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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ReplyDeleteAbe: -- 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?
ReplyDeleteHomer: 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"...