My Ding A Ling

My Ding A Ling, do you remember that song? What literary genius penned that?

Oh, wait. Through the magic of Mr. Google, it was. . .

CHUCK BERRY!

When I was a kid we had a cassette tape (jump into the way back machine). . .

I believe it was on a Halloween tape because the only other song I remember was Monster Mash - oooo, very scary.

You're "mashing" now aren't you? I can seeeeeee youuuuuuu.

Speaking of scary and being a kid, do you remember when you were too afraid to go into the dark basement? The whistling woods? The stony mountains of Kentucky?

Apparently, there is reason to be afraid of the Kentucky Appellation Mountains. There are nonhuman things that exist up there. Like Bigfoot, hookworm, distilleries.

From what I understand, to this day, you do not want your car to break down in the mountains of Kentucky for fear of getting shot. Those moon shiners are a bunch of paranoid folk. They think everyone who is not one of them (meaning one eye isn't pickin' on Venus, has all their teeth in the front, is clean-shaven, and doesn't smell like an outhouse) is thought to be the cops. Moonshiners have a long history of not liking the cops. Don't they know prohibition ended 76 years ago?

Thankfully, those distilleries existed way back when or my good friend Kitty probably wouldn't be around today. Her grandfather grew up in the mountains. They ran around seeking out the coolest hiding places in their bare feet, catching hookworm.

Ick!

To get rid of worms in the olden days, one would boil down some root to make crack candy. This had nothing to do with the drug, was very bitter, and the "perfect" cure for hookworm.

If it was so bitter, why was it called candy? If I didn't know it and someone gave me something bitter called, "candy," I would have avoided candy all my life. Maybe I'd have been thinner. Perhaps I should go catch me some hookworm.

STOP!

I'd much rather be over weight than to have nasty worms. I think having worms makes you a social pariah - that alone would have KILLED me!

So this "candy" killed the worms, but then they had to be expelled from their bodies. As if having worms wasn't gross enough, you had to sh*t out dead worms for about a week!

For all those years of seeking out the best hiding places, Kitty's grandfather thought he had found the perfect spot for his distillery. But alas, the cops caught up with him, and gave him a choice: go to jail or go to war. He chose war, met Kitty's grandmother in Italy, got married and the rest is history.

And history is passed down through the generations via stories. And who hasn't met an old person with stories to tell? Kitty's grandfather had a lot of stories of the Kentucky mountains. One of the favorites was about

BIGFOOT

I know most people don't think Bigfoot exists, but we have proof living right down the street from us.

I had no idea, but while we're playing Bunco, someone noticed skis by Ginny's the front door. I know it's chilly, but it isn't even close to ski season. And there is only the "King of the Mountain" sized hill in Pleasantville so down hill skiing isn't an option.

You'd be hard pressed to even try cross country skiing in Pleasantville. We live in one of those areas of the country that gets snow over night and is completely melted by mid morning. Anything greater than a dusting here causes the big city next door to go into a tailspin.

We're expecting an inch of snow?!?! Close the schools! Stop at the store for milk, eggs & bread! Bring in the firewood! Order up the National Guard!

Then when the "storm" passes to the south or north of us (which happens more often than not), there is just a little b*tching at the weather men. But as soon as they say there's another one coming, we go through the entire process again without question. The Boy Who Cried Wolf would have a field day here!

Anywho, turns out those weren't skis.

My friend's husband has the biggest feet I've ever seen. Well, I actually never seen his feet, but his shoes were by the front door.

Size 15

Where do you buy ginormous shoes like that?

And it's not like it was just a put on to fake people out. If he stuffed tissue paper into the toes, I'm sure Ginny would have noticed by now. You know what they say about the relationship between the size of a man's feet and well, other parts. There is no faking it. With feet that size, Ginny probably doesn't need to fake it either.

I wonder if "the signal" in their house is that Chuck Berry song.

My Ding-A-Ling, My Ding-A-Ling,
won't you play with My Ding-A-Ling
My Ding-A-Ling, My Ding-A-Ling,
won't you play with My Ding-A-Ling

Ginny's not a very big person. I don't know how she doesn't get ripped in two!

Seriously, did she marry the missing link?

I don't know. He doesn't seem that hairy. You know Bigfoot is always depicted as hairy.

I've never paid attention to that aspect and I guess I'll never know.

I'll never be able to look at anything but his gigantic feet from now on.

Silver Lining:

1. I'm very happy with the ding-a-ling I married.


2. Take that however you want :)