************************************************************

************************************************************

The EPIC of the BED PAN

When I had my operation,
I displayed a lot of guts;
I could take it, smile and like it,
But the bed pan drove me nuts.

When nature called, I’d call the nurse;
And when I called she ran
And soon I’d have my carcass
Parked upon that godam pan.

I’d slide back on my shoulders
But the leverage wasn’t there,
And instead of something doing,
I’d shoot a flock of air.

And when at last I’d get results,
I’d feel around my seat,
To see if I had missed the pan
And piled it on the sheet.

There was cold sweat on my forehead,
When I’d feel with cautious care,
And with sighs of satisfaction
Find not a thing was there.

But now a new contortion
Would leave me weak and pale:
I’d have to work and twist and squirm
To wipe my poor sore tail.

I’d raise my sitter, high mid-air
This closed the gapping span;
My shaky hand would slip, and then
I’d grab that godam pan.

The muscles of my neck would bulge
As I stood upon my head,
I’d make a few wild passes
And fall weakly back in bed.

And when I’d ring, the nurse came in
And carried off the pan;
I’d wonder why, on such a job,
They didn’t send a man.

Then finally, I’d settle down,
That movement was a treat;
But, wait a minute! What’s that so warm
And wet upon the sheet?

With a gasp of apprehension,
I’d slowly raise my gown,
And there beneath my sitter
Would be a blotch of brown.

And so, as operations go,
I’m a burly, big he-man;
But gosh! It simply burns me up
When I miss that godam pan!!!!!

Author Unknown

************************************************************

A little old lady was walking up and down the hall in a nursing home. As she walked the hall, she would flip up the hem of her nightgown and say, "Supersex".

She approached one particular elderly gentleman and in her most coquettish manner, while flipping her gown at him said, "Supersex".

He sat silently for a moment or two, then answer, "I'll take the soup".

************************************************************

Heard at the water fountain, "My husband and I split up over religious differences, he thought he was God and I didn't".

************************************************************

************************************************************

************************************************************

The following appeared in the Cedar Creek Pilot, May 3, 1990. The author presented her observations of Square Dancing in a very unusual and humorous manner. She was a delightful lady who seemed to enjoy watching Square Dancing and then expressing her thoughts with a different twist.

By LOU DANIELS.

I’ve been having a lot of fun lately, going to watch the square dancers at the various square dance clubs. Why nobody gets killed or has a fractured skull is beyond me. I guess I go for the same reason that people go to the auto races. (If there’s gonna be a wreck, I wanna be there to see it!)

My pal, Betty, decided that she would like to take up square dancing but after watching them one night I told her that she had better either “up” her life insurance or forget the whole thing. Looked risky to me! These square dancers are nice people, don’t get me wrong. I think they just like to live dangerously.

To demonstrate how kind and friendly they are, they always greet each other with what they call a “Yellow Rock”. This is a big hug which enables the men to pick the girls up off their feet and whirl them around over their heads. The girls squeal, the men guffaw, the evening is off to a great start.

The ladies wear something that looks like an open umbrella only there are two handles sticking out the bottom instead of one. (These are their legs, you dummy!) I think the flared out skirts are intended to make everybody look like they have a 16 inch waist. It doesn’t always accomplish this purpose but am reasonably sure that this is the intention. The men generally wear jeans and long sleeved western shirts and all look extremely manly in comparison to the frilly girls.

Once the music starts and the caller takes his place, all the dancers rush out on the floor and form groups of eight. These are called squares or diamonds or something like that, and each dance is called a top. (Or is it a tip?) Anyway, everybody looks expectant and ready to go.

Suddenly the caller gives a call and all hell breaks loose. It’s like somebody stepped on an ant bed and all the survivors are scurrying around trying to get out of the way. How anybody knows what they are doing is beyond me. When he calls, “Bend the line,” I would expect that a straight line would suddenly curve and maybe become a circle or something. No such luck. Instead of a curve the dancers all end up in a straight line facing each other. I think this call is intended to confuse the bystanders and all the square dancers are in on it. Pretty dirty pool!

The Do Sa Dos and Promenades are fairly easy for me to recognize, but when they get into Box the Gnat, Spin the Top, and Rollaway half sashay, I have no idea what anybody is doing. Every once in awhile the caller will inquire, “Anybody hurt?” which leaves me with the distinct impression that this is certainly a possibility. I did see one man go down like a pole axed steer once but everybody continued dancing politely around him until he regained consciousness and then welcomed him back into the group and didn’t seem to hold it against him which I thought was pretty decent of them.

Betty seemed to fit right in and took her lessons with a group of square dancers known as the Bean Pickers in a nearby town. These folks have what they call, “Guardian Angels” who are really the experienced dancers who are kind enough to kinda adopt beginners and put them through their paces until the students learn all the calls themselves.

It wasn’t long before ole Betty was out there doing the Ferris Wheel, Pass Thru, Shoot the Star, and Grand Square with the best of them I kinda learned the calls but never had any idea what they were gonna do when that particular call was made.

Somebody at the Back Yard Swingers, another club we attended, said there are more than a hundred calls to learn. Since I can’t even remember names for more than five minutes at a time I figured it was a good thing I never got involved in square dancing. It only takes one clutz to bolix up the whole square of eight people, which seems like an unenviable position to be in.

But all kidding aside, most of these dancers are incredibly good at what they are doing. If they were each carrying a little chunk of bread in their mouths I could easily gain the impression that these were a bunch of ants scurrying through all the various tunnels and patterns and only running into each other occasionally.

Lots of laughing and whooping goes on and everyone seems to really have a ball. When the dance is finally over all those still able to stand up face each other with loud “Thank Yous” and everybody gets another Yellow Rock.

I trust you remember what I said this was at the beginning of this Column. If you don’t remember, forget about Square Dancing. They’ve got 99 other calls to remember too.

Drop in at Lemonade Hall some Saturday night and watch the dancers. Bring your hard hat and shin guards!!! You’ll enjoy it!!!

End

*************************