Archive for March, 2013

The Demise and Resurrection of Bob Hope

I wanna tell ya folks, I play golf in the 80's. Any hotter I won't play. I wanna tell ya folks, I play golf in the 80’s. Any hotter I won’t play.

On Bob Hope’s deathbed in 2003 the Very Reverend Jesse Jackson was ministering to the 100 year old comedian. And as the good reverend turned his dusky gaze skyward he beseeched God to, “Keep Hope alive! Keep hope alive! God Almighty we must keep hope alive!”

That evening all the clocks in Bob’s hometown of Toluca Lake were set ahead 1 hour so Bob could fall forward one last time. As death’s shadow lurked nearby, Mr. Hope beckoned his physician to come close. The doctor placed his ear near Bob’s mouth and heard him haltingly express in a raspy voice, “Hey Doc…that Murine Ear Wax Removal system – you really should use it. Seriously Doc. Yuck.” 

Later that same evening Bob summoned Tony Danza who arrived fresh from a dinner theater engagement at The Velvet Turtle. The former Taxi and Who’s the Boss? star revered Mr. Hope and Bob had something of great importance to tell the streetsmart entertainer. Mr. Danza leaned over and placed his ear close to Bob’s mouth while Bob unburdened himself with a death bed confession of sorts:  Read the rest of this entry »

Lydia’s Hysterical Pregnancy: So Funny it Hurts

 

My dear Lydia - I just joke at a woman and she gets pregnant. My dear Lydia. I just joke at a woman and she gets pregnant.

I was introduced to my future wife, Lydia Gamehen, by her sister Cornish, whom I met at a 2010 Toyotathon Sales Event. I was there to buy a Camry and Cornish was there to sweep the floor. You see Cornish was temporarily out of prison on a work-release program and as such she was a “free-range prisoner.” She’d been imprisoned for teaching Creationism at Harvard (funny how that works both ways). Anyway we chatted for a bit and I asked her what it was like to be a free-range Cornish Gamehen. “Are you stringier because you’re allowed to move about freely?”

She put her broom away and we went outside where she freely roamed the parking lot. “Y’know, you’re funny in a Pat Sajak kind of way,” she observed. “What’s your name?”

“Edsel. Edsel Lomax,” I stated.

“Well Ed, you should meet my sister Lydia. She hasn’t had a good laugh in years,” Cornish related. Read the rest of this entry »