Get off my lawn.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Dale and the Lost Minutes

Here's a little story about a guy named Dale. I saw him and his wife at a bar last night.
He said he had had a long hard day hoisting a Coleman Camping Flask. He smoked a cigarette, which isn't normal for him. (He's not even a social smoker!) There was a TV in the bar playing videos, and I liked the song that was playing. I said "I like this song". Dale just sat there and didn't say anything. He had a look on his face that WWII vets used to call "The Thousand Yard Stare". It's as if the guy is staring at something 1000 yards away. Anyway, he didn't say a word. I thought "Well, I do like this song. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean you have to just sit there and stare like that. Jackass." I snapped a picture, holstered my camera, and assumed a Kung-Fu pose, expecting a fight to break out. He just sat there staring.

About 30 seconds later, he started to nod his head. Not exactly fore-and-aft, and not exactly side-to-side either. Kind of unusual. I thought maybe he liked the song after all, and was grooving... After all, the name 'Dale' means 'Black Stranger' in Scottish. I thought "if he's a Scot, his black-guy rhythm genes might be taking over". I didn't know for sure.

Then, all at once, he got funky. He said "Blooooorg". I said "what?" Dale repeated: "Bloooooooooorg!", and slopped something on his shirt. Then he jumped off the chair he was sitting on, dropped to his knees, and performed a dance move I like to call "Smack the pool table with your head." He scooted around on his face a little bit. People around him were freaking out on his groundbreaking moves.

His wife jumped into the fray and joined him for some kind of close-dancing action, even though it was kind of a fast song. She grabbed him and hoisted him to his feet, just as the song ended. Pretty cool. She and Dale went outside to chill on a bench. Someone said Dale might perform a few tricks, so I headed out to watch.

By this time, I had figured out that Dale knew some language I wasn't familiar with. He said "Pflugh", and his wife quickly presented a bucket for his close inspection.

He said that same word ("Blooooorg") into the bucket. Based on observation, I think that "bloorg" means "I approve of this."

Although I didn't get a picture of it, he and his wife did a trick called "The Human Milk Shake Machine." It was a pretty good trick: She was the operator, and he was the machine. She'd put the bucket in front of his face, and pull on his head like it was a handle. He would shout "blorg" into the bucket. It was weird. I wonder if they're from eastern Europe or something? This stuff would be popular with people from that area.

Then, as soon as it started, the show was over. A white minivan appeared at the curb, and Dale was escorted to it. We tagged along and took pictures of him with his "towel-hat" on after he fell asleep.


  • At 7:23 AM , Blogger Dale Cooper said...

    This is dang funny! Say hello to Dale for me and tell him we are only immortal for a limited time!


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