August 7, 2017
Attention: If you can see this, it means you have been officially screened and duly approved to read the following feature, Week 314, of Fun ‘n Frolics Galore, brought to you as a service of the Too Much Time On His Hands Association.
I was reminiscing last week about our first house at 28th and Williams in Great Bend and related the great Cat vs Bird story. Which triggered a memory in Sally, who suggested I tell you the ‘other bird story.’
This particular incident scared the heck out of me, but had no lasting effect, except maybe that little involuntary twitch I still get when lifting a trash can lid. Just kidding.
This incident began when I found a medium-size dead bird in the yard one day. I figured it was the cat or some other predator that had jumped the unfortunate member of the avian persuasion. So I dropped the bird in the trash can and forgot about it.
Next day I took out a bag of trash, lifted the lid and whoosh, flap, flap, chirp, screech; the supposedly dead bird took off in a flurry of feathers, missing me by mere inches. Yours truly was a mite surprised, to say the least. Wonder what he told the rest of the crew back at the nest: “I was just trying to nap and this idiot throws me in a trash can.”
Another memory: we also went through the Flood of ’81 in that house with our three-week-old daughter. It had rained something like fourteen inches in twelve hours or so, and the water infiltrated the neighborhood from all sides.
Every few hours I would go out, assess the situation and confidently tell Sally, “don’t worry, I think it’s cresting now. It won’t go any higher.”
Then the water crept over the curb and into the yard. No problem. It surely wouldn’t get any higher than that. We could still drive out if need be. “That’s pretty much it,” I said, feeling pretty good since the rain had stopped by then. Except the water kept rising. And rising.
When it got up to the base of the foundation, we knew it was time to escape. Luckily for us, the late Bob Olivier (bless his kind soul) was slowly driving his huge Western Power truck through the neighborhood picking up evacuees. We jumped on board and went first to the city auditorium and then to Sally’s parents’ house which was out of the flood zone.
Came back two days later (we literally waded in; the water was still a foot high) and found that we had gotten double lucky. The water had just barely touched the bottom of the main floor of the house, but other than a few square feet of damp carpet, we had no real damage. Another plus: our house was situated on a slight rise, maybe a foot higher than houses across the street, which sadly, sustained a lot of damage, especially if they had basements. We had a crawlspace.
Moral of the story: When it comes to water, don’t be like me and turn into a self-appointed expert. Water has a way of making you look silly.
Alright, let’s delve into your replies to last week’s post…
On the comedian who use his sponsor’s name in his audience greeting, we have two winners. Julie got the one I was looking for with Jack Benny and his “Jello again, this is Jack Benny talking.” I had forgotten about Bob Hope’s, “hi this is Bob Texaco Hope,” but Terry hadn’t. Good job.
Terry also remembered the Mt. St. Helens’ eruption of 1980. (See last week’s post.) He said he had been planting corn near Seward and left the planter in the field overnight. The next morning he found the seed boxes covered with ‘volcano dust’ from 900 miles away.
Edith Ann said a dentist with a second-floor office on Main in the ‘50s was Dr. Schubert, according to Phyllis Marsh. Did Phyllis say exactly where the office was? Just curious.
On a related note, Joe Boley agreed with me (see last week’s post) that the upstairs part of Komarek’s was musical instrument repair. He also has completed a history of Loyall Komarek, longtime musician and band director. Joe, will this be available for sale or study at the Historical Society?
Billy Willy dropped by, gave us a ‘thumbs-up, but had no comments this time.
‘Sideshow Brad’ answered the ‘colorful’ food product question. Yep, you’re right, margarine (in some states) had to be sold in its natural white color. You could buy a little color packet to mix yellow in if you so desired. The dairy industry lobbied fiercely to get those laws onto the books.
‘GB Artist’ knows his legendary middle east ruler songs. Yes, it was ‘King Tut’ by Steve Martin. Edith Ann agreed. As with most Martin things, the song was very funny, especially when he did it live on SNL.
Ryan stopped by with a few nice comments. Thank you, sir.
Okay, the two questions still open include the one about the White House Chief of Staff who had to resign partially because of some fancy wearing apparel, and also the one asking about the first location of Action Sports.
So, I guess that leaves room for a few more…
Who was the guy who would sometimes do hours of trivia in the early days of KHOK?
What was the first true national brand of gasoline, sold under the same name in every state?
On this 1950’s TV show Walter Cronkite did NOT read the news. What was the show?
Well, that’s about all of this ‘show’ for this time. We shall convene once again in the friendly confines of cyberspace at approximately this same time next Monday. Have a great week.