THE PURPLE PEOPLE EATER

I often find myself lying wide awake in the middle of the night…thinking…ever since I switched to sleeping with my arms outside the covers. Recently, while writing, I paused, maybe for nostalgia’s sake, to listen to a song from the 50s, ‘The Purple People Eater,’ by Sheb Wooley. Later on, my mind, which is a terrible waste, was replaying the lyrics in my head. At first, I thought I had contracted an ‘earworm,’ but it wasn’t the tune so much as it was the words that captured my attention.

The Purple People Eater

Song by Sheb Wooley

Well I saw the thing comin' out of the sky

It had the one long horn, and one big eye

I commenced to shakin' and I said "Ooh-eee"

It looks like a purple people eater to me

It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater

(One-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater)

A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater

Sure looks strange to me (one eye?)

Well he came down to earth and he laid in the tree

I said Mr. Purple People Eater, don't eat me

I heard him say in a voice so gruff

"I wouldn't eat you 'cause you're so tough"

It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater

One-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater

One-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater

Sure looks strange to me (one horn?)

I said Mr. Purple People Eater, what's your line?

And he said, "Eatin' purple people and it sure is fine"

But that's not the reason that I came to land

"I wanna get a job in a rock and roll band"

Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flyin' purple people eater

Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater

(We wear short shorts)

Friendly little people eater

What a sight to see

And then he swung from the tree and he laid on the ground

And he started to rock, really rockin' around

It was a crazy ditty with a swingin' tune

"Sing a bop-bop aboopa-lopa, loom bam-boom"

Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flyin' purple people eater

Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater

"I like short shorts"

Flyin' purple people eater

Quite a sight to see (purple people?)

Well he went on his way, and then what do ya know

I saw him last night on a TV show

He was blowing it out, a-really knockin' em dead

Playin' rock and roll music through the horn in his head

(Tequila)

Question: Was it ‘A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater' or ‘A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater'? This may not seem like a very important detail to you, but at two in the morning, in my mind, that ranked right up there with ‘Global Warming’ and' World Peace.'

Let us beat this question to death…shall we? If we suppose that the alien who came out of the sky and laid in a tree WAS indeed a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater, this was not a major concern because, to the best of my knowledge, I am not aware of any purple people. The nearest I can think of would be Smurfs, which are more blue than purple, and they are not people. I would imagine though, if you ate one, they would probably taste like Blueberries. This would also beg the question why would a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people, eater come to our planet where there are no purple people to eat. Was it misinformed by a travel agent on its planet? It seems like a foolish thing to travel a billion trillion miles to come here, merely hoping there would be purple people to eat.

 

 This leads to the next question: If you are a purple people eater or even a purple people eater, where did you get the people in the first place? I’m sorry, but I’ve got to beat this subject like a jockey sitting on a dead horse until I get it across the finish line. If you have purple people eaters or a purple people eater, and your planet is a billion trillion miles away, you’d have to suppose that a round trip could take a long time. Could it be that as a teenage alien, he grew up listening to his grandparents talk about the old days when they dined on nothing but purple people? It would be understandable as soon as the youth got their intergalactic driver’s license and tricked out the old rocket jalopy he’d bought from the junkyard with the money he earned on his paper route, he’d pack a suitcase and head for the earth.

 

Can you imagine the disappointment he felt when he got here and found there were no purple people? His forefathers must have either been ‘yanking’ his ‘one-horn’ or indiscriminately captured and ate all the purple people without any regard for the ‘natural preservation’ of the species. An alligator had more protection than a purple person. Maybe its ancestors had the forethought to bag a few dozen purple people and bring them back to their planet, where they are bred like cattle. Thus, you could assume the impetuous teenage space traveler packed a few purple people for the trip to hold him over until he found more. Unfortunately, upon landing, he discovered there were no more Indigenous purple people, and you know, teenagers; he had eaten all the purple people he had before he entered the Milky Way, so he was not able to repopulate the species.

 

If you choose, however, to believe that the alien in question is a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people…eater, that becomes an entirely different matter. This would mean that everyone on Earth would potentially be in danger. I can’t prove it, but I suspect that being a one-eyed, one-horned, purple creature, it is entirely possible it was a hermaphrodite (ability to self-reproduce or go to the prom by themselves).

 

Of course there is no reason to panic, yet. How many people can one alien eat in a week? If we could persuade this one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple ‘people, eater, to eat only the people we select, this could actually be a good thing. I would start composing a list of all the people I wanted to appear on the menu. It did state in the song that the alien does not like his people to be too tough. That would most likely exclude bodybuilders, skinny, bony folks, and runway models. However, the obese would be fair game, giving a new definition to ‘fat acceptance,’ and certainly, they couldn’t hope to outrun a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater unless, of course, the alien was on a low-fat diet.

 

According to the song, eating purple people or people in general was NOT the reason the alien came to land; rather, it was to join a rock and roll band. I can understand that. If you had one eye, one horn, wings, and purple skin, you’d fit right in with a rock ’n roll band.

 

Then he swung from the tree and lay on the ground, rocking and rolling, moving spasmodically, which presumably means that with the ability to fly, his race had lost the use of its legs over time. These are only assumptions on my part.

 

It reminds me of a biologist who had graduated last in his class. He took a huge bullfrog and, upon shouting the command to ‘Jump’, then measured the height. Cutting off the right front leg, shouted ‘Jump’ again, recording in his journal that the amphibian did not jump as high this time. The biologist believed he was on to something. After removing the other forearm, shouting and measuring showed that the poor critter did not jump as high as it had just done. Excitedly, one of the hind legs was removed, and when the command to ‘Jump’ was given, it did not jump nearly as much as before. The biologists decided to cut off the last leg to see how high the frog could get. He shouted, ‘Jump’ but nothing happened. He shouted the command time and time again, but the frog did not move. The biologist wrote his conclusion in his journal. ‘Upon removing all four legs of the frog…it turned deaf.’

 

The last known whereabouts of this ‘illegal alien’ was when it was seen on TV, having moved to Hollywood, where it blended in with the local residents perfectly. So, in conclusion, remember:

A bop-bop aboopa-lopa, loom bam-boom

Tequila.

 

 

GRIZZLY HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Grizzly Happy New Year

 ‘Happy New Year,’ is often heard during the month of January, in the US, though I have no idea what the rest of the world does to celebrate. I would have to do some research on the subject which I look forward to as much as I would having a rash on my naughty parts.

The 1^st of January has been celebrated with festivals and rituals dating all the way back to the Babylonians of ancient Mesopotamia over 4,000 years ago. Prior to that the Mesopotamians were just standing around on the 1^st trying to figure out what to do for fun. They marked the occasion with a massive religious festival called Akitu. Statues of the gods were paraded through the city streets and rituals were enacted to symbolize their victory over the forces of chaos. Through these rituals the Babylonians believed the world was symbolically cleansed and recreated by the gods in preparation for the new year and the return of spring. But after several years with only sparse attendance, a committee was formed to find a way to enhance the holiday. The chairman Dieabetes, put his nephew Hermanski, in charge of the refreshments. After the members had a sufficiency of ‘magic’ mushrooms, and hashish brownies, they got busy - discussing ideas for a new theme for next year’s celebration.

Intestinum of Rectum, while toking on some cannabis, spoke next. “Hey man … wouldn’t it be a trip if in addition to parades, we celebrated the mythical victory of the Babylonian sky God Marduk over the evil sea goddess Tiamat, who was like the embodiment of primordial chaos and stuff --”

Asparagus jumped in, “Like she could appear as a sea serpent or dragon, firing laser beams from her eyes.”

“What if,” said Sativa, “Tiamat gives birth to the first generation of deities with her husband, Apsu, but her children aspire to usurp the throne, and have Apsu rubbed out. Tiamat is totally bummed; she brings forth multitudes of monsters as offspring. She is then slain by Enki’s son, the storm-God Marduk --”

Spicoli took over, “But not before she had brought forth the monsters of the Mesopotamian pantheon, including the first dragons, whose bodies she filled with poison instead of blood. Marduk then integrates elements of her body into the heavens and the earth.”

Chairman Dieabetes, staggered to his feet and said, “I can dig it, but we don’t have the time or budget to pull that off. What we need here is a simple, cheap, crowd pleaser.” Intestinum raised his hand.

“What if we ritually humiliate our King.”

“Hmm, I’m listening,” replied Dieabetes.

“In front of everyone, we bring the king before a huge statue of the god, Marduk, strip him naked, and whip his royal highness with some olive branches, then pull him around by his … ah … ears until he cries.”

“Dude! How many brownies did you have?”

“Seriously, we tell the king, if he sheds royal tears, it means Marduk is pleased and will extend the king’s rule.”

“You really think the king will go for this?”

Hermanski offered, “Better give him a few of these brownies first.”

 

It was the Roman Emperor Julius Caesar in 46 BC, who decided to name the month of January after Janus, the god of things that swing, or his secretary, Janice who really knew how to swing; not sure which. Not long after Julius Caesar was murdered. Apparently, Romans are very touchy about their calendars.

New Year’s Eve in Brazil has a tradition that if you wear brightly colored underwear, you will get lucky. If you wear red this is meant to bring you love, and yellow is to bring you money. Brown probably means you’re way behind in your laundry.

In the good ole United States, it is traditional to spend the evening with loved ones, or ones you plan to love, and ones who are unlovely but tend to get better looking after a night of drinking. There is music and dancing, toasting, with a bunch of hugging and kissing and a whole lot of drinking. That is usually followed by another round of hugging and kissing, and so on until you greet the ‘New Day’ passed out on the bathroom floor, waking with a splitting headache and a wicked hangover. This is not to say that everyone gets wasted on New Year’s Eve, it is just that I don’t hang out with any of those people.

On this New Year’s Eve there will be toasts that drink to one’s health, others will toast to wealth. There will be those who drink to happiness, and others who drink to success. As for me, I’ll be on my houseboat with my dog Ginger, drinking to excess.

Happy New Year, and remember to arrive alive, DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE!

 

Signed; Grizzly ‘Sober as a Judge’ Gus

 

TIS THE SEASON

 

Here at the Prickly Heat Senior Citizen Trailer Park and Public Boat Launch – overlooking Lake Flaccid, somewhere near Lutz Lake, at the base of Viagra Falls, just outside of Gomer, Florida, is where I live with my pit bulldog, Ginger. The other resident octogenarians have nick-named me Santa Claus. Aside from the snowy beard of white, now stained by chain-smoking and an occasional snack of cheesy nachos with salsa, like ole Sant Nick I too keep a list of all those who are naughty and nice, and I definitely plan to visit all the naughty gals twice. Hey, why is it when Santa Claus ‘♫…knows when you are sleeping ♫ knows when you are awake ♫ knows when you’ve been bad or good ♫ … they write songs about him - when I do it, I get a restraining order!

While I may no longer be lively and quick – the ladies love me because I’ve got a big . . . dingy; that can take six comfortably out to my houseboat. I keep it anchored on the lake.

I am looking forward to a joyous and restful Christmas having just endured the onslaught of relatives residing in my residence and a Black Friday that had me risking life and limb at the shopping mall. My granddaughter made it abundantly clear that her life would end at the tender year of seven, if she did not get an Oopsie Doopsie Queasy Bake Oven for Christmas. I certainly did not want that on my conscience. I enjoy shopping about as much as I relish a visit to the proctologist; both are huge pain in the posterior. Speaking of which, I traveled thousands of miles to pay a visit to my elderly Aunt Louise, who can’t even remember what she had for breakfast let alone remember me. After many hours behind the wheel, sucking back one Red Bull after another, aside from the brief blackouts, I had ample opportunity to think about the true meaning of the holidays. It is all about relationships. For each person they can mean something different, such as an old spinster with her cat, a redneck and his truck, a gangster and a gun, a hillbilly with his cousin, a nerd and his computer, or a hermit with . . . himself. Specifically, I am referring to those relationships we have with our family. It is not the food, or the gifts, but the connection to others which means the most. The more I thought about it, I realized I'd missed the rest stop and had to pull over and hike into the woods to take a wiz. Afterwards, I came to the conclusion we do most everything either for or because of other people. So, as you are dashing through the stores to get a deal on a two hundred inch flat-screen TV or roasting a beast for the family feast, remember in the end, it is the memories that will remain along with all the bills to be paid. Happiest of holidays to you and yours.

 Signed: Grizzly ‘Ho Ho Ho’ Gus

 

Contact ‘Dear Grizzly’ at www.mdavidlutz.com or email: grizzlyggus@outlook.com

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