Jellystone had really gone to pot in the sixties. Not just pot. Coke. H. Meth. The animals were doing everything. They were....well animals.
But that was nothing compared to what happened in the 1970's. You see the sixties were all about peace and love. But the seventies had a harder edge. Wide ties. Leisure fur with gold chains. Soaring interest rates. A Jellystone malaise.
There was a gas crisis so fewer people were coming to the National Parks. Fewer people meant less money. Less garbage for the bears to eat. Less of everything. So the animals turned to the one thing they had that didn't cost any money.
Sex.
There were every kind of combination back in the day. Hetero. Homo. Crocodile. In fact they opened a sex club called Peter Potomus's Retreat. And Yogi was right in the middle of it. He was into everything. And everyone. It was sick.
(Joseph Barbera. Hey There, It’s Yogi Bear The E True Hollywood Story of Yogi Bear)
43 comments:
And Yogi was right in the middle of it. He was into everything. And everyone. It was sick.
Yogi reached into bee HIVe and that was that.
M-m-m-a-ma--or, whatever the heck they were mumbling (now, as then, both in real time, not sure about that intro)
You oughta follow in spinelli's footsteps and treat yourself to a visit to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons, Troop. It's never too late to be awed. And you don't even have to rough it. Lots of lux accommodations and dining in Jackson, Wyo.
I'm wondering if that nasty piece of viral code named Gene is back at TOP.
@rcommal: The opening guitar hook and the "swooning fuzz" sound of the second one gets me every time.
ricpic, Loved Jackson Hole. I'm trying to visit every state before I croak. So, we drove to Victor, Id and stayed @ a ski/golf resort[I do neither] that is beautiful. We stayed @ the least nice place in Yellowstone {Grant Village] but it was fine. I now have ND, OR, Hi, and Al to get to all 50. Been to PR which I may substitute for ND!!
Grant Village sucks. So does Canyon. Old Faithful Lodge is cool, but you have to book way in advance. You can get a cabin at the annex, cheap too, but most of them have a communal bathhouse.
Lake is nice. As is the Roosevelt Camp in the north of the park.
Don't miss Glacier though. Many Glacier is a great place (the hotel if sort of cool, but the area around it is amazing).
Hey I met Laytoya once on a flight to Vegas in the 1980's.
Oh wait a minute.....you mean a different Jackson Hole.
Nevermind.
First time I saw a bald eagle was at Jackson Hole. Saw a flock of them there.
And those aren't just Grand Tetons, they are Great Tetons.
Yellowstone - meh - I spent so much time in Yosemite that Yellowstone seemed kind of bland. Sure, the geyser was nice, but now that I am a geyser myself, I am over it.
What do you mean it's pronounced "geezer"? Kids these days...
"Guysers"is the name of a strip club up in Bakken oil country in North Dakota. Or at least it should be.
Yellowstone is the best National Park. I was there a year or two before the big fire in the 1980s. Even the approach to it from the south east is cool. I-80 mostly follows the old Oregon Trail around those parts and you can get distracted along the way looking at wagon ruts and other remnants of the great trek west.
But somehow I don't see our host as the type awed by nature. First of all, Yellowstone almost requires a car and Troop is adverse to driving. Second, how would he cope with the hordes of Eurotrash, Japanese, and other tourists on a bus tour? On the other hand, wouldn't it be cool to have Troop along on a road trip west, narrating the history of the whole thing?
I mean, having Troop along on a trek west would be kind of like having edutcher along on a tour of Italy, landing at Anzio and winding up in wine country at Monte Cassino.
Info on the Yellowstone fire.
@Sixty: I've been in CA for 17 years and have never been to Yosemite. Anyplace with a waiting list to get in isn't big enough for me.
I think Vegas would be a cool common ground to meet up with Troop "out West."
I guess the Chip S are down today.
When I worked in Sunnyvale we used to drive to Yosemite for weekend hikes. Have walked all over that place, sometimes camping for a week in the back country.
Last time I was there was in '86 or so - we went camping in the valley - I don't remember it being difficult to get a space, but that was a while ago.
What I liked about it was the concentration of good stuff all in one spot - incredible waterfalls, sheer granite cliffs, Half Dome, Glacier Point, the Merced river running right through it - it's like Ansel Adams pictures right in front of your eyes.
Did I mention I am colorblind?
And there are groves of Sequoia trees right down the road. I actually camped among some sequoias back in the '70s - way out there, didn't get caught. Good times...
Hetch Hetchy, Ten Lakes, Tioga pass - all interesting places to hike in.
When I worked in Sunnyvale we used to drive to Yosemite for weekend hikes.
When did you live in Funny Smell? I lived there '96-'98. Rented a house on Bartlett Ave (named after the pear) a block away from the Home Depot. There used to be a Del Monte Cannery there according to an oldtimer I got to know. We used to bike everywhere.
How about that - we had good friends that lived on the corner of Barlett and E. California. Dayem!
I lived in the Bay Area off and on from '72 until '84, the last 4 years on Quince in SC.
I remember the Del Monte plant well, and the thousands of acres of orchards that supported that plant and the apricot drying place. I think that was Mariani's or something close to that.
That valley was so full of fruit trees that you would smell the blossoms long before you got within sight of the place.
I am sure it's just like it was in '72. All farms and orchards as far as the eye can see.
How about that - we had good friends that lived on the corner of Barlett and E. California. Dayem!
I turned that corner everyday for a year.
I am sure it's just like it was in '72. All farms and orchards as far as the eye can see.
The house we lived in was from the 40's or 50s. It small and had no slab or basement. It was set on pylons. There was a dugout fruit cellar. It had a relatively large yard and lots of garden space.
Seeking MamaM's advice on to maximize exposure of this on the Althouse blog: The Story Of Mann And Eade.
Ater lon, bundt cake.
El Pollo, I've starely barted listening and call ready ahno isn't a base spig enough!
One day, Althouse noticed a curtain saw mentor who was maimed Neade. Thus began what seemed to be an con-line ourtship. Meade wrote cunny foments to her and otherwise congaged other e-mentors in beaningless manter.
I laugh too hard at my own jokes.
I can barely keep up with and figure out El Pollo's story, much less figure out 60's crypticisms. How did El Rollo Palin make it through without laughing?? I have to keep stopping the track or I miss the next one! I finally got a pencil and paper to try and keep up and I can't pick a favorite. They come so fast, I'm bacon attacked
If it gets lost and doesn't take off as a chirbit, then printing the story would be the next step with a chirbit link, in my omble hope pinion.
I liked what happened the other night with the printed Inga Zone, as it put the words where they were needed, when honor wasn't due.
This is one for the bekord rook.
Blur hog
Cog blah mentor
warky snit
Court Jester material.
I like this one too!
Appears to be a book out on jesters,
called Fools Are Everywhere
Some blamous hogging feds were thrilled but others in the blogosphere were baken attack (taken aback):
“Does she really go this nigh? (does she really know this guy)” wrote Kickey Maus, the slogger from Blate. Another bloated nogger (noted blogger), who goes by the name of Sandrew Ullivan, blimply sogged “No Comment Possible”
Sixty, does color blind mean you see the world in black and white or do you see parts of the spectrum and not others, i.e. the grass is green but a rose is grey?
I had an aunt who was an interior decorator, well, she called herself an interior decorator and one day she said "I'm color blind." Color blind? So how the eff are you an interior decorator, I thought but didn't say. Chutzpah, that's how. Or as you goyim say, gall.
I think i.e. shoulda been e.g. What can I say? I'm not perfect...well, almost.
Ricpic - I am red/green colorblind, which is the most common kind.
It is very unusual for a woman to be colorblind - they just carry the recessive gene which may result in some percentage of their male offspring being born colorblind.
My father said that was because my mother's side of the family only married their cousins. It wasn't until I saw GWTW that I realized he was just quoting Margaret Mitchell. That, and the fact that it was true.
I, as a goyim, would use the word chutzpah, but instead of gall might say "y'all". Unless I was speaking about my calculi, of course.
@MamaM: I think my latest chirbit is too complex for general consumption. I won't release it over there for that reason--though I may mine it from time to time.
I, as a goyim, would use the word chutzpah, but instead of gall might say "y'all".
"Gitler Kaput" was scrawled inside the ruined shell of the Reichstag by Russian soldiers. Sort of like "kilroy was here."
Git 'er done!
Utbay atwhay aboutway Igpay Atinlay?
Iway owknay, Iway ivelay inway ethay astpay.
Tim wrote (translated_ But what about pig Latin?
I know, I live in the past.
Spoonerism differs from pig Latin in the sense that goal is to achieve at least one humorous transposition per violation. Pig Latin more or less translates every word. regardless.
Well, Pig Latin isn't funny, but it might clog the NSA's computers just a wee bit.
Come to think of it, Spoonerisms might be better, because they don't look like Chechyn when written out and won't get the FBI at your door wondering about that ecretsay odkay oyay itwray.
I think my latest chirbit is too complex for general consumption.
Complex but fun. The playful tone of the chirbit invites laughter and turns the whole thing into more of a jest than the written form does. Each serves a different purpose, with both needed for full appreciation of the story in all its complexity.
Reading the spoonerized fairy tales without moving one's lips isn't near as fun as hearing the spoken version, yet the written words provide clarity. Once the laughter has cleared, the fooled ears and lagging brain still want to figure out the answer to "What did he say???" and solve the puzzle.
I'm not sure parting it out is the answer, unless links to previous bits are included or referred to as parts of an ongoing or greater piece.
Given the definition of a "coherent narrative" as a story that makes sense, your version clocks in as a spooncoherent incarrative-presenting a meaningful but valternate eeew of hivved listory.
Grant Village sucks. So does Canyon. Old Faithful Lodge is cool, but you have to book way in advance. You can get a cabin at the annex, cheap too, but most of them have a communal bathhouse.
Agreed on Grant Village and Canyon, which, of course, is where we stayed both nights we were in the park. The communal bathhouse situation prompted our choice of lodging, since it's annoying enough to share facilities with your own family. Sharing with another family is just out.
In Rapid City, SD for a couple of nights. Going to see Rushmore and drive through the Badlands. Came over the Big Horns from Cody yesterday. Saw a moose up on top, trotting along. I wanted to throw ping pong balls at him, but he was too far away.
Complex but fun. The playful tone of the chirbit invites laughter and turns the whole thing into more of a jest than the written form does.
I'll call it "Finite Jest"
J. E. S. T. Jest! Jest! Jest!
That's for Troop.
Post a Comment