January 4, 2001 - Etta and the Beer Truck by Chuck Dishno
Welcome to 2TheHeart's Funny Friday, to start your weekend off with a "CHUCK"le! (Today's story is by Chuck Dishno, so I thought I'd throw that in.)
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I had the great fortune of hearing today's story over dinner with
Chuck and his wife, Roz. Chuck's grandmother was quite a lady!
"Etta And The Beer Truck"
by Chuck Dishno
Bly was a small logging town in Southern Oregon with a population of about 500 people in the late 30's and early 40's. Bly didn't have any street names or house numbers and the mail was delivered to the Post Office where every family had a P.O. Box. It was a great gathering place for the ladies to stand around and wait for the Postmistress, (yes, they were called postmistresses then) Mrs. Casebeer, to sort all the mail into the boxes.
Much gossip was spread during these daily sessions. When the mail was sorted, Mrs. Casebeer would open up the "window" so that one could collect packages, buy stamps or do any other post office business. This was the signal that the gab session was over for the day. It became such a ritual that sometimes my mom and grandmother would both go and the worst thing is they would drag me along. Now I wish I had a tape recorder but they hadn't been invented then, at least not the portable ones. I was 11 years old in 1945, and I sure heard a lot of "stories" about the wayward men and loose women of Bly.
One day my grandmother, Etta, who lived with us for about 25 years, walked down to the post office, a distance of only a few blocks but on the corner, she had to walk by Jack's Place, one of the 6 or 7 beer joints in town. Etta always wore a little hat and a gust of wind blew it off and under a beer truck that was parked in front of Jack's Place.
My little grandmother promptly got down on her hands and knees and crawled under the truck. She found her hat, picked it up and put it between her teeth then proceeded to crawl out the other side just in time for some of the ladies on their way to the post office to see her. They said, "Why Mrs. Hartman, what are you doing under that beer truck?" It must have looked like she had been on an all night "bender" and was coming out of the beer joint. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth as grandma never touched a drop of liquor in her life. But, needless to say, this provided much conversation for the gang at the post office for some time to come.
Chuck Dishno copyright 2001
dishgov@mcn.net
I am a retired printer who spends the summers in Dillon Montana but, escape to the warm winters in Yuma, Arizona for about 6 months. I share my life with my beautiful Chinese wife, Roz and our two neurotic cats, Amy and Max. I love to write and have many stories that I am preserving for my children and grand children. I have had a few published on 2theheart.
http://www.2theheart.com/writers_hall_of_fame
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FUNNY T-SHIRT SLOGANS:
"Frankly, Scallop, I Don't Give a Clam." (Seen on Cape Cod)
"That's It! I'm Calling Grandma!" (Seen on an 8 year old)
"Wrinkled Was Not One of the Things I Wanted to Be When I Grew Up"
"Procrastinate Now."
"Rehab Is for Quitters."
"West Virginia: One Million People, and 15 last names."
"I'M OUT OF ESTROGEN AND I'VE GOT A GUN."
"A hangover is the wrath of grapes."
"STUPIDITY IS NOT A HANDICAP. Park elsewhere!"
"They call it 'PMS' because 'Mad Cow Disease' was already taken."
"He who dies with the most toys is nonetheless dead."
"Time's fun when you're having flies...Kermit the Frog."
"FOR SALE: Iraqi rifle. Never fired. Dropped once."
"Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana."
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The Letter Box:
Linda,
What a hilarious story about the silly string. As I read it I could
just picture your mom with that stuff in her hair.
Thanks for the laughs.
Pat Lowe
Dear Linda,
Your story was so funny! I bought my kids silly string one summer day and we all ended up laughing till we cried as we combined silly
string with a water fight! I like to think of silly string as the
newer version of "canned laughter".
Smiles,
Rita
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