We all know that Yoda, the green muppet in the Star Wars movie speaks in a backwards style, trying to put the punch line ahead of the joke, "A teacher I will be", for example. But did you know that early forms of the Yodish syntax have been spoken in Wapella for 80 years now. Yes, on this day in 1928 the catchphrase "What can I do you for" was first spoken in Hog City in another undocumented Wapella historical first.
What does it mean? Learn you must to understand you will. Or in other words, I am not really sure, but say "What can I do you for" some time in a Hog City gathering and wait for the laugh riot to begin.
Update: In an odd coincidence, August 1, 1988 marks the first mention of the catchphrase "Been Behaving?" in Lane, Illinois. Good work Lane!
Here's celebrating 80 years the oratorical gem "What can I do you for", another Hog City original.
How about Buck and Don doing the comic Tiger By The Tail for a hot Friday?
News and Observations from Wapella, Illinois: Home of the Wildcats.
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6 comments:
That kind of talk was called a run-on where I went to school.
Example: "I threw my mother off the train a kiss."
Buck and Don still look like they're on some extended Mediterranean/Mexican holiday, doing gigs in the plaza.
HG
So you boys never got it?
It is a proposition.
It is a dirty joke told by dirty old men in the 60's and 70's.
Obviously it was told in front of the children of the 60's and 70's, and those children have yet to get it.
The truth is visible through the cracks in broken people.
Letters written, addressee unknown, nobody I know or ever will. My hands upon dusty paper in the kitchen, window next to my table, small, small - this room. Outside, the rain is pouring. It's always, always pouring. Like I'm caught in some twisted frame, this world, and every day is exactly the same. I can hear NIN on the radio, or a CD I own. I don't care anymore, the difference has blurred.
There is no newspaper this morning, nor any morning, ever again. There is no coffee to be bought and served, because I do not drink coffee. I used to like it, but it makes me sick to the stomach. Here, they manufacture a lot of pills, all sizes, all colours. I dine blue, green, red, purple, every night. Without the smiles.
Later, I won't turn on the telly. I do not own one. Nobody does.
Later, I won't eat ice cream, nor drink milk, nor slices of cheese. I can't digest it well. Nobody can.
Later, the phone won't ring, lying silently by the dust bunnies, eyes wide open and scarred by heavy crying and screaming. There is nobody left who would be interested in calling me.
In the morning, tomorrow, I will wake up slowly, inhibited by my castle of dreams, always surreal and strong. Vivid as hallucinations. It will be the only time of the day I remember your face, name, whiff of your skin's heat. Once my feet hit the cold floor, you're gone. And I shall drag myself into the shower, use the same damned shampoo for hair loss as every day, since every day is a feast of medication and it makes my hair drop to the ground. I will tend to my thin skin by the mirror, carefully applying special skin products. My eye rash will hurt. It is to be expected, only, I do not expect anymore.
Getting dressed, leaving the house, staring out into the whole wild open, and hearing no voices. No birds chirp, no wasps to harass, no dogs or cats waiting for me. The grass sighs with the wind. I stand like this for a few hours, and then it's time to go back in. I wait every day, but I've forgotten what for. It doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter.
Later, the lights will stay on, I shan't turn any off. It's my last reminder of a world that was more, pretty smiles and laughter. Shaking hands. Embraces. Turning wheels, turning revolutions, turning words. Now there is only me, in this heaven turned hell.
You have left.
What?
I think what anon meant was you take the good, you take the bad, you take 'em all and there you have the facts of life. The facts of life.
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