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If a grandson's performance at some assigned task was not up to par, grandad might say something like, "You know what you are? You're a drismal!"
"You know what a drismal is?"
Without waiting for a reply, grandad would explain, "A drismal is a combination of a drip and a dismal." Then he would chuckle.
If a grandson did something that didn't seem very intelligent to grandad, he might say something like, "You're a card carrying member of the N A B C W club."
"Do you know what that is?"
Without waiting for a reply, grandad would explain, "It's the Not A Brain Cell Working Club," followed by a chuckle.
If a grandson stopped doing some assigned task, like splitting wood for kindling, and started doing some useless activity like trying to drop the hatchet so it would stick in a stump, grandad might say, "Stop fiddle farting around and get that wood split."
If there was a greater sense of urgency and the task was important, like getting the car loaded before dark, and a grandson was neglecting the task due to some especially useless activity, like throwing rocks at a tree, grandad might say, "Stop that fiddle fucking around and get the car loaded."
If grandad thought a grandson's hair was too long or not combed or otherwise unpresentable, he might say, "You look like a portable brush heap."
Once, when I had long hair, he said, "You look like a fruit." I tried to explain that fruits don't really have long hair that much any more, if they ever did, and besides, I didn't care if I looked like a fruit. I also talked about how long hair was fashionable in the seventeen and eighteen hundreds, so maybe I was paying tribute to the founding fathers. My arguments seemed to make no impression on him.
Another time, when I had longer hair, he said, "Why would anyone want to purposely make themselves look like an asshole?" I chuckled. What can you say to that?
Grandad liked to take me to an old barber shop in Racine to get me a haircut that would look presentable. I think he had been going there for years. It was a prototypical old barber shop with ancient magazines on a table next to the chairs on the side, and someone who seemed to be perpetually waiting for something, or someone. There were old barber chairs and an old white haired barber with a flat top haircut. The old barber would talk about fishing or hunting or sports while he gave me a very conservative haircut.
Grandad told me a story about a small town barber somewhere, it might have been Phillips. I don't remember if he said it happened to him, or someone else. Whoever the story was about took their kid to this small town barber. After the barber was done, he said, "That'll be two dollars."
The subject of the story looked at the kid's new haircut, paid and said, "You know what they get for a haircut like that in Chicago?"
The small town barber beamed and said with obvious pride, "No, how much do they get in Chicago?"
"Five to ten months."
"You know what a drismal is?"
Without waiting for a reply, grandad would explain, "A drismal is a combination of a drip and a dismal." Then he would chuckle.
If a grandson did something that didn't seem very intelligent to grandad, he might say something like, "You're a card carrying member of the N A B C W club."
"Do you know what that is?"
Without waiting for a reply, grandad would explain, "It's the Not A Brain Cell Working Club," followed by a chuckle.
If a grandson stopped doing some assigned task, like splitting wood for kindling, and started doing some useless activity like trying to drop the hatchet so it would stick in a stump, grandad might say, "Stop fiddle farting around and get that wood split."
If there was a greater sense of urgency and the task was important, like getting the car loaded before dark, and a grandson was neglecting the task due to some especially useless activity, like throwing rocks at a tree, grandad might say, "Stop that fiddle fucking around and get the car loaded."
If grandad thought a grandson's hair was too long or not combed or otherwise unpresentable, he might say, "You look like a portable brush heap."
Once, when I had long hair, he said, "You look like a fruit." I tried to explain that fruits don't really have long hair that much any more, if they ever did, and besides, I didn't care if I looked like a fruit. I also talked about how long hair was fashionable in the seventeen and eighteen hundreds, so maybe I was paying tribute to the founding fathers. My arguments seemed to make no impression on him.
Another time, when I had longer hair, he said, "Why would anyone want to purposely make themselves look like an asshole?" I chuckled. What can you say to that?
Grandad liked to take me to an old barber shop in Racine to get me a haircut that would look presentable. I think he had been going there for years. It was a prototypical old barber shop with ancient magazines on a table next to the chairs on the side, and someone who seemed to be perpetually waiting for something, or someone. There were old barber chairs and an old white haired barber with a flat top haircut. The old barber would talk about fishing or hunting or sports while he gave me a very conservative haircut.
Grandad told me a story about a small town barber somewhere, it might have been Phillips. I don't remember if he said it happened to him, or someone else. Whoever the story was about took their kid to this small town barber. After the barber was done, he said, "That'll be two dollars."
The subject of the story looked at the kid's new haircut, paid and said, "You know what they get for a haircut like that in Chicago?"
The small town barber beamed and said with obvious pride, "No, how much do they get in Chicago?"
"Five to ten months."
posted by danteand at 10/10/2005 08:46:00 PM
2 Comments:
Im in the CIYC club as well, hence the reason i look like a convict.
Now I think I'll get to some fiddle fucken around...
Ross looks like he already served his sentence for his self inflicted haircut, and Obladi will definitely get six months for his. At least he would in Chicago. NYC? Probably just probation.
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