A continuing tale of life in the boonies
Top (and only) Prize is $3
Last week all town employees received notice of the dire consequences that could result from being caught staggering around on the job under the affluence of incohol. This infuriating encumbrance to daily life has derived from an incident in a neighboring town, and certainly not from any current problem in Farmington.
It has spawned a competition, though. (We haven't had one of those since I solicited a collective noun for Santa Clauses, which Mr. Ramgunshoch won with the word "plague.")
Rules are simple: Name the titles of the songs on which the following parodies are based, and give either the composer or the singer(s) who made them famous.
1. Way down upon the sewage treatment,
Far, far away,
Magic mushrooms have just met defeatment,
We must be straight a
ll the day.
Farmington am sad and dreary,
Everywhere I roam,
Oh, buddies how my heart grows weary,
Now that my mushrooms are gone.
2. I've heard them singing
With all the phones ringing,
In Farmington Town Hall
From nine in the day,
But now they're crying
Sobbing and sighing
The bottles o' champagne are a' wede away.
3. I am a hard Day's knight,
And I bin drinking like a hog
I am a hard Day’s knight,
I should be sleeping like a log,
But if Bill Fraser knew
I'd be off the town crew,
And it don't seem right,
You know it don't seem right.
4. P.D. for sale or rent,
Cells to let - 50 cents,
No cops (no hats, you bet)
No whacky cigarettes.
Solutions may be called in on the Hatwatch Hotline - 755-3703. If answered by some abusive little pipsqueak, try again in 10 minutes. Alternatively, write them on a postcard, and mail to the Community Center, Farmington, 03835. One point awarded for each of the eight correct answers. Three dollars to the winner, who will be he or she with the highest score. Names drawn in the event of a tie. Deadline is Tuesday, March 18.
To close this subject on an appropriate note, I append a brief snatch of a cautionary ditty from 19th century London:
"...and while in the grip of liquor,
He met a Salvation Army lassie,
And cruelly he burst her tambourine.
All she said was 'Heaven bless you!'
And made a mark upon his brow
With a kick that she had learned
Before she was saved..."
Although Boondock Butt is a shrewd cookie, his new dog is none too bright. Recently, a clamorous yelping drew Harold from his trailer. Despite a nose full of quills, his dog was trying, with admirable persistence but audible non-success, to eat a porcupine. To save his hound further pain and embarrassment, Boondock Butt launched the porcupine into a tree with a snow shovel, where it settled in the branches, none the worse of its experience. Harold is still pulling spines out of Wonderdog.
Not for the removal of porcupine quills, but for rabies shots. It will be held at the Community Center on Saturday, March 22 from 12 noon until 3 p.m. Dogs can also be licensed at this time. The cost varies from $6.50 to $2, depending on the sex of the animal, whether or not it is neutered, and the age of the owner. I should remind Larry Kelly that Seumus will cost less, this year.
Museum News – The Henry Wilson Blues
In the Henry Wilson Corner
Of the Henry Wilson Room,
Stands the Henry Wilson Cabinet,
In the reverential gloom.
There's a bust of Henry Wilson,
Henry Wilson's powder horn,
And the Henry Wilson bedspread
Wove from sheep his mother's shorn,
"Deadly boring," piped Ramgunshoch.
"Leave this poem!" I did warn.
But step outside on Main Street,
Seek in vain for Henry's name,
You'd think at least one business
Would cash in on Henry's fame.
Why not Henry Wilson's Laundry,
Or the Henry Wilson Barber?
(In the depths of all our bosoms
Don't we Henry Wilson Harbor
"Are you crazy?" cried Ramgunshoch.
"Just bug off!" I snarled with ardour.
We gotta have a statue,
Or a Henry Wilson fountain,
Or change the name of Blue Job,
Into Henry Wilson Mountain,
Or way up on Route 11,
Have an eighty-foot high sign,
Of a flashing neon Henry,
In an avant-garde design.
"Saying - Henry, he went that-away?"
"I wish you'd cross Town Line."
Where There's Muck There's Brass
Or one man's eyesore is another man's gold pile. I had an illuminating conversation with Stella Michaud, guardian of Buddy the Pigeon, a few days ago, concerning the complexities of the scrap metal business. Oft have I wondered why cars are dismembered before they are crushed and returned to their maker. Silly me! It is to maximize profit, of course, not find out why they died. Axles, for example, are classed as prepared metal, so let’s make a pile of axles. Bumpers could be No.2 iron, and certainly not that light stuff at only $17 per ton, so make a separate heap of them. Batteries contain zinc and copper and nickel, so let's pull those guys apart and stick them in individual barrels. Now we're getting somewhere...
Once this principle is grasped it can be readily and lucratively applied to other rejected artifacts of human existence. Old refrigerators, stoves and the like. So next time you pass a junk pile, look at it with a little more respect. Stella, incidentally, is descended from a line of English silversmiths, on her mother's side.
Well known rock-climber, Police Officer Ken Buttons, has decided to learn the piano, and is at present negotiating with keyboard wizard, "Sam" Mahoney. Ken is already an adept performer on the tenor saxophone and the electric zapper.
While some kids are struggling to spell M.T.V., Memorial Drive pupil Carrie Lover is reeling off p-e-p-t-i-d-o-g-l-y-c-a-n and e-u-c-a-l-y-p-t-u-s. She will represent Farmington in the Strafford County spelling bee on March 15
Elizabeth Saliga received the D.A.R. Award for the best entry from the school on American history. Winners of the "I like to read newspapers" contest were judged by elementary school administrators Tim Woodward and Caroline Butler to be 1. Christina Brochu 2. Kim Jaikowski 3. Larry Silvain 4. Tanya Masters. These names have been forwarded to the Manchester Union Leader.
The reasons why the average kid reads a newspaper are as predictable depressing as those of their parents ... sale news, sports, comics and T.V. listings. Who is leading who in this downward spiral?
March 10, 1986
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