inflection was singing about the star of  “Who’s the Boss”, “Hold me closer, Tony Danza” (count the head lice on the highway?) or about B-b-b- Betty in a Dress (electric boobs and mohair too?)  It all makes sense to me now.

Here are some of my favorite “mondegreens” for your listening pleasure.  (Feel free to sing along.)

From the classic Billy Joel tune, You may be Right: “You made the rice, I made the gravy.”  (A tasty variation.)

Van Morrison sings the opening line of Brown Eyed Girl:  “Hey there, Amigo.”  (For his Latino audience.)

The Monkees:  “Then I saw her face, now I’m gonna leave her.”  (I couldn’t believe her if I tried?)

Fleetwood Mac:  “When the rainbow shaves you clean, you’ll know.”  (Yes, you will know.)

Neil Diamond:   "Reverend blue jeans.” (How hip thou art!)

The Beatles:  “She’s got a tick in her eye, she’s got a tick in her eye-I –I.” That can’t be right, it must be; “She’s got a chicken to ride."  (And she don’t care!)

"The girl with colitis goes by."  (That would be poor Lucy)

Madonna: “Gonna dress you up in nylons.”  (Appropriate lyric for the “material girl”.) 

J. Geils Band: “My angel is a xenophobe. “ (Don’t be afraid if this sounds a little foreign.)

The Rascals:   “You and me and Leslie.”  (Groovin’ threesome.)

Dobie Gray: “Give me the Beach Boys and free my soul..” (You get the drift.)

The Eagles:  “What a nice surprise, when you’re out of ice.”  (“Relax, says the nice man, we are programmed to deceive.")

Well, I guess Huey Lewis was right when he said the Heart of Rock’n’Roll is in “Cleveland” and as the Kingsmen said; “Loueye Loueye, oh bebe, we gotta go now, I said we gotta go now, Let’s Go!!”

Steve E, Reno