Hey, COVID lockdown, nothing to do but EITHER clean up after myself, OR post a long LONG story on the HangOut.
(Y'all KNOW me well enough to know which side wins, ain'a?)
First, a joke which MUST be about a hundred years old, since it's about a Roaring Twenties mobster and his chorus girl sweetheart.
He hands her a big box, and says "Her ya go, Tootsie! A token of my affection!"
She squeals with delight at the fur inside.
"Oh, Rocky! A genuine mink stole!"
To which he replies "I don't know if it's genuwine MINK, but I kin guarantee that it's STOLE!"
And now, a story of Christmas Past:
The Late Great Irene, back when she was alive, HATED to go grocery shopping.
Didn't bother ME at all. So, one Christmas, I took a big brown paper grocery bag, cut it open, crumpled it, dampened it, formed it into a dragon's head, installed battery operated light up eyes, mounted it on a board like they use for trophy deer, and attached a poem about "baggin' a dragon for my Lady Fair".
Didn't COST much, but Irene hung it on the living room wall, and bragged to any and all visitors that "ANY man can walk into a mall with a credit card, and come out with diamonds and furs, but a gift from MIKE is the only one like it in the WORLD!"
And more recently, after Mary and I had met, we knew each other well enough to know we could talk about our beloved dead
without triggering feelings of jealousy. She told me, and ven showed me, some of the art work Chuck had produced. I let her stand on one of the rugs Irene had woven, showed pics of other stuff. Told her about the paper dragon.
She said something about furs would be OK with HER, but not vitally necessary to continuing.
So, one day, I spied a fur coat, very cheap, at a rummage sale. Snapped it up, hid it in the back of my closet, and, from time to time, would remark that perhaps it was unwise of me to have MENTIONED a mink coat, in one of my e-mails, since she MIGHT print that out and sue me for "palimony".
Then, when she was busy in another room, I brought it into her place, hung it on the door so she could not MISS seeing it.
(Did I ever mention that she has a delightfully melodious laugh??)
And I got her permission to take a picture of her, and post it right here, on the HangOut.
She says the fur is probably NOT mink, probably some weasel called a "stone marten", but the joke is just as funny to us.
Lovely story Mike! and happy new year (it nearly is here).
I hadn't heard of a Stone Marten (aka Beech Marten) before (I have seen Pine Marten on nature docos).
Some interesting facts here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beech_marten#Car_damage
Edited by - Ciao on 12/31/2020 00:20:16
Mike, I bet there is never a dull moment when your around and that’s a good thing.
Thank you, for sharing. Brad
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