Thanksgiving Thoughts

This is the time of year when we reflect on those things for which we are most grateful. I am thankful for:

• My freedom.
• Sympathetic sheriffs.
• The tar and chicken feather shortage.

Doc's Jinglewhapper

Some of the folks who read an earlier post may be wondering just what exactly a "jinglewhapper" is. The answer is: I don't know. Not exactly, anyway. I think it is a musical instrument consisting of a center pole made of painted and varnished wood, to which is attached all manner of percussive equipment. It could, however, also be some kind of torture device; some folks have told me so after I have attempted to play the thing.

Jinglewhappers are not unique - I have seen them in a variety of styles, depending upon the player's personal taste in noise. My jinglewhapper (pictured here) has a metal bell (sans interior clapper), a hollow wooden thingamajig, two coiled wires stretched tight against a tin pan, and bells that jingle. It rests on a large rubber ball which one can pound on the ground. You create sound by whapping various parts of this contrivance with a drumstick, or by pounding it on the ground, or both.

If you want a jinglewhapper of your own you will have to make it. The fellow who made this one disappeared under mysterious circumstances and I have never found anyone else willing to assemble such a device. Some town authorities have thanked me for not pursuing the matter. The instrument's musicality has never been a real issue. Its primary purpose is to attract an audience, which it does admirably.

Wizard Water Ameliorates Cattle Dispute!

Do your neighbor’s cattle trample through your streams? Has a stampede ever kept you at home? If you’ve encountered any of these problems, you may want to consider following the example of lawman Wyatt Earp of Tombstone, Arizona.


Earp had repeated run-ins of this nature with cowboys from the Clanton ranch. After failing to find any resolution to his troubles, he finally decided to arrest the miscreants. He confronted them near a corral in town and told them to turn in their weapons. They objected. A fracas ensued.


Several of the cowboys fell in the ensuing gunfire. Finally, when everyone ran out of bullets, the matter seemed settled. Then Wyatt noticed a lone miscreant stumbling toward him, pistol cocked. Wyatt’s own Colt revolver was empty. Suddenly, he remembered his bottle of Doc’s Wizard Water©, that wondrous potion with 1,001 uses.

Wyatt quickly pulled the bottle from his saddle bag and threw it at the cowboy. It cracked right on top of his head. The man stopped in his tracks. “I see the light!” the ranch hand exclaimed. “We were wrong to treat you so poorly, Wyatt! I think I will learn to read! Then I will sell Bibles to the miners!” And he did. That man turned his whole life around and started a new career, all thanks to a bottle of Doc Johnson’s wondrous Wizard Water©! Think what it can do for you!

Doc’s Thoughts on Politics

My mule Bleb once served as mayor of a town out West. The human mayors tended to die of gunshot wounds, and when the townsfolk saw him help me with the medicine show (Bleb could laugh on cue), it occurred to several folks that a real jackass might work out better in their highest elected office. We declined at first, but we were caught leaving town and brought back, and Bleb occupied the mayoral seat (from a barn) for six months. We would still be there, but they discovered that Bleb had not been born in the territory and therefore was not a legal resident. Also, they located a trained dog who could shake hands better. The mayoral service paid rather well and I was sorry Bleb was unseated. It should be legal to elect animals to high office, though, when qualified humans are in short supply.

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Little known facts: Paul Revere and the Sons of Liberty planned the Boston Tea Party over pints of ale in a tavern. As a young lawyer Abe Lincoln owned several taverns, and after he and Stephen A. Douglas debated, they both quenched their thirst in a saloon. Bars and saloons are patriotic. They encourage commerce, freedom of speech, and the pursuit of happiness. That’s why I say: More polling places should be in saloons.

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Always vote for the man who will pay you the most. Take the money up front, though – any man who makes his living off of promises can’t be trusted. Believe me, I’ve had some experience with this.

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You should vote as often as you can get away with it.

copyright ©2008 Laurie J. Anderson, all rights reserved.