1960’s humor

Beat the Competition

SYLVIA: Hi! Wanda.

WANDA: Hi! Sylvia. How’d you die?

SYLVIA: I froze to death.

WANDA: How horrible!

SYLVIA: It wasn’t so bad. After Iquit shaking from the cold, I began to get warm & sleepy, and finally died a peaceful death. What about you?

WANDA: I died of a massive heart attack. I suspected that my husband was cheating, so I came home early to catch him in the act. But instead, I found him all by himself in the den watching TV.

SYLVIA: So, what happened?

WANDA: I was so sure there was another woman there somewhere that I started running all over the house looking. I ran up into the attic and searched, and down into the basement. Then I went through every closet and checked under all the beds. I kept this up until I had looked everywhere, and finally I became so exhausted that I just keeled over with a heart attack and died.

SYLVIA: Too bad you didn’t look in the freezer -we’d both still be alive!

A friend was in front of me coming out of church one day, and the preacher was standing at the door as he always is to shake hands. He grabbed my friend by the hand and pulled him aside.

The Pastor said to him, “You need to join the Army of the Lord!”

My friend replied, “I’m already in the Army of the Lord, Pastor.”

Pastor questioned, “How come I don’t see you except at Christmas and Easter?”

He whispered back, “I’m in the secret service.”

What’s Your Religion?

I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump off. I immediately ran over and said “Stop! Don’t do it!”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he said.

I said, “Well, there’s so much to live for!”

“Like what?”

“Well … are you religious or atheist?”

“Religious.”

“Me too! Are you Christian or Jewish?”

“Christian.”

“Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?”

“Protestant.”

“Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?”

“Baptist.”

“Wow! Me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?”

“Baptist Church of God.”

“Me too! Are you Original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?”

“Reformed Baptist Church of God.”

“Me too! Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915?”

“Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915!”

To which I said, “Die, heretic scum!” and pushed him off”

Grandpa’s Dead!

My cousin Barbara was an only child wise enough to be born to older parents continuously thrilled at their creation. They indulged her in everything, the way my parents should have done me, understanding she was precious and needed protection from life’s hard edges. They all lived the house with Grandma and Grandpa so it was going to be a challenge to Continue reading →

Aunt Ader’s Place Part 2

dog-trot

House much like Aunt Ader’s

Not understanding the nature of inebriation, I assumed Uncle Dunc, a great name for a drunk, was just playful when he laughed at all our jokes and fell off the high porch chasing us. No one bothered to explain for years that Dunc was a drunk. He was one of my mawmaw’s youngest siblings, younger than some of her own children.  Her mother, Cynthia, was a scandal, having been twice divorced before she married John Miller.  John only lasted long enough to father a daughter and twin boys in quick succession before dying of lead poisoning.  He was shot in a bar fight, likely saving him from the heartbreak of his fickle wife’s habit of spousal abandonment.  Presumably, his son Duncan was the bad apple that didn’t fall too far from either parental tree. 

Aunt Lucille’s demeanor didn’t match Uncle Dunc’s.  She was a dour, strait-laced woman not given to smiling, though it’s not likely she had much to smile about, considering her life with Dunc.  She looked a lot like Smokey the Bear in a dress. I have not seen a woman more hirsute before or since.  Her unibrow and mustache dominated her round face and coarse, black hair, resembling pubic hair covered her legs, though I had no knowledge of pubic hair at the time. After a visit there, Daddy always warned against us girls against shaving our legs or we’d end up with legs like Lucille.  I was far too young at the time to be aware of leg-shaving anyway, but I certainly didn’t want Smokey the Bear legs.

Most of the time when we visited Uncle Dunc’s place, many other aunts, uncles, and cousins were there. Huge dinners of fried fish, barbecue, or fried chicken were served up, the first shift to ravenous children who ate scattered about the floor or maybe on the porch. This was in the days before paper plates, so dishes were quickly washed before setting the second table for adults. By this time knee babies were nodding off in their father’s arms and younger babies put to the breast. After dark, a propane lantern hanging on the big front porch cast a cone of light where dozens of cousins chased each other hysterically in and out of the shadows. Parents visited in the cool of the front porch.  Mamas rocked babies and put them down to sleep on pallets just inside the house where they could be heard if they cried out. 

Sometimes times there would be home-made vanilla, peach, or banana ice-cream made in hand-cranked freezers.  The evening usually ended when exhausted kids were called in for ice-cream, but on the best nights, the old folks launched into deliciously terrifying ghost stories, made all the better because the teller believed them.

cousins

A few of my forty first cousins.

To be continued

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20 thoughts on “Aunt Ader’s Place Part 2”

  1. Pingback: Aunt Ader’s Place | Nutsrok – Br Andrew’s MusesEDIT
  2. patriciaruthsusanGreat memories, Linda. :) — SuzanneLikeREPLY EDIT
  3. Aunt BeulahAh, the fun of screeching around with cousins big and small as dusk falls and our parents talked and laughed on the porch or in the house. I’ll never forget it. And don’t you think everybody has an Uncle Dunc of one failing or another in their family tree? I know we did. Great post, one that opened me to many memories.Liked by youREPLYEDIT
  4. http://www.salpa58.wordpress.comOh Linda, this is hysterical. I can relate to most of it and I am sitting here laughing out loud. Your aunt with all the bear hair sounds like she might have had some Italian in her. Very hairy group, I can attest to that. On the bright side you don’t see too many bald Italians. :o)
    Loving this one and looking forward to reading more.Liked by youREPLYEDIT
  5. Let’s CUT the Crap!So nice to have family around you. :-D Forty cousins. Wow.
    Your stories are every entertaining.
    Woe is me. I come from a family of women once my dad passed away. Thank goodness one of my four sisters had a boy.Liked by youREPLYEDIT
  6. Annette Rochelle AbenHook me up with the ice cream… Crazy but my mom had an older brother named Duncan. He passed very young, in fact she never met him.Liked by youREPLYEDIT
  7. olganmAnother great image. And I like the sound of the ghost story telling…:)Liked by you and 1 other personREPLYEDIT
  8. Soul GiftsThe image of the hirsute Smokey the Bear is now stuck in my head !! Thank God I stopped shaving my legs :)Liked by you and 1 other personREPLYEDIT
  9. Judy MartinThis is great Linda. It must have been such fun for you at the time. I am so glad you have such a good memory and are sharing your stories of your colourful relatives with us! :-)Liked by you and 1 other personREPLYEDIT

Nutsrok Illustrations by Kathleen Swain

Magic circle0002
Chris and Frogs0002
Becky in the Drain
Wuppin Mama redo
Appreciation
indian dress and hen
Church
Water head
Surprise party

Misogynistic Cat

Patches was an appealing calico  kitten until you took her personality into account. She clearly had issues.  I have to admit, I never got her to a cat psychiatrist, so my diagnoses may not impress the more knowledgeable among  you.  At first, like any kitten, she was all teeth and claws as she frisked around.  My daughter was a sweet little girl, totally enamored of Patches.  That fickle feline  wouldn’t give her the time of day unless the child was opening cat food. Patches spit or hissed at me every time I got close.

Conversely, Patches couldn’t get enough of my son, even though he put forth nothing good.  He’d stick rolled tape to her feet and she’d come back for more.  He rubbed her fur the wrong way.  She loved it.  He never fed her.  My daughter would try to entice Patches to sleep with her.  Patches always struggled loose and sped into John’s room.  Should she be locked out, she yowled at the door till he let her in.

Patches might have been a Floozy in a previous life.  She loved Bud, too.  If John was not available, she’d cuddle up on Bud’s lap and purr like a washing machine.  I believe she also suffered from hallucinations.  From time to time, she’d be walking across the floor and seem to see something then panic wildly, before running to hide under a bed or sofa.  Other times, she’d wake from a dead sleep and run till she banged her head into the wall.  It was not uncommon for her to pursue an invisible mouse or yowl at nothing.  It never occurred to me me till now, but perhaps she was Seeing ghosts.

One night, John was gone, so Patches had to make do with Bud.   She hopped on him in bed,  moving several times, made a lot of biscuits, with her purring in overdrive the whole time.  It was impossible to go to sleep. Eventually, she settled down.  “Finally.  That’s a relief.” I said, “Maybe she finally went to sleep.”

In a muffled tone, Bud answered. “Yeah, well I’d feel a lot better if her butt hole wasn’t right over my nose.”

Joke!

The guide dog led his blind master directly through a green light out into the traffic of a busy intersection.  Horns honked.  Cars crashed into each other all around him.  A good Samaritan ran out into traffic and snatched him to safety.  The blind gentleman reached into his pocket for a treat.  “Good boy.  Good boy.  Here’s a treat!”  He patted the air, feeling for his dog’s head.

“Are you crazy?  He nearly got you killed?  Why in the world are you giving him a reward?” asked the good Samaritan.

“I’m not.” said the blind man.  “When I find out which end his head is on, I’m going to kick his butt!”

True Love at the Library

The world opened up to me on my first visit to the library the summer before I turned four.  My sister had just finished first grade.  Mother took her to enroll her in the summer reading program, bland enough sounding, as we pulled up to a white clapboard building just next to Davis’s Barber Shop.  I knew Sandra Davis was in first-grade with my sister, so that was important.  The small library was divided into an adult and children’s room and lined floor to ceiling with shelves.  The picture books were on low shelves under the huge windows of the front room.  I stood there staring, till a tiny, white-haired lady came out from behind a desk, pointed to the shelves and told me, “Choose anything you like.”
I’d never seen such wealth.  We had books at home, but nothing like this bounty.  I’d never thought the world might hold such wealth.  I dropped to the floor and pulled one out. Having no interest in little girls at a tea-party, I hastily slid it back in its place, looking for something a real kid might read.  I rejected a valentine book, a kitty, and an A B C book, I had just settled on a cowboy book when Mother said we needed to go.
“I didn’t get to read my book yet!”  I wailed.
“We can read it when you get home.  Don’t you want some more? You can get three,” she finished.
I’d never been offered more of anything this good.  I was stunned.  “That ol’ woman is gonna’ give me three?”
Mother covered my “that ol’ woman outburst” the best she could.  She grabbed the tea party book and the valentine book, while I handed over my cowboy book.  Miss Temple stamped the little date sticker in the books, had Mother sign the cards, and we were on our way.  As soon as we got to the car Mother hissed. “”Don’t ever call somebody an old lady again. Or I’ll warm your britches for you.”
“Why? Doesn’t she know she’s an old lady?” I asked.  I was still having a lot of trouble figuring out manners.
“Well, if she doesn’t, it’s not your place to tell her.”  She was mad.
As soon as we got home,  Mother read me Rory and Rocky the Cow Pony.  After a couple of readings, I had it memorized.  I had to take back in two weeks, but checked Rory and Rocky out all summer.  I never did read the tea party or valentine books.

Beat the Competition

SYLVIA: Hi! Wanda.

WANDA: Hi! Sylvia. How’d you die?

SYLVIA: I froze to death.

WANDA: How horrible!

SYLVIA: It wasn’t so bad. After Iquit shaking from the cold, I began to get warm & sleepy, and finally died a peaceful death. What about you?

WANDA: I died of a massive heart attack. I suspected that my husband was cheating, so I came home early to catch him in the act. But instead, I found him all by himself in the den watching TV.

SYLVIA: So, what happened?

WANDA: I was so sure there was another woman there somewhere that I started running all over the house looking. I ran up into the attic and searched, and down into the basement. Then I went through every closet and checked under all the beds. I kept this up until I had looked everywhere, and finally I became so exhausted that I just keeled over with a heart attack and died.

SYLVIA: Too bad you didn’t look in the freezer -we’d both still be alive!

A friend was in front of me coming out of church one day, and the preacher was standing at the door as he always is to shake hands. He grabbed my friend by the hand and pulled him aside.

The Pastor said to him, “You need to join the Army of the Lord!”

My friend replied, “I’m already in the Army of the Lord, Pastor.”

Pastor questioned, “How come I don’t see you except at Christmas and Easter?”

He whispered back, “I’m in the secret service.”

What’s Your Religion?

I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump off. I immediately ran over and said “Stop! Don’t do it!”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he said.

I said, “Well, there’s so much to live for!”

“Like what?”

“Well … are you religious or atheist?”

“Religious.”

“Me too! Are you Christian or Jewish?”

“Christian.”

“Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?”

“Protestant.”

“Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?”

“Baptist.”

“Wow! Me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?”

“Baptist Church of God.”

“Me too! Are you Original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?”

“Reformed Baptist Church of God.”

“Me too! Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915?”

“Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915!”

To which I said, “Die, heretic scum!” and pushed him off”

 

 

 

What Did You Say?

My husband,Bud,used to work with Jeb, an older fellow who was deaf as a post, but couldn’t be bothered with a hearing aid.  Jeb followed the conversation as best he could, and guessed at the rest.  In his  younger days, he’d run a full-service filling station.  Jeb was filling up a lady’s automobile one day when she asked if he had Resr Room.  He heard whisk broom, not Rest Room    “No Ma’am we don’t.”. He said,  noting the dirt on the mat at her feet.  “But just lift your feet up.  I’ll blow it out with the air hose.”

Bo

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