tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42246262721772766972024-03-12T22:14:02.407-04:00"Doc" Johnson's Travelling Miracle Medicine ShowA journal of tall tales, folklife, and an 1890's medicine show."Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.comBlogger265125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-60185816263485315362015-01-18T22:24:00.000-05:002015-01-19T22:25:48.161-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNZ_dRN8v2awIPq__ldfJemG3n2qtkBFyNk3ONXx_usYEHzbeHJpitOch31aRsx7blLdVAWUrPx0HOr-Wfc9GPBY-gx9sqHQ7koN-Dhhp02O29RIGhJ3fVq5sj32ap9DbnKHb2ogySVY/s1600/Doc-cardspread-sepia-WEB-IMG_20141221_184808285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNZ_dRN8v2awIPq__ldfJemG3n2qtkBFyNk3ONXx_usYEHzbeHJpitOch31aRsx7blLdVAWUrPx0HOr-Wfc9GPBY-gx9sqHQ7koN-Dhhp02O29RIGhJ3fVq5sj32ap9DbnKHb2ogySVY/s1600/Doc-cardspread-sepia-WEB-IMG_20141221_184808285.jpg" height="260" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Winter
is a good time to catch up on one’s reading. I prefer mathematical material, and
anything that deals with royalty.</span></div>
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<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-84467530709189316632014-12-28T23:29:00.000-05:002014-12-28T23:30:00.526-05:00Room for Improvement<div class="MsoNormal">
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As the new year approaches, I am reviewing the events of the
last year to see if I can make any improvements upon my life. Well, yes. I can lose
fewer card games, particularly those that involve rails, tar and feathers.</div>
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"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-27377540823099199742014-12-21T23:11:00.000-05:002014-12-28T23:31:39.156-05:00The Perfect Gift<br />
Every year at this time my wife expects a gift, and every year I dutifully provide her with something that I think she will like. She is, however, very picky. She did not like the elephant skin coat I purchased from a circus for her last year, and she did not care for the ironing shoes I gave her the year before that, even though they fit her feet perfectly and would halve the time it took her to press my shirts. So it has gone for all other presents – the new plough, the singing Venezuelan moth-bat, the tub of white-wash. Nothing pleases her.<br />
<br />
This year she asked for something “bright and shiny.” Rather than risk another fiasco, I sought the advice of Mrs. Kringle, the wife of a friend who, like myself, travels widely.<br />
<br />
“You are a woman,” I said. “What would you want that meets this criteria?”<br />
<br />
She suggested something that she said she could not imagine living without. She then offered to sell me what she could spare. I readily agreed. It took me longer than usual to get home with my purchase, but I believe it was worth it. This year under our tree my wife will find two barrels of rendered whale fat. That is enough, Mrs. Kringle said, to keep our house lamps lit all winter.<br />
<br />
I can hardly wait to see the look on my wife’s face.<br />
<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-11325390721933873392014-03-30T23:30:00.000-04:002014-12-23T23:24:51.067-05:00Making Do<br />
I just returned from an extended trip to darkest Peru. I went in search of the kavajava plant, the leaves of which I wished to use in Wizard Water to extend its potency.<br />
<br />
The plant, alas, is the favorite food of the deadly Hopping Mountain Llama. The creatures guard the plants zealously, and attack intruders with such alacrity that weapons are useless. I barely managed to escape with a few samples of air from spots where the plants once grew. I believe I can make use of them. Some people say you can't make something out of nothing, but experience has taught me otherwise.<br />
<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-31132954936409268112014-02-23T22:37:00.001-05:002014-02-23T22:37:39.790-05:00A Little Assistance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8NGSWxZIKt8e1e07hFU4VEP8pIJbEYYetBoH5diZrLYuHKmDDU3vAg9s8qKHeODnIDbaRLZpiyFhoF2iVDrHSf8FsuO4WroVp7zN95UQISKCWRN6IlDdCypuggO9i5KZRviYcX_YGFc/s1600/Doc-kid_blowing_on_rope-022214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8NGSWxZIKt8e1e07hFU4VEP8pIJbEYYetBoH5diZrLYuHKmDDU3vAg9s8qKHeODnIDbaRLZpiyFhoF2iVDrHSf8FsuO4WroVp7zN95UQISKCWRN6IlDdCypuggO9i5KZRviYcX_YGFc/s1600/Doc-kid_blowing_on_rope-022214.jpg" height="317" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sometimes I enlist the assistance of a member of the audience. Here a young gentleman attempts to blow a knot off a length of rope. Normally this won't work, but it's easy with the help of Wizard Water<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><sup>©</sup></span>."Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-20528810128020180572013-12-29T23:33:00.000-05:002013-12-31T21:13:24.822-05:00New Year’s Resolutions<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPP9BVrPfiOP8Mmsb2ZQE1cEaB1ZWDeCle1bh08rIjkmF_xZuCfjTOtWF71geLLLC9TX_k-7kqUF0HgnuGRvLGsDXKB234-ErE8FUbFOKslYLE4t6kvgIF4XKaepYhP3WX7hgzPdKug80/s1600/old_poker_cards_180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPP9BVrPfiOP8Mmsb2ZQE1cEaB1ZWDeCle1bh08rIjkmF_xZuCfjTOtWF71geLLLC9TX_k-7kqUF0HgnuGRvLGsDXKB234-ErE8FUbFOKslYLE4t6kvgIF4XKaepYhP3WX7hgzPdKug80/s1600/old_poker_cards_180.jpg" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>Buy thinner cards. </li>
<li>Never roll up sleeves during a poker game. </li>
<li>Keep glue away from gravy, and vice-versa. </li>
<li>Be a friend to all, especially those who can’t read. </li>
<li>Always reward the stableboy for news of the sheriff’s whereabouts. </li>
<li>Keep all pockets in good repair. </li>
<li>Urge wife to bake more pies. </li>
<li>Teach <a href="http://www.docshows.com/Bleb.html" target="_blank">Bleb</a> how to play Five Card Stud. </li>
<li>Teach Bleb to keep a poker face when he gets a good hand. </li>
<li>Learn to speak better Pig Latin. </li>
<li>Invent a cologne that appeals to miners. </li>
<li>Eat steak more often. </li>
<li>Increase influence over the laws of chance.
</li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span>"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-3220882318337886852013-12-22T23:41:00.000-05:002013-12-31T20:49:32.260-05:00A Loan With Interest<br />
If a fellow named Kris Kringle ever asks to borrow your mule, say no.<br />
<br />
I was snowed in at the <a href="http://wcudigitalcollection.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/singleitem/collection/p16232coll3/id/68#_ga=1.2822195.2033904582.1388516417" target="_blank">Swannanoa Hotel</a> in Asheville and passed the time in a friendly game of chance with Kringle. Suddenly, the old fellow looked at his pocketwatch and muttered, “It’s half past December. I must get to Nova Scotia!”<br />
<br />
Well, Kringle is prone to saying things like that. You never know if he is serious. Once I overheard him ask a post office clerk if he could forward all his mail to Nykarleby, Finland “until the reindeer finish grazing.” Hah.<br />
<br />
So when the fellow mentioned “Nova Scotia,” I thought it was just his way of saying that he had a train to catch. I offered him the use of my mule <a href="http://www.docshows.com/Bleb.html" target="_blank">Bleb</a> in exchange for a small monetary consideration. <br />
<br />
He accepted my offer and left. I had no doubt that he would return Bleb in the care of a stable hand. After three days, however, Bleb was still missing. <br />
<br />
I filed a complaint with the police — that will tell you how seriously I took the matter, for I do not generally like to bother them. On the fourth day, the hotel concierge paid me a visit.<br />
<br />
“Are you the gentleman who reported a missing mule?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, I am.”<br />
<br />
“Can you identify him?”<br />
<br />
“Certainly. His name is Bleb. He can count to fourteen and favors banana bread and tar paper.”<br />
<br />
“In that case sir, the management will thank you kindly to remove your animal from the roof of this establishment.”<br />
<br />
“The roof?”<br />
<br />
“Indeed, sir.”<br />
<br />
I thanked him for his trouble and found my way up to the roof. Sure enough, there was Bleb. How he got there, I have no idea. I managed to get him down, though not without considerable effort and expense. He refused to use a ladder, so I had to purchase a rope and pulley and rent a piano as a counterweight to help lower him to the ground. Once he was on terra firma, the concierge informed me that Bleb had eaten some of the tin shingles. That was reflected on my bill as well.<br />
<br />
I asked Bleb how he got up there, and where Kringle was, but all Bleb did was shake his head. <br />
<br />
I learned one thing from that experience, though: never loan your mule to a guy who vacations with reindeer. I plan to bill Kringle, but I doubt he will respond.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span><br />
<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-89817085112225763162013-12-01T23:45:00.000-05:002013-12-31T20:50:44.264-05:00A Lack of Politicians<br />
I once stopped in a town that had no politicians. Three fellows were running for mayor, but one of them swore the other two were liars and the other two agreed. The election ended in a tie because no one could be certain which candidate was the least truthful.<br />
<br />
The local government had to be suspended. That cost the town a railroad contract, since there was no one to manage the bribes and poker taxes. The situation was not resolved until the next horse-trader came to town and promised to handle all the double-dealing.<br />
<br />
This is the trouble that honesty can get you into, at least in government.<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span><br />
<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-66085736286100720702013-11-10T19:33:00.001-05:002013-11-10T19:34:19.692-05:00Modern Conveniences<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOGOGzcWzGcIfwaTbseQQosBK1NcItIw60adsyOMCmWTaZh9_UTp4-fNtz-t_RRkLRukFXU9uTYu5twHl1NIsJMqM3lSK9QDQrBtJBPgTJbbhnkIK7LAK7e05EHnrbedFYuYDbZ2842w/s1600/1886_tornado_NOAAbig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOGOGzcWzGcIfwaTbseQQosBK1NcItIw60adsyOMCmWTaZh9_UTp4-fNtz-t_RRkLRukFXU9uTYu5twHl1NIsJMqM3lSK9QDQrBtJBPgTJbbhnkIK7LAK7e05EHnrbedFYuYDbZ2842w/s1600/1886_tornado_NOAAbig.jpg" height="258" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Men who herd cattle live rough for long stretches of time. After months on the trail, cowboys will sometimes treat themselves to a fancy hotel room to wash the trail dust off as thoroughly as possible.<br />
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I once stayed at such a hotel in Big Piney, Wyoming. The owner decided to modernize and installed a piped, heated water system – the first in the region. Well, a cyclone came through. It destroyed the hotel and all the buildings around it. I survived by hiding in the root cellar. When I emerged, I heard a strange sound. I followed it to find a young man sitting in a bathtub amidst the remains of the hotel. There was wreckage all around him. He sat there wearing nothing but his birthday suit, oblivious to the devastation, talking to himself.<br />
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"Modern plumbing, modern plumbing!” he cried over and over.<br />
<br />
“Are you alright?” I inquired.<br />
<br />
“Never again!” he exclaimed. “Never again! I heard about these new-fangled heated baths, so I thought I’d try one. Cost me fifty cents. Filled the tub from a spigot, nice as you please. Then when I figgered to leave, all I did was pull the plug."<br />
<br />
"Well you seen what happened," he continued. "Doggone if the whole room didn't just drain away!”<br />
<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-91536111410382060572013-11-03T17:44:00.000-05:002013-12-31T20:54:59.372-05:00The Cursed Cook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaaxAxn4Wq2PvWAdlK9GI7SK5VCoWkmrqKuwx5DBpEUu_A3C7UA09B9z2nU7unbphwSkDrN_fTklAy-AZZTnY5koFfFVLaeWEKdK1fYDuM8fyW_yWNQma6ApBmGMSiH6we9JKDqsVPWU/s1600/chuckwagon-cowboy-oldphoto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaaxAxn4Wq2PvWAdlK9GI7SK5VCoWkmrqKuwx5DBpEUu_A3C7UA09B9z2nU7unbphwSkDrN_fTklAy-AZZTnY5koFfFVLaeWEKdK1fYDuM8fyW_yWNQma6ApBmGMSiH6we9JKDqsVPWU/s400/chuckwagon-cowboy-oldphoto.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was once asked to remove a curse from a frying pan. The pan belonged to a chuck wagon cook named “Salty.” "Salty" was renowned for his beans and bacon, and also his bad temper. Though <a href="http://www.docshows.com/Bleb.html" target="_blank">Bleb</a> and I were a little short on rations when we met "Salty" on the trail, he made no effort to share from his well-stocked supplies. Not long after we met he ran into a spate of bad luck.
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<br />
“You remember that old Indian who was poking around the wagon the other night,” he said, “and how I swung my pan at him?"<br />
<br />
"Yes," I said.<br />
<br />
"Ever since, nothing cooks right in that pan. Food either burns or undercooks or tastes like something the steers left behind. I’d get me a new pan but I don’t get paid until the end of the drive. Know anything that will help?”
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<br />
“It sounds like you angered a desert spirit,” I said. “The Indians expect hospitality and you broke their law, which still applies out here. Getting a new pan won’t help.”
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“What should I do?” said "Salty."
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“I’d offer a meal to the spirits through an animal representative,” I said. <br />
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“What kind of animal?” he asked.<br />
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“Well,” I said, “mules are known to descend from a desert breed, and are more kindly disposed to humans than coyotes. I’d start there.”
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“I ain't gonna spoil my team,” he protested. “It might give them ideas. You reckon yours will do?”
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“I don’t see why not,” I said. “I’ve seen Bleb deal with wild spirits before.”
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<br />
The cook pulled out several Dutch ovens and set to work. Inside an hour he’d prepared a pot full of grits, a dozen biscuits with sorghum syrup, half a pail of beans and salt pork and six helpings of fried apple pie. Bleb ate it all.
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<br />
“That ought to do it,” I said. "Though you might want to test it on a human.”
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“You!” he shouted at me. “Try these eggs and bacon and cornbread and fried potatoes!”
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I obliged, and after a couple plates I pronounced them edible.<br />
<br />
“Are you sure?” he asked.
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<br />
“Yes, though I was pretty sure earlier,” I said. “My mule normally won’t touch grits. It binds him up.”
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Bleb and I continued eastward while the cattle drive moved west. I heard later that the cook got a job with Delmonico’s in New York City, so I guess the curse was truly broken –
plus there was no more manure tea in his frying pan.<br />
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Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.<br />
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<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-41975300150833206302013-10-27T19:48:00.000-04:002013-11-03T11:58:54.444-05:00A Tiff in Tombstone<br />
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<br />
There was a fracas in Tombstone yesterday. I was engaged in a friendly card game, minding my own business, when a fellow ran in and asked if I would please hold his pistol for him, as he had urgent business in Texas. I told him of course I would, for a small fee. He hurriedly pulled out a wad of bills from one pocket, said, “keep the change,” and skedaddled out the back door.<br />
<br />
I happened to have a fine set of aces within easy reach at that moment and planned to double his largesse, but <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunfight_at_the_O.K._Corral" target="_blank">gunfire suddenly erupted outside</a>. I sought cover. A minute or so later Marshal Earp strode in. He pulled me by my coat collar from under the table and demanded to know if I’d seen anyone run through. At first I denied seeing anyone, but he recognized the gun I was holding. He searched my pockets. When he found my holding fee, plus the tip the fellow had left, he put me under arrest. The marshal claimed that the man I’d assisted was really a cattle thief and I was in league with him. I denied it, of course. The marshal promised that I would hang.<br />
<br />
I worked out a deal, though. I will show the marshal and his men the direction in which the fellow ran, and the marshal will release me – after deducting a small holding fee. It is not an exorbitant charge -- it exactly matches the amount that fellow paid me, plus the tip. I’m glad to know my prices are level with this area’s marketplace.<br />
<br />
I expect to explain that later today when folks ask me about the price of <a href="http://www.docshows.com/wizardwater.html" target="_blank">Wizard Water<sup>©</sup></a>.<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">[Thanks to the <a href="http://boothmuseum.org/cowboy-festival-and-symposium/" target="_blank">Booth Western Art Museum Cowboy Festival </a>for another great event!] </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span><br />
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<br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-10139834760035105702013-10-20T10:56:00.002-04:002013-11-03T11:54:13.842-05:00Gold Rush Days...again!<br />
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I'm back in Dahlonega today for their annual Gold Rush Days. Yesterday I introduced royalty -- the Gold Rush King and Queen, and their court. Today I shall oversee tests of vocality, agility and strength - the hog-calling, buck-dancing and wrist-wrestling contests!"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-56329965731110790322013-09-15T21:59:00.000-04:002013-09-15T22:00:06.440-04:00Ianuario Bluegrass Festival<br>Join me Sept. 21 and 22 for the third annual <a href="http://http://www.ianuariobluegrassfestival.com/">Ianuario Bluegrass Festival</a> at Hurricane Shoals Park near Maysville, Georgia. The festival is held in memory of Tony and Ann Ianuario, two special people who loved bluegrass, handcrafts, storytelling and helping their community. The event is free and held in an open-air amphitheater. Bleb will be over at the mill helping to taste-test the cornmeal.<br></br>"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-37217398437358836582013-08-11T22:28:00.001-04:002013-12-31T20:58:17.991-05:00A Serious Note From "Doc" About the Mountain Music & Medicine Show<br />
My good friend Mark Twain -- whom I never met -- once said “The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”<br />
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That same statement could well apply to The Mountain Music and Medicine Show. After 12 years of performances and over 150 shows, we are cutting back a bit.<br />
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The show is an all-volunteer effort that takes each cast and crew member anywhere from a few days to a few weeks to prepare for. We put aside personal and professional obligations to invest our time in this production and music that we love. We are all a mite tuckered, though.<br />
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October 5, 2013 will be our last regular show of the current season. It is not, however, the end of the Mountain Music and Medicine Show.<br />
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We will be back for a benefit show for The Holly Theater on October 4, 2014. We plan to do a minimum of one show a year. You will also still see Doc, the Buzzard Mountain Boys, and other cast members performing around Dahlonega and North Georgia. Bluegrass and bad jokes are in our blood by now, and we aren’t leaving the scene.<br />
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We’ll let you know more later as we get a better idea of how we plan to move forward. In the meantime, please join us for some good old-fashioned fun on October 5, 2013, and mark your calendar for the first Saturday in October 2014 at the Holly Theater.<br />
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See you soon, and keep taking that <a href="http://www.docshows.com/wizardwater.html" target="_blank">Wizard Water<sup>©</sup></a>!<br />
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- “Doc” Johnson "Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-42909312061120547392013-08-04T22:53:00.000-04:002013-11-03T11:57:21.905-05:00Hot Music at the Next Mountain Music & Medicine ShowI'll be up in Dahlonega at the Holly Theater on Saturday the tenth of August. The show will include Lisa Deaton and Friends, <a href="http://www.thethreadbareskivvies.com/">The Threadbare Skivvies</a> and Hair of the Dog. It should be, as some folks say, "a barn burner." I hope that means all the excitement of a fire, minus the actual flames."Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-49136579256114352452013-07-21T23:59:00.000-04:002013-07-27T12:26:02.210-04:00A Lesson from Liniment<br />I once attempted to develop a liniment to ease sore muscles. It contained ingredients not easily available to the average household. Among these were bear grease, camel hump fat, python milk and mint aether. It was so effective in easing pain that it helped individuals who merely stood near the person using the liniment. <br><br>Just as I was about to sign a contract with the U.S. government to supply my liniment to the military, war broke out in Tierra del Fuego. I was forced to cease production because I was no longer able to buy Argentinian tobacco oysters. I learned my lesson: always use ingredients that are close at hand. You won’t have to deal with shortages, import tariffs, or escaped pythons.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span> "Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-60938261180588150022013-07-07T23:31:00.000-04:002013-07-22T00:14:33.988-04:00Patience is a Virtue<br />If you are ever on a train that is delayed by cattle crossing the tracks, do not attempt to hurry their progress with loud noises. In particular, do not take advantage of cannon being transported on the same train. An artillery engagement will cause the cattle to lurch forward, but the ordnance will lurch backward. The walls of train cars are not built to withstand heavy artillery; if they were then General Grant would have conducted his battles from the comfort of a caboose. If you do happen to exercise such an option, stand well away from either end of the cannon. Or better yet, be nowhere near it after you have lit the fuse.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span> <br />"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-23328985622560801432013-06-30T23:27:00.000-04:002013-06-30T23:27:04.573-04:00A New Dictionary<p></p>I am compiling a dictionary of medical conditions for common use. The work is very tiring. Here is the first entry:<p></p>
Exhaustion - another word for not being able to finish a sent<p></p>
"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-72691190385533743152013-06-23T23:26:00.000-04:002013-07-22T00:15:11.041-04:00Sound Business Practices<p></p>It is better to lead from behind, where setting a good example is advisable, but not required.
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Hindsight is foresight with a wider margin of safety.
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Always tip your bartender well. He knows when the sheriff likes to stop by, and where the good exits are located.<p></p>
(c) 2013 Laurie J. Anderson; all rights reserved.<p></p>"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-18254855217766678462013-06-16T16:11:00.004-04:002013-06-16T16:15:55.657-04:00The Cicada Problem<p></p>Cicadas have emerged from their underground caverns and are noisily announcing their presence in all quarters. I was approached by one nervous lady who had become exasperated by their ceaseless droning.
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“It is like living among a convention of fiddlers who know only one note, yet must rehearse that note constantly, backwards and forwards!” she complained, wringing her hands. “What can you suggest?”
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I told her of a farmer I knew who rounded up all the cicadas he could find – and he could find them easily due to their noise-making – and sold them to a baker in New York City.
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“A baker!” she exclaimed. “Whatever for?!”
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“I am not sure,” I replied. “I heard of a <a href="http://http://graphics8.nytimes.com/newsgraphics/2013/05/03/cicadas/217040e58c8e9422661aacbb5e69955ac4916a91/NYT_Cicadas_1894.pdf">‘bug biscuit’</a> concocted there as a cheap food for dogs. Perhaps you can locate that baker and profit from your problem.”
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“I know some young boys who might be willing to assist me,” she said thoughtfully. “ - if I offer a bounty for each bug. I am sure to recoup my investment.”
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She hurried off. I heard no more from her, but I wish her well. I did not tell her that the dogs who were offered such biscuits refused to eat them, and the baker was left with a surplus of insect-enriched flour.
<p></p>In some countries cicadas are eaten to no ill effect, but whenever I visit that metropolis, I choose my restaurants carefully.<p></p>
<span style="font-size: 85%;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span>
<p></p>"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-36232893484823067122013-06-09T23:46:00.000-04:002013-06-16T16:47:27.581-04:00A Timely Aid<p></p>I was once arrested for selling Wizard Water<sup>©</sup> on a Sunday. I sold the elixir on a Saturday, but the client applied it to the gears of a broken clock, and the timepiece fast-forwarded a full day. This was in a town so far out West that trains had to set their schedules ahead in order to arrive on time. The clock advance just evened things out, for folks in that town were already late receiving most things.
<p></p>The pastor had to rush out a sermon, however, mistakenly preached a funeral instead, and was mighty upset. He complained to the sheriff, who put me in handcuffs.
<p></p>I knew the law, though, and cited it when I went before the judge.
<p></p>“You see, sir, I conducted the business on a Saturday. You recall for you were there. You cannot convict for breaking the law before it went into effect.” He had to agree and let me go.
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I prefer being ahead of the facts than behind them.
<p></p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span><p></p>"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-70130108561577995272013-06-02T23:54:00.000-04:002013-06-03T01:00:32.948-04:00Keeping Things Light<p></p>I was in Dahlonega again yesterday for another Mountain Music & Medicine Show. Dahlonega, located in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, is renowned as a gold-mining town. Though rich in ore, its inhabitants have few medical options, however, and not much professional entertainment to lift the spirits of the ill or their loved ones. I hate to see all those poor, hard-working miners suffer for lack of Wizard Water or the cheering distraction of a friendly card game. This is why I visit so often -- to lighten their burdens as best I can. <p></p>"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-64566368563811131552013-05-26T23:58:00.000-04:002013-11-03T19:42:13.517-05:00Widows, Orphans and DogsAlways be kind to widows, orphans and dogs.
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The first two will win you friends and attract sentimental customers, and the last one will keep quiet if it discovers you hiding in a haystack.
"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-52346712407360075212013-05-19T22:16:00.000-04:002013-05-27T00:30:06.343-04:00A Pot of Stew<p></p>Wizard Water<sup>©</sup> is a wonderful tonic, but do not use it as the basis for a meal. I had a customer who tried this with a pot of his wife’s rutabaga stew. In lieu of regular water, he emptied an entire case of Wizard Water<sup>©</sup> into her kettle. He reported to me afterwards that he could not get to the bottom of the pot. His wife was overjoyed, and that winter served rutabaga stew every night. He grew quite tired of the stuff, but she would not hear of disposing of it. He offered the stew to neighbors and friends, and even to bankers in repayment for loans, but the pot continued to produce more stew.
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Finally one night, when his wife was sound asleep, he snuck the pot out of the house and far into the woods, and left it there. Upon his return, he scattered utensils about the yard and left the kitchen door open. When his wife awoke the next morning, he feigned ignorance of the matter.
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“A bear,” he declared. “A bear must have smelled the food and carried it off.” His wife resigned herself to cooking again.
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He thought the problem was solved, but several months later he returned home from a trip and smelled the familiar odor of rutabaga stew.
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“Look!” exclaimed his wife. “Look what I found this morning in the yard! Our pot of stew!”
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“How can that be?” he asked. He examined the ground. There in the dirt were the distinct impressions of bear paws. The imprints were deep as they headed into the yard, and somewhat shallower as they headed back into the woods.
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That man’s wife is still serving the stew. They no longer eat it themselves, though. Instead, the man convinced his wife to open a small rest stop outside their home. There his wife serves weary travellers just the one item, plus day-old bread.
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It is quite cheap. If you want some I’ll give you the address.
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<span style="font-size: 85%;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span>
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"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224626272177276697.post-30242483275169741542013-05-12T22:33:00.000-04:002013-05-27T00:30:55.452-04:00Advice for Boot Owners<p></p>
<ul>
<li>Condition boot leather with a good strong oil, such as mink, neatsfoot, kerosene or whale. </li>
<li>If you use whale oil, stay away from sea lions. </li>
<li>If you use kerosene, do not dry the boots by a fireplace. </li>
<li>Clean boots gently. Do not wash them with lye soap or beat them on rocks. </li>
<li>Do not leave your boots outside if it's going to rain, unless you are trying to find out how well they hold water. </li>
<li>Do not leave your boots out overnight when travelling in the desert, because a coyote may carry one away. </li>
<li>Do not stomp your boots at political rallies or cattle auctions. </li>
<li>Always check your boots in the morning for unauthorized guests camping in the toes. </li>
<li>Cow leather is fine, and rattlesnake leather will impress bank managers, but alligator skin floats -- which can come in handy should you ever be thrown off a paddle-wheeler. </li>
<li>If your mother-in-law gives you an excellent pair of custom-made boots with pink stitching, it is alright to bootblack them. If she notices, explain that they frightened the cattle on the last trip you took out West. </li>
<li>Do not put your boots outside your hotel room door in hopes of getting them cleaned. The bellboy may take them for a gratuity. </li>
<li>When playing cards, always make sure your boots have a clear path to the door.</li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;">Copyright © 2013 Laurie J. Anderson. All rights reserved.</span><p></p><p></p>
"Mrs. Doc"http://www.blogger.com/profile/07018060397565539978noreply@blogger.com0