Monday, October 19, 2009

Hoax? ...



Maybe I shouldn't share bare details as to the following tragic event, but the recent media frenzy created by Falcon "balloon boy" Heene, who was supposedly carried helplessly adrift for miles, thousands of feet up in the air, reminded me of a similar, yet equally unfortunate incident which took place many years ago.

Maude Beefeater had contracted an extremely severe case of the green apple trots, or for you more refined folk ... diarrhea ... and back in those days, the Beefeaters had yet to avail themselves of indoor plumbing, and their only "facility" was a wooden outhouse which sat down at the edge of the creek, just downstream a tad from where they retrieved their potable water ... unfortunately, the placid, little brook was prone to flashflooding, thus the trusty privy had been washed away several times in the past ... a frantic search would then ensue until the homemade loo was located, toted back to the edge of the creek and set back on it's foundation.

Back to Maude's conundrum ... poor thing had been out to the toilet that day too many times to count ... just when she reckoned things had calmed down a bit, she heard another growl and felt another tremor, within and below ... she jumped up from the kitchen table and darted out the door for yet another urgent laxation ... well it was pouring down the rain by the bucketfuls, had been all day, and relief stood nearly 200 feet away ... Maude knew she couldn't make it that far before letting go, so she ran behind the corncrib ... boosted her skirt ... lowered her knickers ... grasped the side of the crib ... then quickly assumed the squating position ... that's when Maude ... and Henry ... and Lamar ... and just about everybody else living up that hollar heard a most frightening rumble and roar, like a locomotive rolling down between the ridges ... Flashflood!! ... Maude braced herself real good, then proceeded with the business at hand, while that raging water turned the tinkling waterway into a violent torrent of mayhem and destruction.

After a few minutes, the deluge was over, and the angry stream had returned to it's normal gait ... the big water had gone ... and so had the old outhouse ... Henry and Lamar ran outside to check on Maude and survey the damage ... goodness! ... Maude had gone to the outhouse ... the outhouse was gone ... Maude was gone ... Maude was inside the outhouse ... Maude and the outhouse had most assuredly been swept down the creek ... without a paddle ... goodness! ... Henry screamed ... "Laaamarrrr! ... go dial 9-1-1 ... the number's writ down right next to the phone!"

To capsulize a potentially long-drawn-out, see-through story ... a despairing, although fruitless search was conducted ... everybody in the hollar gathered with the Beefeaters back at the Beefeater place to mourn the loss of Maude, and the outhouse ... only to discover Maude sitting there in the kitchen wondering why everybody was so sorrowful, and if they'd found her cherished privy ... the sheriff was fixin' to arrest ol' Henry and Lamar for "facilitating" a hoax and for wasting their time and resources, until Maude explained the true particulars of what had just transpired ... sort of like "balloon boy" ... only different.


--sja

8 comments:

BOB said...

What pray tell was Maude's squirt ... and why did she have to lift it?

An explanation is in order methinks!

Anonymous said...

Tis a good thing that ye be watchin' over me ...

BOB said...

Heehee ... you said a mouthful!

BOB said...

3 min

Anonymous said...

I'll be on Yahoo messenger shortly ...

Carol said...

Well, everyone needs to experience an out door privy at least once. Mr. Bobby belongs to the generation whose grandparents did have an outhouse. Mine had long ago moved on to indoor plumbing. So it wasn't until we were on the Baltic cruise on a luxury cruise ship that I had the experience. We were in Ooland Sweden (a beautiful island off the coast of Sweden). They had scheduled a long bus tour of the island, but no nice bathroom breaks. Finally, at an old church we were told that there was a "bathroom" at the end of the garden. Well it was an outhouse with beautiful climbing roses all over it. Sometimes, you just gotta. So I did, and so far that was my one and only experience of that outmoded form of technology. I'll be happy to keep it that way

BOB said...

Well, visiting Granny was always fun ... they milked their cows by hand, got their water from a well and had no electricity until well after the war ... I remember when she first put carpet in the bathroom too.

Yes, just as an experiment ... liked it so well, she later ran it into the house.

BARB said...

I, TOO HAVE HAD AN EXPERIENCE OR TWO WITH THE OUT-DOOR-LEW MY GRANDPARENTS USED TO HAVE ONE IN THEIR BACK YARD AND IN THE WINTER TIME I WOULD OCCASIONALLY VISIT THEIR HOME. AND OF COURSE BEING A YOUNGSTER I NATURALLY HAD TO GO IN THE MIDDLE THE NIGHT AT TIMES. BOY, WHAT A RUDE AWAKENING...WARM
SKIN TO COLD PLASTIC SEAT!!!!