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Favorites from the newspaper column (Archive page two) Tortoise and snail in a foot race | Robinson Caruso and Thursday bet the goats Who wants prenatal kindergarten? | A short history of the American Revolution Once there was a snail who challenged a tortoise to a race. "Is this going to be another demented fairy tale?" asked the tortoise. The snail shrugged and laid out a grueling 20-foot course that ran straight as an arrow between two large bushes, then he laid out the rules. "First, you can only run on one foot." "That's ridiculous," the turtle told him. "You were expecting something else?" the snail replied. "Anyway, I have only one foot, so it wouldn't be fair if you used more." The turtle thought it over and agreed, fairness being one of his best points. "Second, I get a 12 hour head start," the snail said. "But even you can crawl 20 feet in 12 hours!" the turtle protested. "Yes, but I'll probably dally along the way, like the rabbit did," the snail assured his opponent. The turtle remembered well his race with the hare, memory being another of his strong points, and so agreed to this condition. "Three, the loser stands drinks for the winner," the snail said. "Oh, of course," agreed the turtle, sure he would win and at any rate even surer the snail could not drink much. The two animals went into training and word of their contest soon spread through the forest. Crowds gathered at the training camps and wagering began in earnest. The handicappers saw the race as a dead heat and enthusiasm filled the air. The turtle trained with an aardvark and two giraffes ... "Now just a minute," cried the turtle. "An aardvark?" All right, an armadillo and two giraffes. The armadillo set a grueling schedule of roadwork, weight lifting, and calisthenics, and the giraffes kept the turtle focused on his task. "How do they do that?" asked the turtle. They kept threatening to step on him if his mind wandered. "Just wondering ..." Meanwhile, the snail was handled by three lunatics who had escaped from a nearby asylum, this being in the days before political correctness and general enlightenment. "I might have guessed," sighed the turtle. The snail trained by dining on rotting lettuce leaves, sipping champagne, and partying all night with beautiful women. "How crazy are these lunatics?" wondered the turtle. "I think I'm getting the short end of some stick here." "Shut up or we'll step on you," the giraffes told him. So the turtle toiled and the snail partied and when the great day arrived the course was lined 10 deep on both sides for its entire length with animals craning their necks (those who had necks) to get a look at the rivals. The turtle arrived first, threatened constantly by the giraffes and harangued by the armadillo. He threw off his robe, loosened up, and poised himself for the start. The snail was carried to the starting line by several gorgeous young ladies, who set him lovingly on the ground. He tossed off a glass of champagne, blew the girls a kiss, and waved his antennae at the cheering crowd. "How come he's the favorite?" wondered the turtle. "I've worked and been threatened and taken this all very seriously, and he's just blown it off." "What can I tell you, Big Guy?" asked the hare, who had been designated official starter. "I was the favorite, too. I think the masses go for lifestyle rather than seriousness. Now, let's recap the rules ..." The turtle listened intently as the hare went over the rules, then said, "I understand. Let's get on with it." "Me, too," said the snail, who was perched on the top of the turtle's shell. "What the ..." said the turtle. "You can't do that!" "Nothing in the rules about it," the snail replied. "I ought to know, because I made them up. Come on, rabbit, fire the starting gun, I'll ride until Mr. Seriousness here gets tired, then I'll hop down and cross the finish line and he'll have to stand the drinks." The girls cheered and shouted, "Go, Boom Boom, go!" "Boom Boom?" asked the turtle, craning his neck in a vain attempt to see the snail, then the hare's gun went "Boom-boom" and the turtle lowered his head and began to plod toward the finish line. The crowd cheered, the giraffes craned their necks over the throng to remind the turtle they would step on him, the snail waived his antennae, and the girls handed him tiny goblets of champagne. At the five-foot mark the turtle was leading by his neck and half his shell but of course could not pull away. The halfway point passed in the same way and at 15 feet the turtle came to a stop. "I don't care," he said to the giraffes. "I'm beat. I'll just take five here." "That's okay, I'm a little logy myself from all that champagne," the snail told him. The turtle panted and wheezed and rested, and no amount of threatening from the giraffes could make him move. They finally gave up in disgust and left with the armadillo to train a centipede. The crowd waited with anticipation as the turtle rested, then they too left, except for the hare, the girls, and the lunatics. The turtle finally got his second wind, lumbered across the finish line with the sleeping snail on his back, was declared the winner, and found himself surrounded by the adoring girls, who ignored the snail. "What happened?" asked the snail. "I had it all." "Fame is fleeting," explained the hare as he flipped the snail into his mouth, "but escargot and champagne are forever." Copyright 2000, Robert A. Markwalter Once a sailor named Robinson Caruso was washed from his ship during a storm and swept onto the beach of an island. He lay exhausted, then picked himself up and began to explore his new surroundings. A day of tramping through jungle and swamp convinced him he was alone and he sat on the beach and wept. "Need a hanky?" he heard someone asked as a crisply laundered handkerchief was thrust into his face. Robinson Caruso turned to find a small, wiry man whose smile revealed but a single tooth in his mouth. Robinson took the hanky, wiped his nose, and asked, "Are you real?" "It's your story," the wiry man shrugged. "If a figment meets your needs, then I'll be a figment." "No, no!" cried Robinson. "You are real! You will be my boon companion and I will call you Thursday Afternoon at Four O'clock, for that is precisely the time we met." "My name is Ben Gunnysack," the man told him. "But like I said, it's your story." So Robinson and Thursday Afternoon at Four O'clock - whose name was quickly shortened to Thursday - set about building a small hut to shelter them from the sun and rain. They captured wild goats from the hills, built a pen, and soon had fresh milk and cheese. They fished in a little lagoon and feasted each night on the bounty of the sea. One night, as they sat by the embers of their fire and picked through the last of a fish bake, Robinson said, "Ah, what a life! Who could want for more?" "It's your story," Thursday replied. "You keep saying that," Robinson told him, "but you never really say what it means. Tell me about what you did before I washed ashore." Thursday shrugged and said, "I lived in my condo down at the other end of the island" Robinson sucked the last of the grease from the fish bone in his hand, threw the bone into the fire, and asked, "Why didn't you tell me this before?" "Like I said, it's your ..." "Don't," Robinson said. "Just tell me the rest." "There's not much," Thursday told him. "Unless you want to hear about the casino." Robinson picked a fish out of the fire, whapped Thursday over the head with it, and said, "All, tell me all!" So Thursday, in his quaint, one-toothed way, told Robinson how a pirate named Long John Valandingham, Jr., used the island as his base of operations. Long John would bury his ill-gotten booty in the hills, murder the pirates who had carried the trunk for him, then debauch for a time before going back to sea. "But why does he have to go back to sea?" Robinson asked. "He must have millions buried in the hills." "Aye," Thursday replied, "but when he debauches, he forgets where he buried it." "Are we coming to the part about the casino?" Robinson asked. Indeed they were, and Thursday explained that Long John had opened a casino each time he came ashore to keep his crew occupied and incidentally broke so they would have to sign on for the next cruise. Soon other pirates heard about the casino, and it began to operate year-round, except on major holidays. "He must be getting filthy rich," Robinson observed. "No, because he spends it all on his mistress, Emma Bovary, who sings in the casino," Thursday explained. "Now just a minute here ..." "Like I said," Thursday said. Robinson thought for a moment, then told Thursday, "All right, if it's my story I want us to go to the casino, where I will come into a million bucks or doubloons or pesetas or something and leave this island on the next ship." "Okay," said Thursday, "but what will we do with the goats?" Robinson and Thursday and the goats shortly found themselves in the pirate casino, where Long John Valandingham, Jr., greeted them with a hearty, "Shiver me wooden leg and batten me bunions, if it isn't old Ben Gunnysack and some friends. Sit down, me hearties, have a drink, I'll deal." Robinson soon found himself in a high-stakes poker game with Long John. The pot grew until Robinson had no more money. Long John raised one more time, and in desperation Robinson said, "I'll call, but all I have left to bet is this flock of goats." "Oh, gee, I was really fond of those goats," Thursday said. "But then, it's ..." Just then Emma Bovary took the stage for her first number. The pirate crowd grew silent and as Emma sang Barnacle Bill the Sailor, Robinson saw tears rolling down the hardened cheeks of the cutthroats. Soon he, too, was sobbing, because Emma Bovary was probably the worst singer he had ever heard. Emma finished, the pirates cheered and went back to their gambling, and she came to stand behind Long John. She looked down at his hand, held her nose and rolled her eyes, and asked, "Whose flock of goats?" "Mine," Robinson explained. "I'm about to bet it and call." He did, then laid four aces on the table. Long John laid his pistol on the table and said, "I'll need a bill of sale. And don't forget your bar tab as you leave." "This isn't working out like I want it to," Robinson told Thursday as they washed dishes in the kitchen. "I always sing when things don't work out," Thursday told him, breaking into a spirited chantey which Robinson soon joined. In a matter of moments the kitchen was filled with pirates who applauded as the duo finished their song. The next night, the pair opened as "Castaway Caruso and Thursday," were an immediate hit, and in no time had several platinum CDs on the market (pirated CDs, of course). They booked a tour of favorite pirate haunts, Robinson began an affair with Emma Bovary, and Thursday bought back the goats from Long John. "I guess it did work out," Robinson told his partner as they prepared to board a ship for their tour. "What was the name of this boat again?" "The Lusitania," Thursday told him. "Like I said ..." Copyright 2000, Robert A. Markwalter Humongous School Corporation Superintendent Paul. Q. Who revealed yesterday that his district would offer mandatory prenatal kindergarten this fall. "All-day kindergarten and all-day preschool are just not enough," Who explained. "Our children are falling behind the rest of the world on the tests the press reports about. In spite of the fact that the American economy is booming like never before, this test score gap should be cause for panic in the streets, and can't possibly be the fault of the way we school types do things. So it must have something to do with not starting the little devils to school earlier, and the only way we can do that is to have their mothers show up before they give birth." Who said that mothers-to-be would be expected to attend half-day school sessions, but would not be graded until their unborn children take third grade proficiency tests. "By then, we'll know if the mothers were listening," Who told reporters. "If they weren't, they will be forced to attend remediation on pain of tactics that would make the Inquisition look good. Of course, they will have to get pregnant again before they attend, but that's their problem. The educational establishment has to draw the line somewhere. We are going to ask the state legislature to pass tax credits for pregnant women whose children have flunked third grade, but we're also going to have them jail women who aren't pregnant when their flunking kids repeat that year. It's their choice." Who added that the Humongous School Board was considering pre-prenatal kindergarten. "If every potentially ovulatory woman in this school district was forced to attend school, can you image what that would mean?" asked Who. The reporters and vagrants who had assembled for the Humongous School free lunch and beer could not, especially the reporters. "It would mean I'd look pretty cool when my contract comes up for renewal next year," Who explained. "We would have potential geniuses on our hands. Of course, that would spell doom for guys like me down the road, but I'll be retired by then." School board member Wilhelmina What said she agreed with Who, even though she was pretty vague about a lot of things, including school board matters. "I never understand most of what Who says," she explained, "but he says it so well I can't help but agree." Julius Eppletrip Elementary School Principal Harold Idontknow said he agreed with Who about prenatal and pre-prenatal classes. "Heck," Idontknow explained, "I agree publicly with practically everything Who says. Privately, I think he's a dweeb, but don't quote me." Humongous School psychologist Elmer Why agreed with Who, What, and Idontknow. "Why not?" he said. "Let's face it, these kids don't learn much in their regular classrooms, so maybe forcing their mothers-to-be - who were probably truants themselves - to sit through the same drivel will do some good. It will at least keep the mothers from watching those horrid daytime TV shows, unless they manage to sneak into the teachers lounge." Julius Because, President of the Don't Ask, Don't Tell Middle School Parents Club, said he agreed with Who, What, Idontknow, and Why. "I also think potential fathers should have to attend pre-prenatal classes," Because said, "because who knows what goes on with that genetics business. I certainly don't, because I'm a graduate of this school system." Professor Arlo Tomorrow, chairman of the biology department at Roger B. Whazzat University and School of Doctoring the Books, said he saw absolutely no merit to any of the proposals offered by Who, What, Idontknow, Why, and Because. "Dorks," he commented. "I've heard brighter statements from burned out light bulbs. Simply putting a potentially pregnant woman in a classroom and talking to her will do absolutely no good. Don't these guys know anything about biology? It takes more than talk to fill your classrooms. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to launder my tongue." Charlotte Today, chairwoman of the state Department of Education and Finding Other Stuff to Occupy Our Time, took offense at Tomorrow's comments, while not necessarily agreeing with Who, What, Idontknow, Why, and Because. "Where would the young women of today be without Tomorrow?" she wondered. "I sometimes wonder. In fact, I spend a lot of time wondering about that, and a lot of other stuff, because I sometimes sit in my office for two or three days before anyone knocks on my door. Who knows where I am?" School superintendent Who said he knew where Today was, but added, "I don't give a hoot. And I mainly don't give a hoot because I'm immersed in this educational initiative we've been talking about, the one that will make me a household word, like garbage disposal and lint trap. It's easy for people like Today to sit in the capitol and wait for other people to look them up, but it's another kettle of fish to be out here in the field and have to hide from irate parents." Speaker of the State House of Burgesses and Kumquats Henry P. Idontcare said he planned to introduce legislation mandating that children who flunk state standards tests be shot immediately after receiving their grades. "What future have these kids got?" Idontcare wondered. "Menial jobs, broken homes, no chance to get elected to anything and cash in like I've done. I say we just put them out of their misery while they're too young to vote. Of course, I'm also for shooting the ones who do pass the test, because they might actually catch on to me." Who, What, Idontknow, Why, Because, Tomorrow, Today, and Idontcare then went into executive session, and how could anyone blame them? Copyright 2000, Robert A. Markwalter In a recent survey, nine out of ten high school students said the causes of the American Revolution included the refusal of George Washington's parents to allow him to have his belly button pierced. The tenth student said it had something to do with the Spice Girls. As a public service, especially to number ten, here is a short history of the revolution: CAUSES The American Revolution was caused by the French and Indian War, which was also known as Queen Anne's War or Queen Anne's Lace Underdrawers, depending on which side of Parliament you sat. Other causes include the Intolerable Acts, tea, the triangular trade, and the fact that George III was mad as a hatter. THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR This caused the French to go home from North America. The American colonists saw the trackless wilderness left behind and began to slather over the prospect of moving there (go figure). But George III, after consulting his ministers and an oak tree, decided the colonists had to stay put and participate in the triangular trade. THE TRIANGULAR TRADE This developed when George's favorite composer, Clyve Handle, wrote a duet for triangle, pianoforte, and tuba, then invested heavily in a triangle factory. The music was not well received (which is putting it mildly) and Handle asked George for help. The king responded by decreeing that everyone in America should buy a triangle, then play it on alternate Tuesdays. The colonists were livid (and considering they were already slathering, this must have been something to see). The chief colonist, Ben Franklin, invited everyone in North America to tea to discuss the available options. Much to Franklin's surprise, everyone in North America RSVP'd. TEA Unable to find a teapot big enough to brew 100 million gallons of the stuff, the ever-resourceful Franklin decided to dump a shipload of tea into Boston harbor and simply tell everyone to bring a cup. While this thinking predated sun tea by 200 years, it also fouled the harbor something awful. Parliament got wind of the situation and passed laws 1) forbidding the brewing of tea in American waters, 2) allowing British soldiers to sleep wherever they pleased, 3) taxing everyone who looked through a window, and 4) requiring the use of stamps on dirty postcards. THE REVOLUTION BEGINS The colonists were outraged at having to use stamps to send dirty postcards to each other, this being one of their chief recreations and free to boot. They drank tea from Boston harbor and began to buy guns and powder, which they intended to give to disgruntled postal workers. The British heard of this and set out to capture the powder, which had been stored under a rude stone bridge in Concord, Massachusettes. The colonists in their turn got wind of the British, and sent Paul Receiver, the tight end for the Boston Celtics, on a down and out pattern with his faithful horse, Traveler. Receiver missed an easy catch, which he blamed on British interference, and the colonists mustered their Minutemen, the local club which dressed as penguins to attend all the games. The Minutemen surrounded the rude stone bridge and waited for the British. No one knows who fired the first shot that day, but it was heard in Lexington, where the local Minutemen put down their beer and began to shoot the British. This was not a popular move with the British, who retreated to Boston to think things over and drink what was left of the harbor. BUNKER HILL The first real battle of the revolution was at Breed's Hill, but was christened the Battle of Bunker Hill to confuse the British. It was here that American general Horatio Alger issued the famous command, "Don't shoot until you can see one if by land or two if by sea." In the confusion which followed this order, the British won the battle, but were themselves so confused as to which hill they had actually taken that they threw up their hands and sailed away from Boston. CONTINENTAL CONGRESS There were two of these, cleverly labeled First and Second by the historians who counted them. They are known chiefly for appointing George Washington to command the American army, for not supplying the army, and for fleeing from one city to another as their credit ran out. BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND In the first sizeable battle of the war, the British defeated the Americans. The Americans in turn purchased Manhattan from Napoleon and moved there. COMMON SENSE A little of this would have avoided the whole issue in the first place, but in historical terms this refers to a pamphlet written by Thomas Paine, who was well-named so far as the British were concerned. In Common Sense, Paine wrote, "These are the best of times and the worst of times," further confusing students of all ages. BATTLE OF TRENTON In an effort to collect a settlement from his insurance company, Washington invaded Trenton, New Jersey, on Christmas Eve, soundly defeating about 300 German insurance agents who were meeting there for a convention. He was immortalized by the painting which showed him standing in the bow of a boat used during the battle, then castigated by the Consumer Product Safety Commission for not wearing a life jacket. JOHN PAUL JONES America's chief naval hero is remembered for saying, "I have not yet begun to fight." It was once reported he said this during a sea battle, but later research showed it was during an argument with his wife just before he left for the battle. BATTLE OF COWPENS This was somewhere in Virginia or the Carolinas. No one seems to remember it very well. LAFAYETTE There being little fighting in France at this time, the Marquis de Lafayette enlisted in the American Army after Ben Franklin promised he would go to Paris to play chess in the bathtub with Lafayette's aged mother. VALLEY FORGE Washington vacationed at this ski resort near Philadelphia following the Battle of Trenton, and was castigated by the Consumer Product Safety Commission for not wearing a helmet. YORKTOWN Refreshed by his vacation, Washington surrounded the British here and their surrender ended the war. The British general Cornwallis was so humiliated by the defeat that he ordered his troops to stand on their heads. Copyright 1999, Robert A. Markwalter |
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