"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

A permanent reminder of a temporary feeling...

As I pulled into the parking space at the gym I was mildly irritated by the bumper sticker on the car in front of me.  It was a blue Bush – Cheney bumper sticker (circa year 2000).  Giving the owner of this vehicle the benefit of the doubt, I thought, maybe it just won’t come off.  It’s a “carttoo” – a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling, as Jimmy Buffett described in his song of that title.  At least that “carttoo” was valid for 8 years.  The Romney/Ryan “carttoo” I saw recently represented a ship that had long sailed (and eventually sunk.) I’d use some duct tape to cover that one up if it would not come off!  In the spirit of bipartisanship, I would also suggest that all Obama “carttoos” be removed by 2016 as well.  

There is no doubt that the profusion and acceptability of “body art”, (including piercing), has been steadily increasing over the years.  In our celebrity driven society, we only to have look as far as our sports figures and rock star role models to see how “ink” has been embraced.   Arms, legs, backs, chests and shoulders are now seen as canvases for increasingly intricate artistic designs.

 “She was no Marine back from the Philippines

She was their pride and joy, their incarnation.

Her parents viewed the chief

With shock and disbelief

Looking for some other explanation……

It's a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling.”

Jimmy Buffett

Remember when the only people who had tattoos were your grizzled old uncle who had been in the Navy who proudly sported an anchor on his forearm,  black leather clad bikers or prison inmates, showing their gang  affiliations? 

At the gym, I contemplated the proliferation of “body art” as it was on full display.  Three young dudes attached to iPhones and ear buds next to me all had colorful calf tattoos that looked like they might have been replicas of the ceiling at the Sistine Chapel. Then there were a number of young women with  “roses on shoulders and kittens with whiskers”, (sung to the tune of My Favorite Things) and the obligatory “tramp stamps”.  (Sorry, though I was at the “Judgement Free Zone,” that’s the moniker that has become part of our modern lexicon.) Despite the new innovations in laser tattoo removal, tattoos are permanent reminders in everlasting Technicolor.

It may seem that Americans can be separated into the  “haves” (tattoos) and the  “havenots” (tattoos) but age, gender and economics don’t seem to figure in the equation.   Like many things these days, parents only have so much influence or control over their children’s wardrobe or their dermatological presentation.  I recently heard a father of a 19-year-old girl say, “ I tried everything to convince my daughter not to get a tattoo.  I even offered her $500 if she would forgo the ink.” Nice try, Dad.   Instead of her being $500 richer, she was out $500 bucks and sporting a fresh, new colorful leg design. 

My wife and I were walking downtown on a warm summer day and we passed a “mature” woman of a certain age who had too many sagging and wrinkly tattoos on her too exposed areas.  We each had the same thought.  We wished we could have taken a picture of this to illustrate (no pun intended) why one might think twice about their youthful decision to get tattoos.  What was once (maybe) a rose had become a wilted head of cabbage that was destined for the compost heap and what was once (perhaps) a whimsical butterfly was now a horrific dragon-like vision in black and blue, from in a bad dream.   Like with carpentry, it’s a good idea to “think twice and ink once.”  You don’t want to have “tattoo regret” as in this tattoo:  “No Regerts”  

Many of us tolerant and evolved types accept body art as “Live and Let Life” (as I saw on one tattoo fail.) However, unless you are Mike Tyson, the neck, head and face seem to be the final  frontier of socially acceptable  permanent designs. Call me old fashioned, but I have yet to see a neck tattoo that I would call “tasteful” no matter how artistic it was.   A tasteful neck tattoo might be considered an oxymoron.  Here's one I like:

One word of caution before getting that tattoo:  Be sure to check spelling and grammar. 

 I “belive” they were going for “Believe”.

"Never is an awefully long time.”  (This Awe inspiring bad spelling is forever.)

“My mom is my angle”  (90 degrees of separation?)

Why fight it, I might as well jump on the “ink bandwagon” and get a tattoo.  After all,

“you only live ones!”  Oops, let me rephrase that; ” you only life once.” 

   

Steve E. Reno

Funny business....

No one likes to get behind a school bus when they are late and in a hurry.  One day I was following a septic system pumping truck (at a safe distance) with fancy script lettering on the back that read:  “The Stool Bus”.  (Thankfully, it did not make any stops for pick-ups or drop-offs!) I always love a good euphemism!

We all appreciate a clever or funny business name and now when I see one (like everyone else with a cell phone), I take a picture of the sign. Last week I took a picture of a pickup truck displaying this handy man’s business name:  Ken-Do All.   (Nice one, Ken!)  I thought, if Ken is booked up he just says, “No Ken-Do.”  So I found myself singing the old Hall and Oates classic; “I can’t go for that, no – oh –oh – No Ken-Do.”

Those in the unfortunate but necessary  “port-o-potty” business are especially inventive when it comes to catchy names for their products.  In New England, we have the infamous Blow Bros. whose portable toilets proudly state:  
 “We’re #1 in the # 2 business.”

 Honorable mentions in the category of “port-o-potty” business names go to:

“Johnny-On-The-Spot” and  “Call-A-Head”.   In addition I’m sure this company would be glad to be included in this list:  “Tanks A lot”.

 

My wife has particular aversion to hair salons with “cutesy” names, so I’m always looking for subtle, yet descriptive salon names.   Here are some examples of ones that are “punny” but would not pass the muster of acceptability (or good taste):

Sheer Lock Combs  (This could work if next door was an electrical supply company named Watts & Sons).

Curl Up and Dye  (This might be good if they were next to a skateboard shop named “Holy Rollers.”)

Would you go to either of these places to get your hair done; Turn Your Head and Coif or Cubic Hair?

I used to think myself quite clever when I suggested a good name for a take out restaurant serving cuisine from India might be; “Curry In A Hurry”.   (I soon found out that it was the name of a real restaurant!)

When it comes to fast food joints, the names tend to be more whimsical.  Here are some (real life) tasty examples of excellent fast food joint names:

Lord of the Fries (Why are all the employees young boys?)

Pita Pan (Why are all the employees young Middle Eastern boys and why is a Wendy's right next door?!)

Hindenburger  (Flame broiled Burgers). (Eat here too often and you’ll look like a …..fill in the blank.)

And my personal favorite: Eatie Gourmets.  (Owned by a guy named Steve.)

“Let’s do Chinese tonight.  Let’s try that new place…”

Moon Wok (M.J. might say; “that name is bad, it’s bad, you know it, it’s bad.”)

Wok on Water (A miraculously satisfying food experience with a great river view.)

Nin Com Soup (Right next door to Me Sew, a fabric store.)

Wok and Roll (Stir fry and sushi!)

Wok Around the Clock (Obviously, open all night.)

When I want a different breakfast cuisine I head down to:

I Feel Like Crepe (Let’s hope not, after eating there.)

For a fun night of tacos, salsa and margaritas, how about a trip to Tequila Mockingbird? (Novel idea!)

When you need a landscaping service, why not call Lawn Order? (Give Sam Waterston a call.)

When Mother’s Day rolls around, don’t hesitate to visit Florist Gump.  (Would you like a box of chocolates with your flowers?)

When you need a reputable company to clean your house or office, call the Boss:

 Spruce Spring Clean. (They arrive in a pink Cadillac with New Jersey plates.)

Need a plumber?  Give the Drain Surgeons a call. (It’s not rocket surgery!)

“Hello, I’m calling from Rex Carr’s Driving School.  I need a body shop, who do you Wreck-a-Mend?”

On the subject of cars, here’s my pick for best used car dealer name: Boris’ Car Loft. 

If I lived in San Francisco, I’d take my car to be cleaned at:

Baywash (Please don’t steal the David Hasselhoff or Pamela Anderson cardboard cut-outs.)

And how about fast food on wheels?  Here are 2 great (real life) food truck names:

Jurassic Pork.  (Try the Fred Flintstone brontosaurus ribs!)

I Dream of Weenie (“I wish there was a good place to grab a hot dog….”  Wish granted!)

There is nothing more satisfying than becoming a doctor or dentist and hanging your shingle, announcing your private practice. Locally, we have 2 dentists with great professional names.  We have both Dr. Swallow and Dr. Toothaker. 

Imagine how proud Mr. And Mrs. Patient were when their son finished Medical School and officially became, Dr. Patient! 

See you soon for some more:

Steve E. Reno

"When the time is right, will you be ready?"

364 days a year, it is safe to say that we all dislike the intrusive interruptions of ads, be they TV ads, radio ads, website ads, spam e-mails or billboards.  Then on the one day of the NFL championship, we can’t get enough of them. Many folks now watch the Super Bowl, not for the football game, but for the commercials, which given the hype, never fail to disappoint. Not since the last presidential campaign has such an excessive amount of (Corporate) money been wasted.

There have been many memorable ads and ad campaigns over the years, which included clever jingles or catch phrases that have withstood the test of time, e.g. Tony the Tiger bellowing;
 “They’re G-R-E-A-T or M & M’s claiming that; “They melt in your mouth, not in your hand.”  

I have to wonder about the longevity of some of our “modern” ads, like 2 claw-foot bathtubs on a hill, talking geckos, camels, pigs and talking baby online investors, to name a few.

 

Now there are some ad campaigns that I really dislike and that always elicit a negative comment.  (See my previous blog, “Where’s the dislike button?”) The “mayhem man” is a prime example. In this case I dislike it so much I can scarcely remember which insurance company employs the mayhem man scare tactic.  (I’d like to send the Jolly Green Giant or Mr. Clean over to push him down the stairs one more time.)

Maybe it’s just me, but I find the Direct TV “get rid of cable” commercials, especially annoying. “When you pay too much for cable, you feel down. When you feel down you stay in bed. When you stay in bed they give your job to someone new. When they give your job to someone new he has a lot to learn. When he has a lot to learn mistakes are made. And when mistakes are made you get body slammed by a lowland Gorilla.

Don’t Get Body Slammed by a Lowland Gorilla.”

My response: “When you watch a Direct TV ad, you get annoyed.  When you get annoyed, you throw things at your TV. When you destroy your expensive flat screen TV, you can’t watch cable or Direct TV. When you can’t watch cable or Direct TV, you have to read a book.  When you read a book, you get smarter.  Don’t buy cable, Direct TV or The Dish Network. Be smarter.”

Commercials for new drugs with cryptic names that have side effects that seem much worse than the chronic condition they are meant to assuage are especially uncomfortable. “Common side effects include:

Dizziness, headache, nausea, dry mouth, constipation, diarrhea, heartburn, fainting upon standing, excessive bleeding, shortness of breath, insomnia or seizures.”

“Stop taking (new cryptic drug name) and call your doctor (or any doctor!) if you experience: Unusual changes in behavior, thoughts of suicide, stroke, heart-attack or sudden urge to gamble.” 

 I think most of us agree that we’ll just stick with our joint pain or restless leg syndrome, thank you. 

Local commercials, especially ones involving car dealerships starring the owner with the bad accent and goofy antics, should be banned.  (That goes for furniture stores, as well.) I’m sure you all have your local favorites.  In New England we have Ernie Boch, (and Ernie Boch Jr.) “Come on down!”   We now have the owner of the local Toyota dealership pronouncing his business as “Toyoter of Potsmuth”. 

Car commercials in general are much too frequent and often misleading. Lease a ($50, 000) car for only $99 a month. (How much due at signing?!) Why not buy your wife a ($60,000) luxury SUV for Christmas?  Wrap it up with a big bow and put it in the driveway.  Not too shabby.  How about the car commercial where son comes home and finds the house empty while his parents steal his car and drive away?  “He’ll be fine”, the father says. (Home Alone, the commercial.) 

Sappy jewelry ads, with dim lighting and saccharine music (every kiss begins with Kay) are also cringe worthy. Do we really care whether “he went to Jared?!” It is uncomfortable to watch the commercial with the (Kay) couple riding out a thunderstorm in their woodsy cabin. When lighting strikes the woman seeks comfort in the man’s arms. “I’m right here”, he coos, “and I always will be.”  Out comes the necklace and up comes our lunch.

I dislike the ads for hot dogs with songs that although are sung in English, sound like they are being sung in a fictitious, Game of Thrones language. 

Why is it that ads for any product having to do with the cleanliness of our posteriors always sound better when the person is speaking in a British accent?  Talking about “bum wipes” seems acceptable when delivered by Cherry, in her perfect British accent. Have you seen the hilarious ad for great product, 

“Poo Pourri”?  Only a woman (sitting on a toilet) speaking with a perfect upper class, British accent could pull this off.

And my personal, most offensive ad: Goya’s ad featuring a big, heaping pot of red beans that the family is salivating over in anticipation.  New rule, Madison Avenue: No bean ads!  (Bean-O gas prevention ads are ok though!)

Stop reading this blog and call your doctor if you experience nausea or feel compelled to gamble.

Steve E. Reno

The names have been changed (to protect the innocent)…

By:  B. Moore Phunny

A friend of mine said that he’d been following my blog and enjoyed it but he suggested, “you could even be more funny.”  Hmmm, I thought, good name and good idea for a blog! 

I was reminded of a Simpsons episode that opens with Homer and Bart watching PBS and Homer yells: “Stupid TV- be more funny!”  It’s hard to "B. Moore Phunny"  than the Simpsons. I always love the recurring prank where Bart calls Moe’s Tavern asking to speak to “Al Coholic” or “Bea O’Problem. “

One of most entertaining shows on the radio is Car Talk, with “Click and Clack, the Tappet” brothers. (Tom and Ray Maggliozzi.) They love to laugh and their laughs are infectious.  They close every show with dozens of creative and hilarious names for their radio show staff, some of the more memorable of which are: Chief Legal Counsel, "Huey Louis Dewey" of the law firm, “Dewey, Cheetham and Howe”, customer care representative, “Haywood Jabuzoff”  and Chief Accountant, "Candace B. Rittenoff." (Read them all at: www.cartalk.com)

My appreciation for amusing names started at a young age.  My grandfather (who we affectionately called “Dan Dan”) was a great prankster and joker.  (We knew “Dan Dan’s”  brother as “Uncle Snoozer.”) We would pass a large nursery/garden center each time we went to my grandparents’ house.  The company sign read: Leonard Dunno Nurseries.  Whenever “Dan Dan” saw that sign he’d say, “Leonard dunno nothin’ ‘bout nurseries.”  We’d both have a good laugh at that and it never got old.  He also delighted in calling me “Icabod” (I’m not sure why).  I know that “Dan Dan” would have been a big Car Talk fan.

We’ve all seen real names for which we think that parents should be tried in a court of law under “cruel and unusual punishment.” For example, Mr. and Mrs. Dover are anticipating the birth of their baby boy.  Should the name "Benjamin" even be a consideration?!  In fact, there are many last names (like Butz) or first names (like Seymour) that should be handled with care. Consider the impact of names of people running for public office.  I saw a ballot with guy named Richard White, running on the Republican ticket… (A Rich White Republican, perfect!).  On a similar note, if you have a last name that is synonymous with a famous product made by Oscar Meyer, you might think twice about running for political office.  (And certainly, if you (Anthony) do get elected, try to refrain from “sexting!”)  

Growing up, my kids loved hearing the stories of my childhood friends with nicknames like:  Juni, Moo Moo, Fuzzy and Barney.  (Nicknames have a tendency to stick for life, like Gorilla Glue.)  After 40 or more years, I located one of these old school friends on Facebook, sending him a message that read, “Moo Moo – it’s me Steve!”  Likewise, I would enjoy the nicknames and fun names of my kids’ school friends.   One day I ran into one of my son’s friends who was affectionately given a nickname that was a euphemism for part of the female anatomy, (a la the famous Seinfeld episode.)  I could remember his last name but could not conjure up his real first name. So I said, “Mr. Armisan, how are you!”  So it goes, with nicknames. 

Naming pets is especially fun because you can get as creative as you like and your pets don’t seem to mind.  When I’m out walking my dog, I run into people I see often and I usually remember their dog’s name but not the owner's name. I once called a woman “Lily” and as she walked away, I was embarrassed by the realization that Lily was the dog’s name!  Pet names and human names can get confusing.  I once had a cat, (which was out of character for me) and I named him “Mr. Bones.” On one occasion I had to take him to vet. I brought him up the young receptionist and she queried, “Name please.” Without hesitation, (and in all seriousness), I replied, “Mr. Bones.” The girl looked up at me with disdain and said with an unmistakable irritability, “Your name, not the cat’s name.”  And so it goes with pet names. 

If you have a potentially funny last name and survive your adolescence unscathed from ridicule and humiliation, you think you’re home free, right?

Then you meet your soul mate and decide to tie the knot and put your announcement and picture in the paper to share with the world. Consider some of these (real) wedding announcements: (Imagine Jay Leno delivering these and they will “B. Moore Phunny!”)

“Maureen E. Hooker and Steven D. Traylor were united in marriage. “

(The Traylor- Hooker wedding.)

“Mandy R. Poore to marry Warren L. Sap.”

 (The Poore-Sap wedding.)

“A summer wedding is planned for Shelby Warde and her fiancée Joe Looney.”

(The Looney-Warde wedding.)

“Stacey Sharpe and Jason Payne announce their engagement.”

 (The Sharpe-Payne wedding.)  

“Crystal Butts and Levi McCracken exchange vows.”

  (The Butts-McCracken wedding.) 

Now that I’ve whetted your appetite for funny names, check out some of the many Internet lists.  You can start with “A”, (first name Anita, last name Bathe) and work your way up through “L”, (first name Lucy, last name Furr) all the way to “X”, (X. Benedict.) 

One final question; are you Gladys Overwith?

Steve E. Reno

An (oxy)moronic tale....

One of my goals for starting a blog was for it to be seriously funny but I thought that would be an oxymoron. Now who doesn’t like a good oxymoron now and then?   By definition, an oxymoron is:  A figure of speech in which incongruous or seemingly contradictory terms appear side by side, a compressed paradox.

Did you know that the plural that term is “oxymora”?  So if you use the term “oxymorons” than you may be exactly wrong!

Now there are a few more things that I learned about oxymora.  I first went to the king of linguistic literary trivia, Richard Lederer.  (He refers to himself as: "The Wizard of Idiom," "Attila the Pun," and "Conan the Grammarian.)  This guy is one of my favorites as he wrote an entire book dedicated to puns titled: Get Thee To A Punnery.” It should be noted that oxymora can come in the form of single compound words like “bridegroom” or they can be combinations of opposite words like “wicked good”, (a classic New England term used on a daily basis!) 

Whole sentences can also create oxymoronic humor. Here’s a classic example by 
Rodney (“I get no respect”) Dangerfield, who died Oct. 5, 2004. 

 We sleep in separate rooms, we have dinner apart, we take separate vacations. We're doing everything we can to keep our marriage together.

Another linguistic hero and champion of irreverent humor was George Carlin, who died on June 22, 2008.  Remember his bit about the 7 words you can’t say on television?  Thanks to HBO, that taboo has sailed. (Now that was a good example of a mixed metaphor, and I never metaphor I did not like, but we’ll leave that for another blog.) 

How about this famously clever George Carlin oxymoron?

 "How is it possible to have a civil war?"   (Or a “Holy War?”)

So I wondered, could I write a terribly good story using as many oxymora as possible? 

(Note: It will help if you picture George Carlin delivering this story; it will be more amusing.)

A Damned Good Story

Jeanne Poole was a student teacher and her course was speechwriting.   She primarily used Microsoft Works to prepare the final draft of her lectures. Each lecture started with the words: “Now then, let us begin.”  Ultimately she hoped to break through the old boy network to one day pursue a career writing press releases.

One night she ate a number of disparate things in random order.  Soon afterward she got a gentle turbulence in her stomach, which got increasingly worse. She decided her only choice was to drive herself to the hospital. The anxious patient ran out to her Dodge Ram pickup, (which she had bought sight unseen.) Turning a blind eye to the weather, she drove off at a deliberate speed and faced the inevitable possibility that she might have a crash landing, leaving her fatally injured. If she went off the road, she hoped that her truck would only receive minimal front-end damage that would not cost her a small fortune. She did not want to be found missing or floating to the bottom of a pond. She hoped that she would not run into anyone she knew as she was wearing loose tights under her tight slacks. That would be pretty ugly! 

She felt that her malaise might be a common abnormality but then again, it may have been food poisoning from either the boneless ribs or fresh frozen jumbo shrimp she had for dinner the previous night.  She was clearly confused, as she had made the deliberate mistake of eating a cold hotdog with hot chili sauce for breakfast, which she had done countless numbers of times before.  This was a new tradition that she wished she had skipped! She thought she could at least make it to the Mobil Station if she needed a bathroom.  But there was nothing much left in her system.  It was almost exactly the same thing that had happened to her last time she ate some bad turkey ham.  Was it bad judgment or merely bad luck, she wondered?

She finally reached the hospital, which was one of her least favorite places.  She had a love hate relationship with all things medical. As she waited she thought to herself, “this is another fine mess I’ve gotten myself into.”  She went over to the water cooler and used of those little plastic glasses to get a drink.  She felt as if she was a low priority and if she was able to get seen in less that 4 hours it would be a minor miracle.  She was surprised to be called after a brief wait, which was rarely done and examined by a young doctor, who turned out to be a sensitive guy.   He gave her even odds that her digestive system had an uninvited guest and that he was almost certain that the ultimate remedy was doing nothing.  He prescribed a wholesome yogurt smoothy and rest, which would be a relaxing exercise.  

She left the E.R. with a bittersweet feeling of being poorer but relieved.  As she came to a rolling stop at the intersection, she tuned in her favorite soft rock station on the radio and blasted  “Happy” by Pharrell, which was destined to be an instant classic!

I hope you’ll say; “wicked good story, Steve E. Reno!”