Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Zintkala Maniyan

Walking Bird.  I decided that's gonna be my Indian name.  

Why did I decide I wanted an Indian name?  'Cause I want one.  That's why.  So I'll have an alter-ego when I'm playing my Native American flute.  (Yeah, I know they're really not "Indians".  So just stop right there.)

See, I like to hike way up high ... and birds go high, but I, of course, can't fly.  So I walk everywhere.  I soar like an eagle with my feet on the ground.

And stuff.

Now I just need a primitive-style hyroglyphic drawing of a bird walking.  One foot in front of the other-like.


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  2. Abe: -- I leave these: a box of mint-condition 1918 liberty-head silver dollars. You see, back in those days, rich men would ride around in Zeppelins, dropping coins on people, and one day I seen J. D. Rockefeller flying by. So I run of the house with a big washtub and -- [notices everyone ready to leave] where are you going?

    Homer: Dad, we'd love to stay here and listen to your amusing antidote, but we have to take these coins to the mall and spend 'em!

    [Abe's pointless story continues in the car ride to the mall.]

    Abe: Anyway, about my washtub...I just used it that morning to wash my turkey, which in those days was known as a "walking bird". We'd always have walking bird on Thanksgiving with all the trimmings: cranberries, injun eyes, yams stuffed with gunpowder. Then we'd all watch football, which in those days was called baseball"...