Posts tagged ‘bear’
Back (apologies for my handwriting!)
The text of the postcard is
Recently I wrote a knock-knock joke … So far everyone I have told the joke to says it stinks. I figure it’s past due:
Bananas foster who?
Bananas foster their hopes and dreams …
Work has been stressing me out lately – I’ve been working on this particular problem for a while and just can’t seem to get it solved. Trying very hard all day to solve a coding problem leads to very weird thoughts – like this short short story.
Punny Bear and Rymm Shaut
In 1931 the Ringling Brothers Circus was having a bad year. Everyone was having a bad year, but the Ringling Brothers did something nobody else thought to do – hire a bunch of alcoholic scientists to solve the problem.
The scientists were sent to a cabin and given three key items:
Booze. Lots of booze.
A year later the Ringling Brothers’ introduced Punny Bear. The world’s only talking bear.
Oh yeah, and when he does talk, it’s a pun.
An audience member would be invited from the crowd to come talk to Punny Bear. The master of ceremonies would have the audience member tell about some of their woes. The M.C. promised the bear wouldn’t attack, and would actually help.
The audience member would pore out their soul to Punny Bear. The bear would then stand up, look slowly around the crowd and say,
“I can’t bearrrrrrr it.”
The crowd ate it up. Old ladies cried, children giggled, middle-aged men smiled knowingly. This doesn’t make sense, but it happened.
After a few years the crowd got bored with the one-liner bear. They needed more. The alcoholic scientists had, on their own time, trained a monkey to do a rim shot. They reluctantly sold the monkey to the Ringling Brothers, who then claimed the monkey was Swedish and named ‘Rymm Shaut.’
A few years after that, Rymm Shaut and Punny Bear were missing.
It is believed they fell in love, got married, had plastic surgery, and now can be seen every week night as the bitter old married couple known to most as David Letterman and Paul Shaffer.
So, A Bear and a Kid Walk Into a Bar
When I was in kindergarten, first and second grades my family lived in Alaska. This provided us with a lot of unique memories, and one of them came on a particular camping trip.
Before you were allowed to find your site and get set up, you had to stop by a park ranger type area to do some things. In at least one of these information/check-in areas, they had a TV on with a video playing about ‘bear safety,’ among other things. What do you do if you run into a bear, especially a female brown bear with kids? Find religion. The videos had some other suggestions, but I think my suggestion is as good as any.
When we went camping it was a lot of fun. The cold weather in the mornings, sleeping on the ground, the constant thought of bears – I loved it. I loved it so much that I opted to sleep in the car.
I actually did really enjoy camping. But I’m nobody’s fool (a car is far more comfortable).
One night, located in my luxurious backseat of Margerie the Mini-Van (other Stanley family cars have been Nancy the Volvo and Yoda the Toyota), I realized I needed to use the bathroom. I tried to see if I could hold off, but no, I couldn’t.
I snuck out of the car and closed the door as quietly as possible.
I started sneaking toward my parents tent – not wanting to wake up everyone, just my Mother (who else would I expect to be my personal bathroom expedition leader?).
Finally I made it to my parents tent, where my Mom was inside.
She was awake.
And pretty sure that the smartest bear ever was slowly unzipping the flap for the tent she and my father were in.
Man I love camping!