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Posts Tagged ‘Humor’


Every once in a while an Indian (read American Indian) will give a friend or family member a nickname. Sometimes these names are given just for fun, other times they are given to help that person be humble. “Dances With Wolves” comes to mind.

I actually know some of my aunts and uncles by their nicknames: Ishky, Bunny, and Boogens are three.

I told my wife that I finally figured out what her Indian nickname was.

“Well, what is it?”, she asked.

“Too Many Pillows”, I said.

She laughed… because she knew it was true.

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A Bear In Our Lair


I hear a bear growling in our lair.
Her rumble is everywhere!
It bounces off the walls and ceiling
leaving me unsettled feeling.

I can’t sleep.
Not a peep!

So I’m driven to my den
growling follows even then!

I hear it muted,
through floor and walls.
Smiling now the growling palls.

Now eyelids close,
and head drops down,
her growling pleasant susurround.

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I found this picture while searching for family photos at the Minnesota Historical Society way back in ’77. (1977, not 1877)

I managed to find out where I could write to Bob Hope at the time and sent him a copy, hoping that he might have some information about it. I received this letter from him along with my returned photo.
Bob Hope Letter
Mr. Hope couldn’t provide me with any new information except to suggest it may have been taken in a studio. (I was thinking Cali-for-nii-aa) but I was pleased nonetheless to have received a personal letter back along with his autograph!

I recently signed up for a five day free trial of Newspapers.com (I needed a credit card but was told how I could easily cancel my trial before the five days were up.)
During that period, I pretty much dedicated myself to looking up as many possible Ancestor references for myself and friends who were interested. I probably looked at a thousand possible articles and was rewarded with a score or more, which I “Clipped” and then downloaded. This was one of them.
Bob Hope and Ben Littlecreek at the Nicollet Hotel
Yep, same top hat, same sport coat, same two people. BINGO!!! Mystery solved.

Part of the article reads:

“Forever a gagster, Bob Hope invaded Minneapolis Monday. He put on a two-hour stage show in Minneapolis Auditorium. Sang a duet with Mayor Eric G. Hoyer, said nasty things about Bing Crosby, and was made an honorary Indian. Most of the shenanigans took place in Nicollet Hotel, where, among other things, the ski-nosed comedian attended a dinner put on by the Theadore Peterson American Legion Post.

*   *   *

In Picture below, Hope meets Chief Ben Littlecreek of the Red Lake Chippewa Indian Tribe. Hope made the Chief an honorary “Paleface”, from the movie by the same name.”

As a side note, I like Hope’s irony here. That’s the first time I’ve heard of an Indian being made an honorary Paleface!

All kidding aside, for you genealogy buffs out there, Try the Newspaper.com free Trial. It was worth it! (And, they actually made cancelling the trial easy!) All irony aside, I will pay for a subscription–which I can get for just one month if I want–should I need to research other ancestors in the future.

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several maple trees tapped with buckets

In my zeal to tap Maple Sugar Trees

I did not look up high to see

this one was dead.

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Once, one of my brothers was wild ricing with a friend of his.
As accidents go, somehow the canoe tipped over and they and all their wild rice ended up in the lake.

Nonetheless, even though they appeared to be in water that was about four feet deep, the bottom was covered in a kind of silt that the natives call “Loon Poo” (socially acceptable last word substitution). My brother probably believed that after millennia of loons, fish, and other animals depositing their offal, that this layer was tens if not hundreds of feet deep.

If this were the case, and if he tried to stand on it, he probably thought as many Anishinabeg used to think (and some like me still do when no one is looking) that he would be sucked down to the depths by Misshipeshew–the great water Lynx, and drowned, never to be found again. Or perhaps, his body perfectly preserved, not found again by some anthropologist until the lake drained thousands of years later  and put on display in a museum somewhere.

These things being probable might explain why my brother–being a decent swimmer, was floundering around in four feet of water trying not to touch bottom as the overturned canoe floated one way, the paddles and other gear all floating away in their various directions.

His life was irrevocably changed, when his friend, who had already found a solution behind him, smirkingly called him by name and uttered these two fateful words.

“Crick

.

.

.

stand up.”

.

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Nanabozhu was pleased to see that Hi’iaka came to pick him up to take him to the luau. At least, if he was going to his doom, it would be on the arm of another beautiful woman.

 

When they got there, it was a little before sunset and flames from the tiki torches added to the ambiance. Pele’s family packed the place. All but the immediate family sat at great long tables filled with colorful fruit drinks in pineapple shells with their little umbrellas.

 

There were tables where you could either have a traditional Hawaiian meal or any kind of starchy sugary mainland food you desired. Naturally Nanabozhu figured if he was going to his doom that he would stuff himself silly, which is what he attempted to do.

 

 After dinner Hi’iaka again pulled Pele away, this time to help her change her outfit into one for a special Hula, where the wife dances for her husband to be. Nanabozhu quickly leaned over to Haumea and Kuwahailo.

 

“Okay, what’s this plan you mentioned yesterday?”

 

“Why, that you will marry Pele, and everything will turn out all right in the end,”  said Kuwahailo.

 

Nanabozhu’s eyes got wide. “Who came up with a plan like that?!” Nanabozhu said, rising in his seat to match the rise to his outside voice! This caused the people nearest and around them to glance at him inquisitively.

 

“Maui did. Didn’t he tell you?” Haumea answered innocently.

 

Just then, Nanabozhu felt a slight pressure on his arm and turned to find Maui had appeared beside him, gentling him down. Maui had on the best and biggest toothy grin that you will find anywhere.

 

Nanabozhu groaned, shook his head and buried his face in his hands. “I should have known.” His shoulders shook and he made little sobs as if he were crying.

 

Maui just laughed. “I really am looking out for everyone’s best interest, Nanabozhu.” he said. “If you didn’t marry Pele, she would get so angry that she would literally blow her stack, and everyone would be destroyed. But if you marry her, and then something should happen to you afterwards…our people will be saved. Pele may be upset at such a turn of events but she will not be as upset as she would be if you jilted her. The oracles have told me that when the time is right, you will find an opportunity to do what needs to be done and make the necessary sacrifice.”

 

“Oh this is just getting better and better.” Nanabozhu commented dryly.

 

At this point, the house lights extinguished and their attention was directed to the stage next to which their little table stood. There posed Pele, just out of earshot. She was resplendent in nothing but traditional Hula fronds, looking directly into Nanabozhu’s eyes.

 

Nohona Ho'olaule'a

Copyright RandyJayBraun.com

Despite his reservations, from this point on, Nanabozhu did not have a chance. While before, he had the strength to resist her glamour, strong as it was, when they were together, he could not help but be entranced by that combined with the magic she wove with the Hula  at the Luau.

 

He really did fall in love with her.
Then they did the wedding Hula and just like that, they were married.
The Wedding Dance

Copyright RandyJayBraun.com

What followed was a night of connubial bliss.

 Connubial Bliss

Wow! thought Nanabozhu as he dozed off afterward. I should do this more often.
 
***
 
The silvery light of the full moon, the time difference, and a loud strange rumbling noise woke Nanabozhu a couple of hours before the sun came up. He affectionately glanced over to where he expected to find his beautiful bride.

 

“HOLY COW!” He yelled. He couldn’t believe he didn’t wake her up, but lying next to him and snoring was a weary, aged, and ugly, wrinkled old Hawaiian crone. Her mouth was slightly open and she was drooling onto her pillow. This was the true form to which Pele reverted when she was sleeping.

 

Nanabozhu heard of Red Lakers waking up the morning-after without their beer goggles on, but being sober all along, this was scary, even for him! “I am SO not ready for this!” he exclaimed to himself.

 

(The conclusion tomorrow…)

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How many Red Lakers does it take to change a light bulb?

One to four,

depending on their blood quantum. 🙂

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