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The
Yard
Yeti
Show
Broadcasting
Live!
From
The
Simmering
Summer
Olympics...
Yes, it's me. Your favorite Yard Yeti broadcasting
live from the Summer Olympic Games. Today, in honor of the festivities, I
will be substituting the Noon Whistle sound effects with the peals of
Big Ben ringing out over the airwaves. A personal thank you to Big Ben
Franklin, our proud sponsor, for the loan of their Big Ben alarm clock, a
$3.95 value on special today,
Aisle 3, lower shelf.
"Tick Tock goes the clock...time won't stand still.
But we can...let's catch up." (My trademarked and truly original
opening line.)
It's Yard Yeti Time!
...Sitting here in my front row seat at the 40th
Main Street Olympics, clad in my yellow wellies, my American Made
Designer Overalls, my incredibly chic argyle leg warmers, matching terry
cloth sweatband and wrist guards. I would like to thank another
sponsor, the Main Street Women's Guild, for using their sewing circle
time (SCT) to create an exact replica of my Olympic garb for my trusted
pet parakeet, Pepper. I cannot believe how you all managed to make those
stretchy anklet socks that look just like my yellow wellies. Pepper
would thank you, but he keeps sliding off his perch and is less than
appropriate when he tries to stick the landing and fails.
(Looks like I will be using the MUTE button instead
of the three second delay as Pepper's Tasteless Tweets are trending on
Twitter.)
And now the local weather update. Hot and dry. Dry and hot. Heat Lightning and Hot Flashes. Arid.
Parched. Thirsty.
Parched. Thirsty.
In desperate need of a cool drop of...
Pepper just said...no water for me...I prefer mine NEAT.
Ladies and gentlemen, I have little or no control
here, so excuse me while I tickle the little guy's tonsils with tequila
and then maybe we can get on with the show.
The police blotter is particularly full this week
as Main Street was shut down in both directions while the grandstands
and the bleachers were erected. As our only policeman, Gilbert Dewey,
has no patrol car, he was hospitalized mid week for heat exhaustion and a
nasty thigh rash after chasing down speeders on foot.
An update on his condition will be upcoming in the hospital report.
Cue the ambulance sirens. Woo. Woo. Woo.
Officer Gilbert Dewey was released this morning and
has returned to active duty as the Chief of Security for all Olympic
Events. Thanks to the Thursday afternoon Card Club members for needle
pointing the official SECURITY insignia on the brim of his bright yellow
mesh ball cap.
Unfortunately, the metallic thread set off the metal detector at the Flickering Flame Restaurant and a mild panic ensued, until everyone was assured that the Flame had not gone OUT. Just flickered.
Unfortunately, the metallic thread set off the metal detector at the Flickering Flame Restaurant and a mild panic ensued, until everyone was assured that the Flame had not gone OUT. Just flickered.
The OFFICIAL FLAME OF THE OLYMPIC GAME is FINE.
It took three extension cords and some duct tape, but the light shines on.
Well, a little off and a little on,
but that's what flickering means, for heaven's sake.
Mayor Yoo-Hoo, dressed in white belt, white shoes
and burgundy polyester slacks is our Master of Ceremonies and the
infamous Mr. and Mrs.
We-Have-Nothing-Else-To-Do-Except-Watch-Our-Neighbors-Through-Our-Window-Because-We-Are-Too-Cheap-To-Pay-For-Cable
will be the official Olympic judges as they are, well they are the MOST
judgmental folks we know and jumped at the chance to rate their
neighbors imperfections on a scale from one to ten. Perfect.
Our competitors hail from all four corners of the
world. We secured these Olympic Games as we are the Heartland of the
America. Main Street USA. Where doing our personal best everyday is our
motto.
Actually, our motto is more succinct.
"Don't just sit there, DO something".
OUR champions are outstanding in their fields.
Well...yes...there they all are...
Out standing in their fields.
The Dream Team? The Yard Yetis. The top qualifiers.
Brimming with confidence and dripping with sweat. How do they achieve
such notoriety? With the sweat on their brows. With the dirt under their
fingernails. With back breaking labor from before the sun rises and
well after the sun sets. Practicing their routines on the apparatus and
arm wrestling with Mother Nature. Strong. Proud. Ruthless and Restless
Warrior Women. Athletes of the Acreage.
Yard Yetis Extraordinaire.
The Schedule of Upcoming Events:
A Synchronized Activity Of Some Sort...TBA
Tractor and Weed Pulling
Fence Post Sitting
Aquatics at the Aquatic Center just north of town a
mile off the blacktop turn left at the sign for the Bountiful Buffet
and Resort.
Can You Hit The Side Of A Barn Basketball
Swine Showmanship
Garden Drainage and Pest Management
Garden Gnome Volleyball
...and the Olympic favorite...only for Senior Yetis...
The Grow A Beard Contest
Under strict management rules, our Olympics will be
tape delayed, and all the scores will be posted on the Internet BEFORE
you actually witness the events. That is, we have to wait for Pepper to
sober up.
We hope that you all will come back next week once
we have time to tabulate all the scores, all the participants have been
released from the hospital, and traffic on Main Street has returned to
normal.
I, your favorite Yard Yeti, will be on hand with my
faithful and slightly sick sidekick, Pepper. I warn him again and again
about riding the TIlt-A-Whirl on a stomach full of corn
dogs...but...noooooo
Spoiler Alert:
I, myself, will be competing in the 400 meter
freestyle. If you could see me waving through your radio, I am sitting
here in my swim goggles and swim cap, practicing my strokes. My nickname
is " The Minnow". That's all I am going to tell you, just to wet your
whistle! (Pepper just perked up as he is ready to wet his whistle.
Naughty birdie. Wait until you see him in his neon Speedo and matching
swim fins.)
And now for our special guest of the week and fellow Yard Yeti,
Fifi Forget-Me-Not.
A high FIVE for FIFI!
Better make that a high ONE as she forgot the other FOUR.
Fifi is wearing a string around her little finger
and her wrist and her ankle. The first to Remember, the second as a
Reminder to Remember and the third as a decorative ankle bracelet with
her name and address on it for the day she is so lost in her thoughts
she can't find her way home. Forgetting, they say, is a sure sign of an
aging addled brain, where pieces of personal history hide in a locked
cabinet in the middle of a maze.
Forgive and forget.
Forget and forgive.
Or as Fifi would say...just forget it. Fifi knows
about missteps and misspeaks that she would like to blot out forever.
Well, get out your shovel. Find a nice shady spot. Dig a hole. Drop in the error of your ways. Smooth things over with the toe of your boot. Turn your back. Walk away.
And just like the line from the movie "Goodfellas"...foggeddaboudit.
Follow Fifi's advice...and mine...keep your name
and address securely tied to your ankle and you will always find your
way Home. Even through a yard with so many holes it looks like a bad
case of moles.
Home. Here behind the microphone. A tired BROAD at the end of another BROADcast day.
Ready to lean in to whisper my trademarked signature sign off...
"You're secrets are safe with me,
except for the ones I posted on the Internet. "
You can find me on your dial at Station GVWM (GardenVarietyWisdomMedia Inc.)
... with the Yellow Wellies Logo...
...and the Threepots on the windowsill...
In the meantime, flex your muscles and then just like me,
schedule an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon.
For all of you new to the show...I have archived the shows for you here...so you can "catch up".
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