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regional humor
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Subject: regional humor From: kendall morse (don't use) Date: 01 Sep 99 - 01:46 PM Click for the 'PermaThread™: List of all joke threads'I would like to swap stories around the theme of regional folk humor (not jokes) tennis anyone? |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bert Date: 01 Sep 99 - 01:57 PM Yonks ago I used to live in Essex, England and was a subscriber to "The Essex Countryside" magazine. One time, they published an article about the Essex dialect that contained a facsimile of a bill that was made out by someone who was boarding a horse for a day. I don't remember the actual prices charged but the items on the bill went something like..... Afechinonim Afeedinonim and... Abringinonimomagen Bert (That the sort of thing you're looking for?) |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: kendall morse (don't use) Date: 01 Sep 99 - 02:34 PM sure thats an example of regional humor. Anyone know any real characters? |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Art Thieme Date: 01 Sep 99 - 05:20 PM My old uncle used to say, "For good luck, but a carrot in your shoe." He also used to say, "To cure a severe limp, remove the carrot from your shoe. He lived in far-southern Indiana---The city of Evansville expanded their zoo by putting a fence around Kentucky. HELLO KENDAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Art |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Sandy Paton Date: 01 Sep 99 - 05:55 PM Hell, Kendall, half of the stories I hear from Kentucky, West Virginia, Missouri, Utah, etc., I'd already heard from you as Maine stories! You guys do spread 'em around, don'tcha. Heard "the bear in the spring" from an Adirondack old-timer at Schroon Lake. Not told as well as you have it on Seagulls and Summer People, though. Check out our recording of Sandy |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: kendall morse (don't use) Date: 01 Sep 99 - 09:52 PM Yes, I've even heard Moose turd pie told as a Utah story !!! good job though!! Hey Art.. I thought that humor link might smoke you out!! Good to hear from you.. one of the most enjoyable workshops I ever got in on was with you at the Hartford Folk Legacy festival.. I have that album of Mormon humor and, it is great stuff.. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Sandy Paton Date: 01 Sep 99 - 10:02 PM Used the wrong HTML thingy. Sorry. That's supposed to read "Folk Humor of the Mormon Country," where the context of the sentence collapses, and I took the cover photograph! Y'know, that whole state could be a National Park! Sandy |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Lonesome EJ Date: 02 Sep 99 - 12:35 AM Sandy, do you know how to keep a Mormon Deacon from drinking all of your beer when you go fishing? Right. You take along another Mormon Deacon! LEJ |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Rick Fielding Date: 02 Sep 99 - 01:44 AM These two Northern Ontario guys are out on the lake, duck huntin' one day. Hours and hours they're out there with no luck at all. Reg -the first one, says to his friend Reg, "whaddaya think the problem is Reg"? Reg scratches his chin and says "either we're just havin a bad day Reg, or we ain't throwin' the dog high enough!" Sorry Kendall Rick |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barbara Date: 02 Sep 99 - 03:32 AM The difference between California and Oregon? In Oregon Moosehead is a beer; in California it's a misdemeanor. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: KingBrilliant Date: 02 Sep 99 - 04:32 AM This must be one of the most small-scope-regional of all jokes. There is a small part (called Whitley) of our medium-sized town (Reading, Berks UK), where people still tend to have a very strong local accent : whereby the phrase 'how now brown cow' comes out as 'hae nae brane cae'. (it is also known as the 'roughest' part of town). Anyway - the joke goes: 'Ah, look at that lovely little tabby cat' 'That cat comes from Whitley' 'How do you know?' 'Because he just said 'Mee-ae'. The joke is HILARIOUS to locals, but completely incomprehensible to anyone else. Kris |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: kendall morse (don't use) Date: 02 Sep 99 - 04:43 AM this could take a nasty turn..I was hoping for a little more class, but, lacking that, I'll settle for whatever the tide washes in. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Roger the zimmer Date: 02 Sep 99 - 04:46 AM There's a Brummie version of Bert's which my grandfather used to quote, started "A for th'oss" (Hay for the horse). Wiser not to open this can of worms or you'll have Steve Parkes and I swopping "Anuk & Eyli" stories which can seriously damage your mental health! E.g. Anuk: "Ow do ships float if them med of iron?" Eyli: "All iron floats, yo' iron bedsted'll float" Anuk throws iron bedstead in the cut, it sinks! "Eyli, yo' tol' me it'd float" Eyli: "Ar, in salt watter!" [story reduced from ten minutes to bare bones to protect the innocent!] Tara a bit Roger
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: kendall morse (don't use) Date: 02 Sep 99 - 05:00 AM this could take a nasty turn..I was hoping for a little more class, but, lacking that, I'll settle for whatever the tide washes in. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bert Date: 02 Sep 99 - 09:16 AM KingBrilliant, That brings back some memories. We lived in Marlow when I was a kid and Dad (We were from London) used to imitate the locals and sat "Hay nay brain cay". When he got back to London though, he said he was surprised at hearing Cockney again; it was all "Aincha, carncha and woancha". Bert. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: catspaw49 Date: 02 Sep 99 - 10:23 AM Rick, I sincerely want to thank you for that story. It goes a long way toward explaining why Jaeger (my weimeraner) won't go around those idiot half brothers of yours, Reg, Reg, and Reg. Cletus thought it was because they had a "kwaire way of talkin'" but now I'm beginning to see it goes a little deeper than that. Thanks. Spaw |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barbara Date: 02 Sep 99 - 02:20 PM Kendall, when you say "class" do you mean "not bawdy" or are you looking for the sort of regional stories where a FOOF of a local farmer can't get the bull to go into the truck. He ties the bull to the hay hoist above the barn loft and hitches the draft horse to the other end. Works fine till the bull's feet leave the ground and then the bull starts bellowing. This makes the draft horse bolt, and the bull shoots up to the roof, rings the pulley housing like a bell, it rips off the roof and on the rapid journey down to hamburgerdom, flattens the truck the farmer was trying to put him in. That kind of story? Or something that plays on local habits and accents; conditions? Like the guy who's died and he's waiting in line for his fate to be determined. He notices that while St Pete is waiving his choices thru, the Devil is sorting his -- some go directly down into the flames and some go in a pile on the side. Having nothing but time, the guy asks Satan what's with the separate pile. "Oh, they're Oregonians. They're too wet to burn," the Devil replies. Blessings, Barbara |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: BeauDangles Date: 02 Sep 99 - 03:26 PM Here's the latest wildlife report from Yellowstone Park. Hikers are warned to steer clear of Grizzly Bears, and to take all necessary precautions. They say that Black Bears are not as dangerous and that the wise hiker must learn to distinguish. First off, they say that all bears are territorial, so hikers should wear little bells when hiking so that the bears can hear you coming. Also, it is suggessted that you carry a cannister of pepper spray for defense. To distinguish between bear spoor, they say that black bears, being primarily herbivores, will have traces of berries and grass in their dung. Whereas grizzly bear dung las little silver bells in it, and smells like pepper spray.... (ducking and running for cover) Beau |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bert Date: 02 Sep 99 - 03:46 PM In Colorado, a Texan is defined as a person who buys a plane and flies west until he gets to The Rocky Mountains. Bert. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bev and Jerry Date: 02 Sep 99 - 11:51 PM what's the difference between Los Angeles and yogurt?,br> Yogurt has an active culture. Bev and Jerry |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: paddymac Date: 03 Sep 99 - 12:10 AM Hopefully somebody can contribute to my continuing edification and tell what a "Brummie" is. It's a new word to me. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Mike in NZ Date: 03 Sep 99 - 12:22 AM Many years ago when I was living in London, it was a native of Birmingham (aka Brum). Don't think it's changed. Mike |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: katlaughing Date: 03 Sep 99 - 12:25 AM Someone from Birmingham, UK, I think? |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: catspaw49 Date: 03 Sep 99 - 01:07 AM Well it ain't a term I'd use to some good ol boy in Birmingham, Alabama, I'll tell you that!
"Hey Brummie, how ya' doin'?" Spaw |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: katlaughing Date: 03 Sep 99 - 01:24 AM Birmingham - The Rough Guide by Si Vinny Birmingham is the motorway service station that people sometimes stop at when travelling between London & Manchester. In the seventies it re-christened itself 'The Second City'; an unfortunate and hollow advertising slogan based purely upon its demographic size. It was and still is a city renowned and ridiculed as ugly. National perception states that it is ugly to look at and furthermore that its inhabitants, 'The Brummies' are ugly to listen to too. The word most commonly associated with the dialect spoken by The Brummies is 'thick'. For a city boasting more canals than Venice and more trees than Paris, it was on all levels unable to compete with the thriving metropolises of London, Manchester and Leeds. A more appropriate slogan would perhaps have been 'The Fifth or Sixth City'. If you require a stereotype, then this is all the information that you will need. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Sourdough Date: 03 Sep 99 - 01:45 AM I have to preface this with a warning. This is a long post but it seems to fit with Regional humor - it is a Southwestern story. The main character is the late Trader Jim Porter. Trader Jim had carried that nickname since he was seven years old growing up on his father's ranch in Bisbee, Arizona where he first showed his ability as a trader. He'd started with a very pretty, clear crystal marble and, after a series of trades with friends, each of whom was pleased that he had received fair exchange, Jim ended up with the pony that he had wanted. After that, Trader Jim became almost one word, like damnyankee. After careers as a mercenary in Mexico, as a movie stunt pilot (All Quiet on the Western Front), a boxer (bantamweight), and then as an extremely successful automobile dealer in Northern California, he returned to the desert country and got a tribal license as a Navajo trader, just outside of Kayenta at Tsegi Canyon. That's where I had first met him. A friendship developed and I used to visit him at the trading post. He enjoyed life among the Navajo but when he reached his mid-seventies he thought it was getting to be time to retire although he hated that word. He bought a small place up in Bluff, Utah, only a quarter mile from where western author Zane Grey had lived and written for a while. Grey used the geography and sometimes violent history of Bluff as the setting for at least one novel. On the other side of Trader Jim's property was a Mormon Church and it is that church that's the center of the story. Although Jim loved the excitement of dealing with people, he was also a loner in the sense that he believed in self-reliance and he placed an extremely high value on it. As a result, his little three acre "ranch" came as close to being self-sustaining as he could make it. He raised a few sheep on some land he set aside for pasturing. They were his source of meat. He had a complicated series of gates so he could move his little flock around from one field to another without any help. He had a good flowing well. He raised enough wheat to feed himself and Caroline, his wife of more than fifty years, and he had a mill to grind the wheat. He also had a flock of guinea hens that roosted all over the property but he knew where they hid their eggs so his breakfasts always featured fresh eggs. After the excitement of running a trading post, I guess it got pretty dull in Bluff. On my visits, Jim told told me repeatedly that he didn't like most of the people in town. His opinion of them was that most were stuffy and smug. Jim was one of those people that even though you may like a lot, you have to recognize their blind spots and prejudices. Jim was very willing to attribute any stuffiness and smugness to Mormonism and this was an overwhelmingly Mormon town. At that time, the people living in Bluff had all been born there, their parents had been born there; their grandparents and their grandparents' parents, too, had all first seen the light in Bluff. Bluff had been founded when Brigham Young had directed a group to go and settle in that area. The settlers had survived drought, and epidemics. They had fought off Indian attacks, been driven from the town and then, six or seven years later had fought their way back. For about fifty years, Bluff had been known as Recapture, Utah. These people were of tough stock but Jim thought they had gotten soft. Whatever the right and wrong of Jim's opinions, Bluff was their town and he was the alien. I'm sure that the fact that he determinedly flamboyant in speech, dress, and action only emphasized his being an outsider. In order for Jim's plan to have a self-sufficient piece of land to work, he needed to fence in his property and he did just that. To understand the emotional meaning of that fence, you have to know that even though this property was a few acres, it was almost in the center of town. On one side, the new fence ran between the edge of Jim's land and the yard of the local Mormon church. Members of the congregation felt that the fence was "a little unneighborly" and a delegation of Elders came to visit Jim. According to Jim, they'd stood around the living room looking very self-important and official. They asked why he was building a fence. Jim felt "it was none of their goddammed business". Rather than saying that, though, he got a little devilish. On the spot, he started making up a story. He told the Elders that he was planning on breeding a new sort of cattle. That got their attention. The story Jim spun went on; "They're goin' to be a cross between buffalo and giraffe." The Elders eyebrows went up. He could see they were hooked. "I figure they'll do real well around here. Buffalo used to be all over this country but they don't do so good when there's a drought and the grass dries up. What I want to do, is cross buffalo with giraffes. A buffalo with a long neck'd be able to feed off tree leaves. That'd help 'em get through any drought." Then came the capper, "I'm goin' to call them Bluffalos in honor of the town where they'll be bred." The eyes of the Elders went wide and Jijm was on a roll. "The problem I've been working on is my breeding stock. I don't know whether I want to cross bull buffaloes with cow giraffes or bull giraffes with buffalo cows." Here he looked serious. "The problem is the mating. If I use a giraffe cow, I've got to get that bull way up in the air. I'd have to put him up on some pretty high stilts. I've pretty much decided that I'll be using a giraffe bull on a buffalo cow. With her underneath the giraffe, I won't have to get her up so far". When he was done, they stood there, dumbfounded. Jim ushered them out the door and told them that as soon as his breeding program had some results, he hoped they'd come back and visit. Jim figured that his yarn would provide enough fuel for speculation around town for a while before it would dawn on all concerned that there was a good chance they'd been "had". What he didn't think was that there would be any more to the story. By a wonderful coincidence, about a week or two later, Jim got a phone call from an old friend in Hollywood. They were going to be shooting a film in Monument Valley which is only about an hour or so away. They would be using a lot of livestock in a cattle drive scene. In addition to the cattle that they'd be bringing up later, they had a small buffalo herd, five or six animals. They needed a place to pasture the buffalo until they were needed. The caller had remembered that his old friend Trader Jim had bought a small place in Bluff and figured maybe he'd board the buffalo for a reasonable price. Jim thought that was a terrific idea!! Thinking fast, Jim said he'd do it for free but there were two conditions. Jim asked if this guy could get a postcard with a giraffe on it. He wanted him to promise to get a card like that and then turn it over to the studio's Graphics Arts Department for airbrushing. He wanted an artist to airbrush some large male genitals onto the giraffe and then send the card, in an envelope, to Bluff as soon as possible. The fellow in Hollywood agreed to the conditions and said the buffalos and the card would be on their way within days. The card arrived several days before the buffalo did and Jim went into Phase Two of his "Get the Elders Project". He dug up the address of an old friend in Kenya, put the altered postcard in an envelope and mailed it off. He'd written a message on the card which he had also addressed to himself in Bluff. The message was, "Your bull giraffe is en route aboard freighter, 'American Enterprise'. Scheduled arrival in LA September 7th. Scheduled arrival in Bluff, September 14th. Best wishes, ...etc." In the letter he enclosed with the card, Jim asked his friend to put a Kenyan stamp on the card and send it back, air mail, as soon as possible. The Post Office in Bluff at that time was an eight foot by eight foot shack. It was also the town's social center. People would arrive midmorning to pick up their mail and stay to talk with the postmistress and with their friends. Jim figured that when that postcard arrived from Kenya, it would set the town abuzz. The movie buffaloes arrived in a big livestock truck and that got the town worked up. It sure renewed interest in Jim's Bluffalo story. Then, the picture postcard showed up at the Post Office! Jim said that by the time it made it into his mailbox, the card must have already spent a week in Bluff. It was dirty and dog-eared from being handled by every interested person in town, and that included the Mormon Elders. When he'd told me this story, he was laughing so hard that his eyes had filled with tears. "It served all them nosy bastards right, thinking, 'The Bluffalos are Coming. The Bluffalos are coming!". The thought of Mormon Elders earnestly trying to explain to their friends the theory and practice of breeding Bluffalos was enough to send Jim off into another storm of laughter. Sourdough |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: JedMarum Date: 03 Sep 99 - 01:47 AM Alabama State Motto: At least we're not Mississippi! Worcester Massachusetts? Well if tey wer to give the nation and enema, that's where they'd stick it in! My 14 year old son and I were visiting Maine from Texas, over one long, beautiful July 4th weekend. We stopped to buy raffle tickets from the Denmark ME Game Warden out in front of the local convenience store and I remarked on the beauty of the Maine weather; "Ah-yup," deadpanned the game warden, " we got two seasons up heah ... wintah, and the foouurth of July!" His dry wit and accent edged delivery have played this regional humor over and over in my mind. but the most important bit of regional humor fro me is a personal comment on lessons learned. In short; I never knew I was a Yankee 'til I moved to Texas! |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: katlaughing Date: 03 Sep 99 - 02:44 AM SD: fantastic as ever! My dad, who lives smack dab in the middle of Mormon country will enjoy that one. The Elders leave him alone. Dan: why're ya pickin' on Wust er? Used to drive through, even called on a client there once, sure it's a milltown but an arsehole of the nation???? Didn't quite know where to put this one, so here is what I read on our local weather report: When thunderstorms are occurring...people should move inside a strong building I am wondering how they'd like us to move in that strong building; round in a circle, dancing the fandango, doing the bunny hop??? |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Sourdough Date: 03 Sep 99 - 02:51 AM One of my favoritite New England stories is of a land survey on the New Hamppshire-Vermont border. The survey had shown that the island that the Buxton family had been farming for two hundred years was actually in New Hampshire rather than Vermont. Being neighbors, Vermonters and New Hampshiremen disapprove of each other on principle and there was some concern on how the Vermonters were going to tell Mr. Buxton that he actually lived in New Hamshire. The solution was just to go out to the farm and tell him. When they got there, the delegation didn't waste any time with small talk. They came right out with the message. "Abner, the land survey shows that you actually live in New Hampshire." Then they braced themselves for the reaction they knew would come. Abner Buxton thought it over, shook his head thoughtfully and then told his neighbors. "That'll be fine. I don't think I could of stood anuther one of them VER-mont wintahs." Sourdough |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: katlaughing Date: 03 Sep 99 - 03:48 AM LMAO!!! And, I cayant get thayuh from heyuh! |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: dwditty Date: 03 Sep 99 - 05:26 AM Bostonians typically have a parochial view of the world, as evidenced by the story of the two little old ladies who took a trip to California. Upon their return, a friend asked them which route they had taken to the west coast, to which they replied, "The one through Dedham." (a western suburb of Boston). Regarding Maine, the Bert & I records were great when I listened to them 35 years ago. I wonder how they have held up over time. DW |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Wolfgang Date: 03 Sep 99 - 05:56 AM click for A Texan's view of the United States . There's serious research behind these and similar (cognitive) subjective maps (I failed to find "A Londoner's view of the North of Britain" and "Ronald Reagan: How he sees the world"). Nearly any person will underestimate distances between points far away from home. There's a kind of mental "Blow Up" of the immediate surroundings compared to abroad. (And I guess this is not restricted to geography) Wolfgang |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: bob schwarer Date: 03 Sep 99 - 07:07 AM For some regional (Florida) goodies, find some Gamble Rogers tapes. Hopefully there are still some available. Bob S. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bert Date: 03 Sep 99 - 01:14 PM An American is a person who owns a power lawnmower, an electric can opener, a TV remote control and an exercise machine. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Date: 03 Sep 99 - 01:27 PM Kris have yu been to Whitley? |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: annamill Date: 03 Sep 99 - 01:37 PM Hahahahahah!! Bert LMAO. Sounds ridiculous, but its true!!! annap |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Cara Date: 03 Sep 99 - 04:51 PM CATSPAW: I saw that you made a reference to the sweet corn festival on another thread and threatened to post something disparaging regarding said festival in this thread. That's dangerous ground, my friend. I know, I know, the humor opportunities at the S.C. Festival (or any event in Millersport or near Buckeye Lake in general, for that matter) but THOU SHALT NOT DISRESPECT SWEET CORN. I am currently in the process of wheedling my mother into Fedexing me a dozen ears of Silver Queen. Sweet corn is an issue near and dear to my heart, and I prefer that it is spoken of with reverence and awe. You would too, if you'd ever had fresh silver queen (not you, Catspaw, as I'm sure you've sampled the delights, but you, the general 'Catter you, who may have been sadly deprived). So again, tread lightly please. Cara, who lives in a city that does not believe in fresh produce and regrets it keenly at times like this |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Sandy Paton Date: 03 Sep 99 - 06:42 PM In Huntington, Vermont, where we used to live, it was said that the only way to savor fresh corn on the cob was to get it really fresh. That means, live right next to the field where your Silver Queen is growing. Start a big kettle of water over the fire, and get it boiling good. Go to the cornfield, pick exactly the number of ears you plan to consume. Run, fast as you can, to the kitchen and don't stumble along the way! Sandy |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bev and Jerry Date: 03 Sep 99 - 06:54 PM Sandy:
Garrison Kiellor did a bit on Prarie Home Companion a few years ago where he talked about putting the kettle of boiling water on a cart with a gas burner below. Then you wheel the cart out to the corn field and bend the corn stalks over plunging the ears into the water even before they're picked. That's fresh corn.
We live in an agricultural county of central California and it's corn season here now. Today is farmer's market day in our town so we are having fresh corn (picked a few hours ago) for dinner very soon.
Yummy! Bev and Jerry |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bill D Date: 03 Sep 99 - 07:02 PM seems to me this qualifies as a 'regional' story...and it's true.. I came to the east coast of the U.S., from Wichita, Kansas several years after my friend Dwain, and thru a series of circumstances, we ended up working on the same folk festival...mostly as the operations crew that puts up tents, etc... well, it was often the case that in order to keep the crew working longer hours, it became necessary to feed them decently...and what better way than to fire up the grill and have nice, hot hamburgers and fixin's...so, on one occasion, Dwain..(from KANSAS, remember!)...was preparing to toss the burgers on the grill...with me standing right there
Dwain: "any special requests?" (Dwain & I both like our hamburgers well-done) (this was all several years before the big E-coli scare and hamburger-cooking rules)
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Fadac Date: 03 Sep 99 - 07:18 PM When I was a youngster in the great pacific northwest, I would wander around and I would see some poor guy working on something. Me: "Whatcha building?" Them: "A rudder for a ducks ass." This seems to be the universal answer to the "whatcha doing" question. -Fadac |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Alice Date: 04 Sep 99 - 12:43 PM This is from an article in today's Billings (Montana) Gazette online, quoting a small part:
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......They played polkas and waltzes with abandon Friday, accompanied on the piano by Harold's wife, Irene. Harold and Marvin don't play together as much as they'd like to anymore, but they did compete together in the International Old-Time Accordion Championship in Kimberley, British Columbia. "We got second," Harold said. "If it hadn't been for the damned judges, we'd a got first." ...... |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barbara Date: 04 Sep 99 - 02:24 PM When a Dalles area farmer won the Oregon lottery a couple years back, one of our local farmers commented "It'd take a farmer to consider those good odds." This may only be funny to farmers, because outside the farming community, most people are unaware of how much gambling goes into the planting and harvesting of crops (and the financing of same). Blessings, Barbara |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: catspaw49 Date: 04 Sep 99 - 02:53 PM Ah Cara dear, I would NEVER say an unkind word about corn!!! Karen would...well, not about corn, but more in the way I eat it. This time of year I maximize my corn eating to the utmost and the fresher it is, the better. But I'll eat anything, even if it's bad corn. One time Denny and I ate 30 ears between us at one sitting...it was positively the BEST either of us had ever had and the next day, the guy was gone!!! Bummer....... Karen's problem is one of "watching and listening." From mid-July through early September, I serve corn at least 4 times a week and we've been known to have it daily. As any true afficionado knows, eating corn on the cob is NOT a neatness contest......what kind of asshole could possibly enjoy it that way? No, the REAL corn eater has the mouth chompin', the juices squirtin', the butter drippin', and the debris flyin'!!! Technique varies, but the overall carnage is the same. Karen wants to put up a barrier around me with a sign that reads, "CAUTION! KEEP HANDS AND FEET AWAY FROM THE MACHINERY!" The season comes on me like a fever and every year I promise her that we'll just have it a few times and every year I'm a liar. The "Corn Fever" takes over and that's the end of my good intentions. And every year at the end of August, I see divorce approaching, but the season ends, I apologize and promise next year will be different...........She knows it won't..........NO ONE is luckier than I to have found this wonderful woman who still loves me every year after sweet corn season...not to mention the other 10 months when I'm just a general embarassment. I think it does sadden her to see Michael into corn and eating it like the Old Man. Daddy's boy for a fact! Spaw - Never plagued with constipation in sweet corn season.
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: YankeeDave Date: 04 Sep 99 - 04:48 PM Some years ago, Tim Sample had a short momologue on a syndicated Sunday morning program. He may still do, and I forget the name or network of the program. One morning in late January or early February he was filmed standing by the harbor in either Rockport or Camden, Maine, two tourist habitats on seacoast Maine. After some pointed comments on Maine life in general and the current lack of tourists, he ended up with, "If yew cain't stay-ynd May-yne wintahs, p'raps yew dun't deserve May-yne summahs." Much of his work is available on cassette or video from such locales as Bookland of Maine. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bill H Date: 04 Sep 99 - 06:28 PM The Texan is bragging about the size of TX to a visiting Israeli. "Hell, I get on a train here and 24 hours later I still haven't crossed the entire state." His visitor is not surprised---"Hell,we have trains that slow too." Bill H. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Margo Date: 05 Sep 99 - 12:56 PM FADAC, your reference to a rudder reminds me:
I used to have a small cafe in the sticks in Southern Oregon. One of my steady customers was a retired cowboy, Bob. I called him Cowboy Bob, though not to his face. After coming in steadily for months, he finally invited me up to his place. Now here I am about 25, and Bob is about 60, and I'm not sure about his intentions, but being adventurous, I went anyway. It was wonderful. He cooked a steak dinner, and then after dinner he taught me to play poker and canasta. He just wanted some company.
Now, in canasta, you can't lay any cards down until you make your initial meld. With two players, it seemed common that one person would meld, while the other would sweat with a handfull of cards, hoping the other person wouldn't go out and stick you with all those points. Whenever I was in that situation, awaiting a card or two to meld, Bob would chuckle and say "Now you've got your tit in a ringer." One day, I'd had enough of that expression, and asked him not to say it. Why the old codger, next time he said, "Well, now you've got your udder in a rudder." We both got a good laugh out of that. Bob had some different ideas. Getting on in years, he talked about not wanting to become unable to take care of himself. He showed me the hillside behind his cabin (that he built with his own hands) and explained that he wanted to put a coffin in the ground with a glass door. When he couldn't go on anymore, he'd stand at the foot, shoot himself, fall back into the coffin the door of which would automatically shut, so he could be on the hillside with a view of the farm. Oh, Bob, you're too much. Hmmmm......I think I'll go call him! Margarita |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Alice Date: 05 Sep 99 - 01:47 PM Margarita, that is spelled "tit in a wringer" (not ringer), as in a wringer washing machine. I used to have a wringer washing machine, and as you put the wet clothes through the wringer to squeeze the water out, it is very dangerously easy to catch other things in the wringer. The longer reference is... "We haven't had so much excitement around here since ma caught her tit in the wringer." - alice in montana |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Margo Date: 05 Sep 99 - 04:57 PM Sorry, folks, for leaving the "w" off of wringer. I knew what I meant,but it does detract from the humor. Dangerous business, tits and wringers. Margarita |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: catspaw49 Date: 05 Sep 99 - 05:58 PM Hey Margo...Can I add that to my cards....Accomplished Tit Wringer? Spaw |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: kendall morse (don't use) Date: 05 Sep 99 - 07:27 PM OK now we are cooking. The response has been great.. thanks mudders. If anyone wants a tape of REAL Maine humor,send for SEAGULLS & SUMMER PEOPLE at Folk Legacy. The stories are authentic, and so is the accent. You may have guessed that Maine humor is my business, and you would be right. Here is one small sample of real Maine humor.. keep in mind that the essence of Maine humor is that which is NOT said. I go back to my home town of Machias Maine on occasion, and I like to sit in a local restaurant and listen to the locals talk. On a recent visit, I was sitting in a back booth, when two young men came in, and they wre discussing the difficulty of finding mates in such a small town. Long discussion... then one said "Hell, it's got so bad, I've ------ every woman in town, except my mother and sister." the other looked hime right in the face and eyes and said "Dont feel bad, you aint missed nothin"." |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: yank Date: 05 Sep 99 - 11:08 PM International Poetry Contest had tie winners. The poems had to consist of 2-4line stanzas, each 2 lines rhyming and had to contain the words Tim Buc Tu. It was a tie, England and Montana. The English version was: I ventured to a foreign land, and gazed upon the awesome sand. A camel caravan came through, destination Tim buc tu. Montana version: Tim and I a hunting went, and found 3 maidens in a tent. They being three and we being two, I bucd 1 and Tim bucd two. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: yank Date: 05 Sep 99 - 11:15 PM International Poetry Contest had tie winners. The poems had to consist of 2-4line stanzas, each 2 lines rhyming and had to contain the words Tim Buc Tu. It was a tie, England and Montana. The English version was: I ventured to a foreign land, and gazed upon the awesome sand. A camel caravan came through, destination Tim buc tu. Montana version: Tim and I a hunting went, and found 3 maidens in a tent. They being three and we being two, I bucd 1 and Tim bucd two. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barry Finn Date: 05 Sep 99 - 11:55 PM I met a sweet old man some time ago that was relating a few stories from his youth. He went on about how he had fallen off the lower yard & was lying spread eagle in a state of semi consciousness & unable to move but aware of what was happening around him. The mate was pointing out to the others standing about how it was uncanny that he had seen someone else fall from the same yard & landed exactly in the same manner. He refered to the mate as a good mate & I asked if he was good why wasn't he helping you instead of discussing your landing. A mean mate would've kicked me until I got up. He then talked about his first mate, who was mean, as a cabin boy & he was caught playing hide & seek on deck forward of the fore mast, officer's territory, the mate caught him hiding & drove his heel into his forehead with all he had. This left the boy reeling for a week & he claimed never to have been right after. But I still had respect for the man, I'm on my way home to England, the 1st time in decades & when I get there I'm gonna pay his gravesite a visit & speak a few words about this mate & get a real good bottle of rum & pour it over him & he stopped the story short & I'm thinking what sort of sailor ritual is this I'm hearing that I've never heard before, he then went on to say he wouldn't pour the rum until after he drank it first. This may be one of those "You had to be there" things. Barry |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barbara Date: 06 Sep 99 - 01:53 AM We had a neighbor who for years ran the chicken farm across the road. A good looking banty sort of guy with boundless energy and kindness, and quite a streak of mischief. Once, when my husband was sitting at Larry's kitchen table soaking up some coffee and conversation after shifting pipe, Wait a minute. Y'all know what shifting pipe means? Irrigation pipe comes in 3" diameter, 40ft. lengths. It has a 18" "riser' (vertical pipe) on one end with a sprinkler head on it, and a tricky little mechanism on the other end that locks the sections of pipe together. So, to shift pipe you pick up these 40 ft lengths of pipe, walk them down the field about 80 ft, and hook em together again by slamming the catch into the previous pipe and then jerking it back. If you don't do this right, when the water comes on, you have a blowout, the pipes come apart and a chunk of your crop washes away along with a lot of topsoil. So, anyway, Mark is sitting there soaking up the coffee and conversation when Larry runs in the door and shouts, "My Gosh, Mark, you better check your pipes! You've got great gouts of water spraying out every 40 ft.!" So Mark slaps down his coffee, dashes out the door, runs across to his field, and low and behold, there is his irrigation system, with great sprays of water coming out of the sprinkler heads every 40 ft, just like it's supposed to be. And then Mark realized that was just what Larry said.
Larry used to hire the local high school kids to catch the chickens for him when it was time to ship them out. This is done at night in minimal light when the chickens are sleeping. One time, as they were finishing up, one of the boys asked him if they could each have a chicken as part of their pay. They were trying to get together a flock to give one of the local families who were having a hard time financially, the boy said.
Blessings,
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Margo Date: 07 Sep 99 - 02:59 PM Ah yes Catspaw, do add tit wringer to your list of credentials on your card. It does have a certain wring to it, don't you think? But it is hard to keep abreast of your many talents. Speaking in broad terms, I'd say you do indeed have a PhD in humor (That's Piled Higher and Deeper). :o) Margarita |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Margo Date: 07 Sep 99 - 03:05 PM That reminds me of a conversation I actually had with my friend Bruce:
M: I've been reading about Paul Revere. Did you know he had sixteen children?
B: You're kidding!
M: No, and he also had a flourishing silversmith business, plus he was very active in the revolution!
B: Well, I'd say he should have taken more midnight rides!
M: Nay, I'd say he took too many! BA DOOM BOOM! :o) Margarita |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bill D Date: 07 Sep 99 - 03:56 PM just remembered a true story my father told... He was a Western Union lineman (dug the hole, put up the poles, strung the wire)from about 1927 to about 1947. This often entailed living for days or weeks in 'outfit' cars on the railroad..(you may have seen some..grey cars with windows and stairs at each end..kind of a cheap, wooden bunkhouse on tracks)...anyway, they had to cook for themselves, just like in Bruce Phillips story. So, one night, they were sitting down to dinner for the usual plain fare...some sort of fried meat, boiled potatoes...etc...when a guy from Texas called to a guy from Arkansas at the other end of the table..."hey, Shorty, pass the spuds.."....well, Shorty got this look on his face and glared at 'Tex'...and admonished him, "Tex, dammit..don't call 'em 'spuds'...call 'em 'taters, whut they aire." |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: kendall morse Date: 07 Sep 99 - 03:59 PM Let's keep this going, I need the material!! A farmer was guiding his herd of cows across a country road, when a young woman, driving too fast, was unable to stop, and, she hit the last cow in line so hard, the old thing was knocked to the ground. The woman got out of the car to apologize, and, as she approached the farmer, the cow gained her feet and went on her way. woman .."Well, I guess I didn't hurt her too bad." farmer.. "No, but if you think you done her any good, I'd be glad to pay YOU." |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Margo Date: 07 Sep 99 - 04:35 PM Here's one from Eastern Europe. My dad was born in Bulgaria, lived there and in Turkey. Once, when out in the country with his dad, they came upon some women in a field. The women were not expecting anyone to come by and didn't have their faces veiled. When the unveiled women saw my dad and his dad looking at them, they panicked, and pulled their skirts up over their heads to hide their faces. They cared not about the men seeing thier BARE bottoms: but OH! To have a strange man see their faces was unthinkable! Margarita, daughter of Max R. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barbara Date: 07 Sep 99 - 04:41 PM Sure, kendall, as long as you give us a cut of the royalties...right? |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Margo Date: 07 Sep 99 - 04:45 PM Oh Kendall, here's one that happened to me:
I was living on a mini farm with my sister in Southern Oregon. We raised goats for show and milk. We had one steady milk customer, Bill. Bill came up to the barn one day complaining about the girl his son was to marry. He looked at me, up and down, and said, "I wish he was marrying you. You're strong, healthy, hard working, smart........it's better than being pretty!" Well, I didn't say anything because I was stunned. This, my friends, is a perfect example of a backhanded compliment! Margarita |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: kendall morse (don't use) Date: 07 Sep 99 - 08:12 PM that's as bad as the yokel who had his first date.. she was sitting on his lap (it wasn't her first date) suddenly, he said "You know, you sweat the least of any fat person I know!" a variation "Say, your're heavier than you look." Royalty?? isn't that some shade of blue?? |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Roger the zimmer Date: 08 Sep 99 - 04:05 AM Kendall, the Geordie (NE England) version of that is a chat up line!: "You don't sweat much for a fat lass" |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barbara Date: 08 Sep 99 - 04:24 AM My M-in-law has handed me a few of these over the years. Here's a couple of her best -- "Barbara, I didn't know fat people looked good in shorts." And one time, when I lost my temper at her (moi?) she said, "Oh, Barbara, do you have to be so premenapausal?". gotta gitta bed, now. tell you another tomorrow. |
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Barbara Shaw Date: 08 Sep 99 - 08:20 AM Billboard on the highway when crossing the state line into Connecticut: Welcome to Connecticut. Dress nicely.
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Subject: RE: regional humor From: Bill D Date: 08 Sep 99 - 11:00 AM and my Daddy used to say..."I sure wish I was rich, 'stead so damn good-lookin'" |
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