My high status in the redneck community is well-known among my family, friends and readers. All us rednecks have easy ways of going and as a consequence we usually have lower stress levels than more highly-tuned folks.
Well, a near-life-long friend of mine from Springfield, Mo., ol’ Spred N. DeBulle, sent me an e-mail that suggested that another reason rednecks have low stress levels is becuz they do not really understand medical terminology as today’s doctors explain it. So, they hardly ever think they’re sick.
Ol’ Spred says you are going to die anyway, so why not live life to its fullest? Then, to prove his point, he sent me a list of medical terms and the definitions that rednecks apply to them. Here they are:
■ Artery — a place to study paintings and statues.
■ Bacteria — the back door to the cafeteria.
■ Barium — what the undertaker does to dead folks.
■ Benign — what you be after you be eight.
■ Caesarean Section — a neighborhood in Rome.
■ Cat scan — searching the yard for kitty.
■ Cauterize — made contact with her.
■ Colic — a sheep dog.
■ Coma — a punctuation mark.
■ Dilate — to live long.
■ Enema — not a friend.
■ Fester — quicker than someone else.
■ Fibula — a small lie.
■ Hospital — when your pony pees.
■ Impotent — be distinguished, well-known.
■ Labor Pain — getting hurt at work.
■ Medical Staff — a doctor’s cane.
■ Morbid — a higher offer at the auction.
■ Nitrate — the salary for working the night shift, usually higher than the day rate.
■ Node — I knew it.
■ Out-patient — a person who has fainted, or been knocked out.
■ Pelvis — a second cousin to Elvis.
■ Post Operative — the rural mail carrier.
■ Recovery Room — a place to do upholstery work.
■ Rectum — nearly killed him or them.
■ Secretion — hiding something important.
■ Seizure — A Roman Emperor of old.
■ Tablet — a little table.
■ Terminal Illness — getting sick at the airport.
■ Tumor — one plus one more.
■ Urine — scoring in baseball; opposite of you’re out.
Got this story from “back East.” A rancher from Colorado went on vacation “back East.” One day while he wuz taking a leisurely stroll in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains, he met and struck up a conversation with a New England maple syrup farmer.
The New Englander, wishing to impress the Westerner, said the echoes from their location were regionally famous. To prove his point, he gave a loud Yankee yell and three minutes later the echo clearly returned. Proudly, he turned to the Westerner and said, “Bet you haven’t heard an echo like that out your way.”
The rancher dryly replied, “Well, partner, I think we can do better than that. Why, I’ve got a favorite campsite up in the Rockies where I go elk hunting and when I go to bed, I just lean out the tent door and call out, ‘Time to get up!’ and eight hours later the echo comes back and wakes me up in time to make breakfast and go hunting.”
Ol’ Nevah and I are planning on a little vacation later in the summer to Pitkin, Colo. We’re gonna go with our daughter, Mite, and her hubby, becuz they vacation there a lot and say it’s one of the prettiest parts of Colorado.
I’m hoping that the fire danger in the Rockies lessens and allows us to go.
And, I sure hope the only alarm clock we take with us is one like the rancher has in the above story.
It’s been awhile since I saw my old friend A.C. Doocey from Asbury, Mo. So, recently when I wuz traveling through southwest Missouri I stopped at his home about dusk to see him.
I could tell from the attitude of his wife that she wuzn’t in the best frame of mind. My suspicion wuz confirmed when I asked her where A.C. wuz and she replied curtly, “He’s fishin’ down by the Spring River bridge and if you want to find him, go down there and look for an expensive new fishing rod with a little worm on each end.”
Guess I’ll close for this week with a few words of wisdom about fishing. Some gentleman named George Crabbe said, “Telling a great lie is like landing a great fish; it may fret and fling and make a frightful bother, but it cannot hurt you. You have only to keep still, and it will die of itself.”
Have a good ‘un. ❖
“Telling a great lie is like landing a great fish; it may fret and fling and make a frightful bother, but it cannot hurt you. You have only to keep still, and it will die of itself.”
~ George Crabbe