Sunday, September 18, 2011

Monkey Man

    My parents were flying back from Alaska.  I'd missed them terribly.  My mom was in a rafting accident while there.  She's all right, but still pretty worked up.  Needless-to-say, I couldn't wait to see them safe and sound, throw my arms around their necks and say how glad I am they're both okay.
    So, to celebrate that they were almost home (and all right), Cade took me and our kids out to eat.  The Scribe and Hippie were beyond excited.  The Zombie Elf and Doctor Jones wouldn't stop inhaling fries.  
    At one point, The Scribe handed me some ice, and said, "Here, Mom.  This is a special gift for you."
    "Why, thank you."  I smiled.  
    But when I put the cube on my tongue, she whispered, "I warmed it up for you and everything.  Can you believe that used to be in my mouth?"
    Oh, I could believe it all right--that disgusting little turkey!
    Anyway, we had a great time, laughing and joking, until something happened that I'll never forget.
    A strange man strolled into the diner.  Everyone hushed since he obviously has an immortal soul. Even at a glance, he commanded respect.  I called him strange because he was as tall as a church house.  His spurs jingled proving he would have been a sheriff in the Old West.  His long, western jacket flowed a few steps behind him.  His handlebar mustache and eyes could have melted your heart.
    The man was older, at least three decades older than me, but I bet he'd lived a million lifetimes.  His eyes spoke of joy and pain.  His face showed experience beyond humanity.  The man wasn't what you'd call handsome, but in my heart I knew he was the type of person legends are told about.
    It wasn't just his appearance that stunned me though.  I couldn't pull my eyes from the bundle he held in his arms.
    I turned to my family and realized they were peering in amazement too because in his arms, that man carried the most beautiful girl.  She might have been frail and shrunken, completely unable to move, but God had sculpted perfection when he made her face.
    I wondered what could be wrong--if she had some form of cerebral palsy.  Her hair was done up all nice.  She looked at me like she was a mermaid finally come to land, feeling out of sorts, but still making the best of things.  Her lips didn't smile, but her eyes shimmered kindly, just like the man who carried her.  
    I nodded and they moved along.
    The man sat at a booth not far away.  He propped the girl so she could look around and enjoy the restaurant.  My kids went back to teasing each other and playing with Cade.  I smiled at them, but couldn't stop listening to every word the strange man said to the beautiful girl.
    "Your mother would be so proud of you," he said.  "You have her sweet face, and inside, I know you're just like her."
    His rough, overworked hand graced the curve of her cheek.
    The girl just looked up at him, so much love in her eyes.  I wondered how old she was.  It's amazing how different diseases can make age indiscernible.
    Her father continued talking and through the whole time, she didn't say a word.
    "You know if we both live good, we might see your Ma someday. You can run to her and kiss her.  You can both dance in the fields in Heaven . . . she loved to dance."  The man's voice choked.  He looked to the side and took a deep breath.
    "Sally," he said. He hunched over and gazed into her sweet face.  "I always wanted a daughter--always.  I want you to know that no matter what happened or how things didn't go exactly as I'd hoped, I just want you to know I love you.
    "I might not always be around to take care of you like I have, but I'll make sure you're okay.  I'll make sure you're taken care of.  I'm giving you everything in my will.  Those nice ladies will give you the very best."
    Tears filled Sally's eyes.  She blinked a couple times, still staring at her dad like nothing else in the world existed.  It was just the two of them in this crazy, mixed-up world.  They had gone through so much heartache, but I knew nothing could get them down.  It was Sally and her pa against the world!  Sally and Pa could do anything.  They were what God hoped for when He made humanity.  They showed what true love is. They had it all, except immortal, perfect bodies and for some reason as I sat there, I got the distinct feeling that her dad was sick.  He knew something he didn't think Sally knew, but she did.  I did too.  That man was trying to tell her 'goodbye.'
    "I can't wait 'til you and me can talk in Heaven," the man said slowly.  "Just thinking about it makes me happy.  I bet you have the most wonderful things to say.  We can talk about all these years we had together.  All the fun things we'll do when you can walk."
    I couldn't eat any more of my food.  I couldn't focus.  My plate kept blurring and I needed to get out of that sad, wonderful diner.
    "Can I go outside for a second?" I asked Cade.
    He raised an eyebrow, but after a moment nodded.  "Sure, I'll watch the kids.  Take as long as you need."
    I ran to the front area where fancy bushes lined the perimeter.  I called my parents and was lucky to catch them in-between flights.
    "Mom," I said.  "I just had to call and tell you I love you."
    That woman giggled.  She must have been in a whimsical mood like the time I taped her playing the drums.  Click HERE for that video.   
    "I love you too, Hon," she said.  "Oh, hang on just a second.  Dad wants to talk to you."
    She handed my sweet, generous father the phone.  I kept thinking how if I got into a car accident, my dad would bring me into diners and tell me awesome stories.  He'd carry me around and feed me fancy food.  He'd be sweet and kind, because he belonged in the Old West too.
    "Hey, Elisa," he said and I smiled.  "We've been reading your blog."
    "Really?" I asked, super thrilled.
    "Yeah, and there's something important I need to tell you."
    Really? My Viking father doesn't normally like talking on the phone.
    Then my dad, the same one who would haul me around and treat me nice if I had no legs--the man who would be a saint during my demise--he told me a bunch of stories.  
    "When we were in Alaska, we saw a couple walking into a bar.  They seemed pretty nice, but the wife was a bit spotty.  She kept nagging at her husband.  I caught her name though.  It was Maybelle.      
    "Anyway, while they sat at the bar, the man kept chewing tobacco like he was a cow.
    "Then you'll never believe what happened," my dad said.
    "What?" I asked, quite confused.
    "That naggy woman turned to her husband and said, 'Cud you stop chewing that' . . . CUD!  Do you get it?"
    He laughed so hard.  My mom even chortled in the background.
    "Ummm, Dad."  I paused.  "You know how you've been reading my blog . . .  Is there any chance . . . Have you been reading Shane's blog too?"
     (Click HERE for that link: How Now Brown Cow?)    
    But my dad didn't even answer the question.  That strong man who would nurse me back to health--the one who's tall like the Marlboro Man--my father who used to be the quarterback on the football team!  THAT MAN, said he had a different story for me.  
    "So, Maybelle and Sir Loin were having a steak out in the field.  They shot the bull, had a great time when suddenly Maybelle started acting spotty again.  She turned to Sir Loin and said, 'Sir, CUD you stop chewing that'?"
    I snorted, then.  My father told that joke four times, just in different ways, but each time got sillier and sillier.  Finally my mom laughed and took the phone.  "Well, we better quit while we're a herd.  I hope you'll have a nice day."
    Those are my parents, my sweet beef-loving parents.  I couldn't wait to profess my love and all they wanted to talk about was cattle?!  I knew then, Shane must pay.  I had to make a video about his awesomeness. 
    So, in the names of beef everywhere, in honor to my fallen brethren, I'd like to introduce this lovely musical combination.     

    Please note: Cade is on the right, and that girl with him, well she's some schmuck we found on the street.  I just wish she'd stop checking out my husband!
    So without further ado, here they are:  
(Shane, eat your heart out!)

Here are the lyrics in case they're hard to understand:

Monkey Man
Monkey Man . . .
My Brother is a Monkey Man

He used to throw me off the tramp,
and then I felt like Superman.

Monkey Man
Monkey Man . . .
My Brother is a Monkey Man

One time he shoved peas up my nose,
and told me sour cream was ice cream!

Monkey Man
Monkey Man . . .
My Brother is a Monkey Man

He made me drink salsa for a dollar
Then I cried like a baby bawler

Monkey Man
Monkey Man . . .
My Brother is a Monkey Man

One time he shoved bananas up my nose
and told me poison ivy smelled good!

Monkey Man . . .
Monkey Man . . .
Monkey Man . . .
Monkey Man!!!

And Cow Girl!

P. S.  Shane, my army is gathering.


Look what Fishducky wrote:


Who in your herd gave you the word
That it’s okay to act like a turd
To your sister?  How absurd!
We know you’re a bull and of it you’re full!
But toe the line.  Be a kind bovine.
Give us a sign you are benign.
You’re pasture prime.
It’s now the time
To kiss our calf.  Make her laugh.
So say all of us on her staff!
Our little Veal, to whom we kneel,
Think how sad you make her feel!
We’re warning you.  Have great fear.
You would lose what you hold dear
When we make you into a steer.
What kine cow are you, you bum?
You’re where the word BULLy comes from.

~The Famous Fishducky

The next move is yours . . . Monkey Man!