Yearly Archives

2018

Day three of an Adventure in the Daddy Zone with my father

by Mark Eades November 1, 2018

We got up early and decided to forego breakfast so we could start off up I-15 to Pleasant Grove, Utah.

My Dad looking out at the scenery in the Virgin River Gorge.

For a lot of the drive in Nevada and Utah, and the little corner of Arizona, it was very windy, as we were driving into the wind and it buffeted us around a bit on the road.

A semi-truck and trailer overturned due to high winds on the median of I-15 north of Las Vegas.

But we did not have it as bad as one truck driver on I-15 in Nevada as somehow his (or her) semi ended up (trailer and all) upside down on the median.

The winds were high enough to overturn this tractor-trailer rig and blow it into the median on I-15 north of Las Vegas.

It was about a 15-minute delay to get past the wreck where the crews were working to pull it up and out of there.

Then it was onto to St. George, Utah – through the Virgin River Gorge.

The beautiful scenery of the upper end of the Virgin River Gorge.

It’s a beautiful drive through the gorge, sadly there is no place to stop and take photos until you are almost out of the gorge.

We ended up in St. George and stopped off at the Denny’s in the south part of town for breakfast right around 10:55 in the morning, then realized it was really 11:55 in the morning as we had entered a new time zone.

The next stop was a well-time visit to one of Utah’s very nice Rest Areas.

A rest area on I-15 in Utah that was very clean. California should take lessons on road maintenance and rest areas from Utah.

The bathrooms in this facility were as clean as those in Eddie World. But we also discovered that it was a lot colder here than in Vegas or California. And the wind was still blowing.

My silver Nissan Versa Note parked at the rest stop along I-15 in Utah. It was very pretty in this area.

Oh, and while we were at this stop, I made Dad finally find his sunglasses and put them in the glove compartment and be able to conveniently wear them.

Then it was back on the road. We gassed up in Cedar City, then drove on.

Then it was onward and we didn’t stop again until we got to Pleasant Grove. I had to pull off the interstate to look up the location of our hotel for two days, a Holiday Dad Inn Express.

The mountains as seen from out hotel room in Pleasant Grove, Utah.

It’s a nice room with a nice view.

Then we made an amazing discovery! There is a restaurant in Pleasant Grove called (drum roll please!) Jim’s Family Restaurant.

Jim’s Family Restaurant in Pleasant Grove, Utah. I didn’t know my Dad had a restaurant named after him.

Well of course we had to eat dinner there.

My Dad at his namesake restaurant in Pleasant Grove, Utah.

The owner also is Greek and besides the normal (large) family types of foods and sandwiches, he has some Greek food too. I had a marinated Pork dinner. Delicious. Dad ordered a Grilled Pastrami Burger with cheese, but after eating my soup decided to save the sandwich until tomorrow.

It’s a warm and friendly atmosphere inside Jim’s Family Restaurant. Something my Dad really liked – so did I.

Then it was up to the room for the night when Dad made a quirky discovery: The knob on the bathtub faucet could not be pulled up easily to divert the water up into the shower head. So we went down and got the hotel manager and we got it fixed. Thank goodness.

So now it’s time for bed as tomorrow we will go to Evermore Park where my good friend, former Disney Imagineer Josh Shipley, was the creative director for this brand-new themed entertainment experience.

Here’s a link to Day Two of our adventure.

November 1, 2018 0 comment

aging Daddy Zone fatherhood

Day two of an Adventure in the Daddy Zone with my father

by Mark Eades October 31, 2018

Well, it’s our second day in Las Vegas and after a hearty breakfast (he had a ham an cheese omelet, I had French Toast) in Bugsy’s (the restaurant inside the El Cortez Hotel and Casino); we decided to go over to Hoover Dam to see the bridge they built 880 feet above the Colorado River to the south of the dam.

No, that’s not Dad with me in this photo.

Of course, this was after we check our multi-game Keno tickets to see what money we might have one. We both got some money, but not enough to cover what we had spent on the multi-game tickets.

A view out the window of the El Cortez towards the Las Vegas Strip.

Oh well, we bought new tickets, then headed out.

A view of Lake Mead as we headed towards Hoover Dam.

We actually drove out Fremont Street, which turns into Boulder Highway for most of the way, just to look at all the run down and closed up motels along the way.

The Hoover Dam Lodge and Casino, a nice place to make a pit stop on the way to Hoover Dam. Nice clean bathrooms!

Then, after getting on the freeway, Dad announced he needed to make a “pit stop.” Fortunately, the Hoover Dam Lodge and Casino was just at the next off-ramp – only a mile. So we got off the freeway and went inside the place so Dad could do his “duty.” By the way, it’s a very nice place with lots of interesting history on the construction of Hoover Dam.

My Dad, Jim Eades, looks down upon Hoover Dam from the bridge.

Okay, that was done and on to the overlook for the Mike O’Callaghan–Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge, which is the actual highway now between Nevada and Arizona.

At the top of the switchbacks trail leading to the overlook of the dam and the bridge.

We climbed a multitude of switchbacks on the walk up to the overlook, which were built very ADA compliant, by the way, with a grade of a 1-foot rise for every 12-feet. We both walked all the switchbacks up and down, rather than take the stairs

It’s a long drop from that bridge to the Colorado River below. But a great view of Hoover Dam. You can see the water level of Lake Mead is fairly low.

Once at the top, we walked out on the bridge on the pedestrian walkway to take in the view of Hoover Dam. We were 880 feet above the surface of the Colorado River below, south of the dam. A scary height indeed. The wind was blowing pretty hard too, so Dad had to carry his “Pop Pop” baseball hat so it would not blow away into the canyon below.

The bridge over the Colorado River near Hoover Dam.

You can still drive, very slowly, across Hoover Dam. But once across, you will have to turn around and drive back across, as it is no longer a throughway for traffic.

Cars still drive very slowly across Hoover Dam.

Then we drove through Boulder City on the way back to Vegas. That afternoon, after myself doing a little bit of my freelance work, we both went out to “check on our investment” in Las Vegas. (You know, gamble.)

These folks from Michigan were all having Bloody Marys at the Golden Nugget’s Bar 46. (They make an excellent Manhattan there, by the way.)

But before I hit the poker room at the Golden Nugget, I had a Manhattan at its Bar 46, where I met up with a group from Michigan who had flown into town and made that bar their first stop to have their version of Bloody Marys. (Seven of them in all!) They proclaimed them the best they’d ever had.

An interesting character on Fremont Street.

I won some of the money I had lost the night before playing poker by, playing poker.

While walking back to the El Cortez from the Golden Nugget, I did run into a few interesting characters along the way.

I think this guy behind me lost all his money at the Craps tables.

Sadly, neither mine, nor my Dad’s numbers all came in that night at Keno.

Then it was on to dinner at Bugsy’s. We both had Rib-Eye steaks. But in Dad’s case he did have a hard time eating it, so I gladly finished it for him. We also washed it down with three (apiece) glasses of red wine – the wine was free due to the donations we both made in the Keno lounge.

A very fast asleep Pop Pop.

So now that we’ve both had all that wine, we’re both very sleepy. He’s all ready asleep and I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open. So, it’s on to bed, then on to Pleasant Grove, Utah tomorrow.

In case you missed it, here’s a link to the Day One story.

October 31, 2018 0 comment

aging Daddy Zone fatherhood

Day one of An Adventure in the Daddy Zone with my father

by Mark Eades October 30, 2018

Day one of the 23-day road trip with my 85-year-old father started out innocently enough, we were just going to go to Vegas for a couple nights. After all, he had a few free nights at his favorite hotel: The El Cortez downtown.

But once we hit the road, we encountered our first little problem as we were climbing up to Cajon Pass on I-15, he could not find his sunglasses. He thought he had put them in one bag, the easily accessible one, but no. Oh well, he’d have to live without them if he had left them at home.

So, it was on to Victorville for our first stop, the traditional breakfast at Denny’s on Palmdale Road. We both had the same breakfast off the senior citizen menu, the scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, bacon and pancakes. Then it was time to pay for the meal, which was on him.

Well. we encountered our second snafu. He attempted to use one of his credit cards to pay for the meal, and tip, but the machine rejected it. So he ended up using another card. But why it wasn’t being accepted was a puzzler. More on that in a bit.

Mark Eades stands near the giant ice cream sundae at Eddie World.

Fed and paid for, we went along on I-15 to our next stop, the newest tourist trap along the road to Vegas: Eddie World.

The wall of Los Angeles Lakers memorabilia on a wall inside Eddie World.

The owner is a big Lakers fan, and has a giant wall that shows his love of the Lakers.

Even the toilet handles at Eddie World are clean as with each opening of the handle, a new plastic cover slips over the handle – see Ma? No germs.

One of the selling points of Eddie World is that it has the cleanest bathrooms anywhere along that route, and I have to agree. Even the handles in the toilet stalls are set up with plastic that gets replaced every time someone uses them.

For a tourist trap they have some good food, even build your own pizza that is baked in a wood-fired oven.

They also sell a large variety of their own produced candies, wood-fired pizzas, fresh-ground hamburgers, and there’s even a section with multiple flavors of ice cream. In addition, there’s a jerky stand with a whole lot of varieties of jerky, and a Peet’s coffee counter.

Some of the stuff sold in Eddie World.

After spending some time inside, Dad decided to call the people about his refused credit card. Turned out they had sent him a new one, and he had neglected to validate it. So not only was the card he was carrying invalid, they invalidated the one probably sitting at home. But no worries, he had other cards and would be able to pay his share of the trip.

So now, after some photo ops, it was on to Vegas. We got there, and after checking in at the hotel, he immediately went down to the Keno Lounge and bought his favorite numbers for 100 games, then lost at a video poker machine.

I went over to the Golden Nugget to the real poker room and played for a few hours, but never really got any good cards and after about three hours, had spent my limit for the day.

Back to the hotel, we rested for a bit in the hotel room while I did some editing on a freelance article due in a couple days, then we went out to check out the crazy sights in downtown Las Vegas and have a light supper.

One of the crazy characters to be found on the Fremont Street Experience in Las Vegas.

Trust me, there are plenty of crazy sights in the downtown area called the Fremont Street Experience including many characters willing to pose for photo ops, for a donation of course.

If you’re heavy enough, and finish your meal, it’s free.

We thought about eating at the Heart Attack Grill, but instead dined on chili dogs at the American hot dog stand that sells Coney Island chili dogs at “The D.” Then went inside to take a look at the girls wearing go-go boots dancing behind the blackjack tables.

An art display sponsored by LYFT in downtown Las Vegas.

Then we went outside to visit Manneken Pis, a copy of a famous statue in Brussels. And, of course, I took a photo of Dad standing by the statue.

We wandered around a bit more, taking in all the lights, sound and craziness, then we two older men decided it was time to shower and bed down for the night.

All in all, a nice start to what should be a memorable trip.

October 30, 2018 1 comment

Knott's Berry Farm theme parks

Can the Catawampus make a comeback at Knott’s Berry Farm?

by Mark Eades August 23, 2018

At Knott’s Berry Farm in Ghost Town, near the stables and beneath the windmill stands an odd creature known as the Catawampus, or “Species Extinct.” Here is a link to Part 1 of my journey of discovery to learn more about this odd creature. Here is a link to Part 2 of my journey. Here is a link to Part 3. Here is a link to Part 4. Part 5, the last part for now, of the journey is below, read on…

Professor Ananias’ journal ended with his getting on a run as an engineer on the railroad that ran through Cajon Pass. Apparently, he left the railroad to, and we can only guess at this point, continue on his search for the Catawampus in the hills and mountains in that area.

There were unconfirmed reports that he ended up along the headwaters of the Santa Ana River in the nearby San Bernardino Mountains. But he was never heard from again. The only evidence was his journal, which was found in an abandoned cabin years ago, and donated to a local library where it languished on the shelves, and eventually found.

But that’s not the end of the story.

Years later, the son of Professor Ananias’ sister came west, wondering what had happened to him. He knew of the professor’s obsession with the Catawampus and retraced his steps, eventually finding the abandoned cabin and the journal shared here.

The son, however, needed work and eventually ended up in Orange County, working as a laborer for some of the farmers in the area.

Those white flowers on the boysenberry vine are future berries.

He eventually met up with Rudolph Boysen, who worked as the superintendent of city parks for Anaheim. Rudolph showed him some vines of a plant that grew purple berries growing along the banks of the Santa Ana River, and offered him some. They were very tasty.

Boysen told him that he had seen what appeared to be tracks, only they were made up of round holes like from a wooden cane. This was similar to the description of the tracks made by the Catawampus as he had read in his uncle’s journal.

Boysen also noted that when the plant dropped its leaves every year, he rarely had any to rake up, as if someone had been there and taken them all.

The berries drew the attention of Walter Knott, who took some cuttings from Boysen, and in a few years successfully turned Boysenberries (as Knott named them) into a booming business.

Anianas’ nephew went to work for Knott, and, at times, saw the same strange tracks – but never saw a Catawampas at that time.

As Knott’s enterprise grew to include Mrs. Knott’s Chicken Dinner Restaurant and then the added Ghost Town, the farm started to give way, with less and less fields to tend to. But Ananias’ nephew stayed on, caring for the vegetation at the farm. As the farm grew into an amusement enterprise, there were more and more attractions, and less and less actual farm land.

About that time the nephew met a man named Forrest Morrow. He had been told to find the nephew by Knott. Morrow had talked to Knott about creating a new location for a special collection of animals, called Wood-imals. He’d heard about the Catawampus, and thought it would make a fine addition to his collection. They would all be given a safe place to live and, as they generally did not move around during the day, it would be a unique place for kids to run and play. The place would be called Jungle Island.

However, Ananias’ nephew told him he had not seen one, though there was evidence of them being in the area. Morrow offered to help catch one or two.

What Morrow did, after reading up on the Catawampus in the professor’s journal, was suggest a way to trap one alive.

He brought in a stuffed, dead coyote, then rigged up a loudspeaker connected to a record player that would play sounds of a coyote howling. They decided to do it one night in the fields when there was no moon.

They stayed up late one night, waiting. After things got quiet, they turned on the record player. The howls could be heard across the boysenberry field. Then, after an hour, they heard the sound of a bell connected to the trap. They rushed out with their flashlights and there, in the cage, was a Catawampus.

As usual, it did not move when confronted by humans.

Morrow gently picked up the cage and put it in his pickup truck, along with a good helping of boysenberry plant leaves.

Later, he told the nephew he never saw the Catawampus move, though he did hear occasional mooing sounds coming from where he kept all the caged Wood-imals.

Months passed by, as Jungle Island was built. Then Morrow brought all his Wood-imals to the island and placed them throughout the place, opening the island in 1964.

Kids loved the place, and the Wood-imals had a place to live, and kids visiting Knott’s Berry Farm had a place to run and romp.

But eventually, progress took its toll and the island was changed into a nature area less then 20 years later. Most of the Wood-imals eventually disappeared.

Vines of the Boysenberry plant are thriving and doing well at Knott’s Berry Farm. Photo by Mark Eades

But the one Catawampus left somehow lived on. It is thought it still fed on Boysenberry plant leaves, the few that were left around Knott’s. And because coyotes occasionally roamed through the area, undoubtedly feeding on the chickens living there, it would occasionally catch a coyote for a meal.

Anania’s nephew finally left the farm for the east too, deciding he had finally seen his uncle’s Catawampus, and verified all the claims found in the journal and wanted to present the findings to the university that had laughed at him. But he never made it there, the victim of an automobile accident.

Still, one, lone Catawampus could be seen around Knott’s Berry Farm over the years, even as the Boysenberry plant all but disappeared. In fact, for a couple years there was only one plant that survived the loss of the farming of boysenberries in the area. It grew, quite by accident, by the farm’s train “roundhouse” and the engineers that cared for the engines kept it alive.

Then, a few years back, the farm decided it needed to bring back its legacy, and planted some boysenberry vines by the little lake. As the vines grew and berries appeared, the Catawampus – which had not looked well, seemed to grow too. It got healthier. It disappeared for a while, then a baby Catawampus appeared – along with the adult.

This Baby Catawampus can be seen standing next to its Momma under the Windmill in the Ghost Town Area at Knott’s Berry Farm. Photo by Mark Eades

Now both are alive and healthy, spending the daylight hours under the windmill where visitors can see them. Neither seem to be bothered by humans, but who knows? They don’t move around when people can see them.

And because there was a baby, that means there should be other Catawampus around – hiding. Could this be a sign that more Catawampus could appear around the farm, babies and adults?

One can only hope that’s the case.

August 23, 2018 0 comment

Knott's Berry Farm Railroads steam locomotives theme parks

The Catawampus have to be out here somewhere

by Mark Eades July 31, 2018

Professor Ananias’ career as a scholar in the field of rare animals was in ruins – even though he had seen a herd of Catawampus, he only had his drawing, and that drew nothing but skepticism and scorn from other scholars.

So, he left the world of academia and headed back west on the railroad, eventually working on the railroad as a fireman and then an engineer.

At first, he was on the Durango & Rio Grande Western Railroad in Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, traveling the narrow-gauge railroad line that serviced the mines and loggers there. But eventually, he hooked up with the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, ending up based out of Barstow, California.

The Catawampus as seen once upon a time at Knott’s Berry Farm.

Once there, he spent his spare time roaming the hills and mountains in a vain effort to find the Catawampus again. He would also listen to the town gossip and talk to others to see if anyone had heard of them.

No one really lived in Calico anymore, though there were a few prospectors in the hills. But none of them knew anything about the wooden creature.

One night, after getting back into town after steaming in from Arizona, he stopped off at one of the old watering holes (a bar) where he met two old codgers.

This is the entry from Professor Ananias’ journal about that meeting:

I met two older, bearded men, one was called Whiskey Bill (and he deserved the name judging by the quantities of that liquid he could down) and Handsome Brady (though how he got that name had to have been a joke!).

Statues of those famous western characters, Handsome Brady and Whiskey Bill.

I was sitting at the bar having a brandy when I overheard them talking to one of the ladies from a place called “Goldies,” and were trying to come to some sort of arrangement. During their discussion with the lady, they said that if they could come up to her place, they would take her out tomorrow to see the Catawampus. My ears perked up on hearing that.

After the lady denied their advances, I could see they had nothing else on for the evening, so I purchased a bottle, and walked over, setting the bottle in the middle of the table.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked.

Their eyes showed they had been around in the west for a long time. But they lit up when they saw the bottle.

“If y’all are sharin that, why shor,” said Whiskey Bill.

I set three glasses on the table, opened the whiskey and poured. Bill grabbed his glass and drank it down like a thirsty camel. I refilled it immediately. Bill started to drink that one, but stopped when Handsome Brady cleared his throat.

“What can we do for you stranger?” Brady asked.

I leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you mentioning a creature called a Catawampus.”

Handsome picked up his drink, looking at Bill while he slowly sipped. Bill’s eyes got a little larger, he took a short sip from his glass. Bill coughed.

“Uh, that was just talk, you know, for the lady.”

“Really?” I asked. “So, you haven’t seen one of the wooden creatures?”

Handsome seemed to choke on his drink. He set it down.
Handsome asked, “How do you know they’re made of wood?”

I looked around, no one in the bar was paying attention to us at all, but the two seemed unwilling to talk.

“I’ve heard about them too, years ago in Calico.”

They looked at me with disbelief in their eyes.

“I was there when it was booming, I’d hoped to get proof of their existence.”

Whiskey Bill asked, “What kind of proof?”

“Maybe capture one alive and take it back east to my old college.”

They both laughed.

Brady said, “If you can manage to catch one, they’ll just stop movin, and then people will think you’re nuts cuz all you’ll have is some pieces of wood.”

Bill added, “We seen a couple, we had ‘em cornered in a box canyon. They just stopped moving, they stopped their mooing – for all anyone could’ve known, they were just a prank played by some youngsters to make them look like they was livin things.”

I nodded and took a drink myself.

“Still, you’ve seen them?”

The two nodded.

“Where?”

“In the foothills on the other side of Cajon Pass,” Brady said.

I started to get up.

Bill asked, “You going to try and find ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“Well best of luck to you sir.”

I started to take the bottle, saw them both staring at me. I put the bottle back down.

Bill said, “I knew you was a gentleman when I laid eyes on you.”

I felt reborn as I walked out of that bar and headed to my place to get some sleep, I had a run across the desert, but now wanted to get on a run to Victorville, as that was much closer to the pass.

Where’d the Catawampus all go?

by Mark Eades July 18, 2018

Professor Ananias had found the old Prospector, and was learning more about the habits of the Catawampus that day and night. He did a drawing of one of the ones he saw that evening around the old Prospector’s camp.

It is indeed a strange looking creature. I’m not sure it is real to this day – but the Professor claimed it was, but all he could do was a drawing as he did not have a still camera with him, as they were very expensive back then.

This rough coal sketch of a Catawampus was created by Professor Ananias in 1881. Or so his (wink, wink) journal says.

This drawing was from his journal that I found the only copy of, so I kept reading…

September 21, 1881

I finished my sketch of one of the creatures and noticed that the herd had stopped moving. They were also getting harder to see as the old Prospector’s fire was dying down and the moon was disappearing under some clouds.

“You better get inside your tent and tie it shut, feels like a storm’s comin,” said the old Prospector.

I pointed out towards the Catawampus herd, “Why aren’t they moving around?”

The Prospector shrugged, “I think they do that so any coyotes coming by won’t know they’re alive, then they jump ‘em and get a meal.”

I just nodded, in slight disbelief. We both saw some lightning off in the distance. We both made sure our horses were secure in the Prospector’s makeshift stable, and I turned in, securely tying my tent flap.

The occasional lightning flash made it hard to sleep but I finally started dozing off when I was startled by a yelp. But it was pitch black and started to rain so stayed in my tent. I could hear some movement over where the herd was, they were in the dry wash.

The rain grew more intense, and I could hear the herd moving around – it sounded like they were moving away. Then I heard a roar of water rushing down the ravine, followed by more intense lightning and thunder and more rain. It was safer to stay in my tent on the higher ground.

Eventually the rain died down, and so did the sound of the rushing water – then it got strangely quiet. I peeked out the flap, but could not see a thing. I yawned and went back to sleep.

That morning, I woke up with a start, the horse was making some noise. I grabbed the sack of horse feed I had with me and went outside. The Prospector was at the stable, feeding his horse. I brought over my feed for my horse.

Looking around at the wash, all I could see was evidence of where the water had been, and a few small pools of water still standing – soon to be gone by the rising sun.

“Where’d they go?” I asked the Prospector.

He shrugged, “Probably run off thanks to that storm, or could have been washed downstream. But they got themselves a coyote last night.” He pointed at a carcass of a coyote, pretty much picked clean on the banks of the wash. Flies were already buzzing around the carcass.

While my horse ate its fill, I wandered down to the wash – there were no tracks of any kind.

“Thanks to that storm, you probly won’t find any tracks for them,” the Prospector said.

I nodded, but was determined to continue my journey and even try to trap one to bring back to the college. I packed up my things and thanked the Prospector.

“Good luck, they’re hard to find and can blend into any woods,” he said as I rode off.

Before going downstream, I went upstream and found that the flash flood had washed away the strange purple berry plant. The Catawampus would probably not be returning to this location any time soon. So I turned my horse around and we headed downstream.

November 1, 1881

I’ve spent the better part of a month looking for any sign of the Catawampus, but can find nothing. I hear stories once in a while, all of them pointing towards them heading up into the San Bernardino mountains.

December 20, 1881

It’s getting cold in these mountains, ice is on the ground and snow is at the higher altitudes. I’m running low on funds and have found no sign of the Catawampus at all, though have heard some talk about finding dead coyotes here and there.

As much as I hate to admit it, I must return home back east and report my findings for now. I hope my colleagues will trust what I have to say and not laugh me out of the college.

— Well that was the last entry of Professor Ananias’ journal from then. He was, indeed, ridiculed, for his findings. He left that college, and took up another trade, that of railroading – serving at first as a fireman, then an engineer on one of the narrow-gauge railroads that were servicing both the mining and the logging operations in the Rockies.

But he never gave up his quest, and after decades, in his senior years, came west to California again, after hearing rumors of a strange wooden creature somewhere near Barstow.

Face to face with the Old Prospector and the Catawampus

by Mark Eades July 11, 2018

I continued reading Professor Ananias’ journal. He entitled the next entry in his journal, “Meeting the old Prospector.”

Here is that entry: September 20, 1881 – I’ve been following the tracks of the old prospector’s mule and those beside it of holes spaced just like four-legged animals for a few days. They lead into a canyon. Cautiously, I urge my horse forward.

This Catawampus stands beneath the windmill in Ghost Town at Knott’s Berry Farm. Photo by Mark Eades.

As we moved further up into the canyon, I heard a lot of clicking noises, mixed with a variety of what sounded like cows mooing.

My horse tripped on a rock, making a neigh sound as it recovered. I stopped, and the noises I heard had stopped too.

We slowly set out again making little noise. Shortly, the clattering sound like wood sticks being clapped together started up again, along with the cows mooing, but it sounded like they were moving away from us, faster than we would ever catch up.

Rounding a bend, we saw a small campfire with coffee brewing next to it. On the ground could be seen many of the holes that looked like they were made by some strange animals. Then I spotted an old man, standing outside his tent at the ready with his shotgun.

“Ya scared them off,” the old, bearded man said.

“What was that?”

“Ya scared them away,” he said.

“What did we scare away?” I asked.

“The Catawampus.”

“The Catawampus?”

“Yep,” he said as he spit something out. “The Catawampus, they’re a little shy about bein’ seen.”

I nodded.

The old man beckoned me down off my horse.

“Ya want some coffee?”

“Why thank you,” I said.

The old man had probably not shaved in a couple years, and who knew when he had last bathed, as we were in a desert and water was hard to come by.

“I spect they went up the canyon to the spring, if it ain’t dried up yet,” he said as he poured me a cup of coffee. I tried a sip, it wasn’t bad – it had a hint of berry in the flavor that reminded me of the blackberries back home, causing me to smile.

“Like that coffee?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, there’s a hint of some kind of berry, like blackberry.”

“It tain’t black berry. I found a few of these big purple berries, ne’er seen ‘em before. But them critters seem to like the leaves of the bushes they grow on. There’s a few up at the spring. But if the water’s dry, they’ll probably die off,” he said.

The boysenberry vines at Knott’s Berry Farm. The Catawampus reportedly likes the leaves of the Boysenberry Vine. Photo by Mark Eades.

Then he offered his hand, “My name’s Dusty Mule, some call me crazy, and I know some refer to me as the ‘Old Prospector,’ but Dusty’ll do.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Dusty,” I said as I shook his purple-stained hand. “I’m Professor Aranias.”

“You’re kinda young to be a professor.”

“I graduated from college at the age of 16 and got my masters at 17.

“Why’d ya come out here?

“This is research for my doctoral thesis for a small college back east. I study and research new animals not really documented by scientists.”

“Well ya come to the right place. These little fellows took a liking to me, probably cause I like them purple berries and don’t touch the leaves.”

“May I ask why you call them Catawampus?”

“I dunno. Maybe cuz they’re a little Catawampus from any regular animal I’ve ever seen.”

“I’d like to see them and study them.”

Well, I think they’ll be back, they’re a little shy about bein’ seen by strangers. But I don’t think they’re gonna stick around this area much longer.”

“Why is that?”

“Cuz that purple berry plant don’t look like it’s gonna last much longer – so I spect they’ll start out across the desert to find more of them or something else they want to eat.”

“What do they look like?”

“Well, you probly won’t believe me, but they look like a bunch of bare sticks put together, with a small barrel for a heard, two horns that face down, and some hair that looks like dried grass.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you.”

“Well that’s the truth. You want more?”

I rolled my eyes and then nodded, “Sure, why not.” I made like I was writing all this down when, in fact, I was not.

“Well they have a mighty strange appetite. Besides the leaves of these plants with the purple berries, they eat coyotes.”

I didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but I had seen a few remains of eaten coyotes on my trek out to his campsite.

As it was getting dark, the Old Prospector served me up a homemade cobbler with some of that purple fruit. I will say, for a grizzled old man, he sure knew how to make a good cobbler.

As we stared at the fire, we heard a coyote yell, that was cut off suddenly.

“They got another one. Useful to keep the coyotes away,” Dusty said.

I just nodded. He went on.

“There used to be as many Catawampus as there were buffalo in the old west, but with more and more humans, their numbers have gone down as humans have scared them away. Farmers keep them away from their crops cause they think they eat their crops, but that’s the crows and other critters.”

“Do you think they’ll come back by your camp tomorrow?”

“I think they’ll come by tonight, now hold real still and turn around slow. There’s a few of them right behind you.”

I slowly turned and what I saw was, well, strange and weird, and exactly as described. I tried to count how many, but could see how many there were in the campfire lit darkness.

“That’s all the closer they’ll get, they’re kinda wary of fire.”

After seeing them in person, I agreed with the Old Prospector. They looked like they were made of sticks and just as he’d described. To say I was surprised is an understatement. All I could do was stare and wish I’d had one of those still cameras. I slowly got out my drawing pad.

Editor’s note: This is part two of a multi-part series. Here is a link to Part 1. Here is a link to Part 3. Return to this site in a week for the next installment in the series.

July 11, 2018 0 comment

Knott's Berry Farm theme parks

What of the Catawampus?

by Mark Eades July 4, 2018

At Knott’s Berry Farm in Ghost Town, near the stables and beneath the windmill stands an odd creature known as the Catawampus, or “Species Extinct.” This is Part 1 of a multi-part story.

Now in the past it was thought that the adult Catawampus seen there was a male and was the last one – but now experts are beginning to wonder maybe it’s not that extinct, as now there is a young Catawampus right next to the adult at Knotts. Leading them to believe that maybe the Catawampus at the Farm was not male, but female. There’s no real way to tell even up close.

Or is it that the males take care of the young like some species?

And a second question: Since there is a young one does that mean there are more out there somewhere and they are starting to regrow their numbers like the buffalo?

I set out to find out more, and in my intense search for more information I found the lost journals of Professor Ananias who was, until his disappearance years ago into an abandoned mine in the town of Calico, the expert on the creature that looks like it is made of bare tree branches, known as a Catawampus, or “Species Extinct.”

Here is the first entry from Professor Ananias’ journal: “May 1, 1881 – I arrived at Calico, a new town that sprang up almost overnight due to a discovery of a massive vein of silver. But my interest was not in silver, gold or other such intrinsic things. Rather, I was more interested in the older prospectors’ stories of strange wooden creatures seen in the desert areas. I hope to find one or two of them willing to talk to me. I suspect I will be purchasing them a beverage at the local saloon to loosen their tongues. Secondhand reports indicate that upon sightings of the creatures they were apparently startled into silence. It makes me wonder what it was they saw that could have frightened them so.”

A Catawampus and its offspring live in Ghost Town at Knott’s Berry Farm

Apparently, the Professor did not find anyone who would talk for some time as his next few entries were simple ones: “June 30, 1881 – Still searching for anyone who will talk to me about this strange creature, though I did find out they were calling it a ‘Catawampus.’ I’m not sure if that is its real name, or just one they have called it. It appears to be a name based on something gone askew. Or maybe they spotted it after walking across an area in a strange manner, or maybe the creature travels in a strange manner.”

Then a few months later, the Professor stumbled across someone who would talk: “September 14, 1881 – I decided to roam around the hills in search of an old prospector named Dusty Mule, after Goldie told me she had heard him talk of the creature during one of his visits to her establishment. No one seemed to know where he was located. But I persevered.

I happened to see a lone strand of mule tracks going into the hills one evening and started to follow them, but it was getting dark and there was no moon. So, I stopped and made camp near a small clump of cacti. As the darkness took hold, I heard the sounds of the night in this forsaken wilderness – that of the coyote mixed in with the sounds of cows mooing in the dark. I thought that the cows were giving away their position in the dark to the coyote. Then I heard one moo a little louder followed by the yelp of a coyote that sounded like it was caught in a trap – then a ghostly silence. No coyote or cows heard the rest of the night. I fell into an uneasy slumber.

Sometime later that night I thought I heard what sounded like the clatter of wooden sticks being clapped together outside my tent where I had bedded down for the night. My horse did not seem to mind it at all. I was tired from not getting any sleep and ignored it. Pretty soon the wooden clapping sound moved away and I went back to sleep.”

A strange sound indeed per the Professor’s journal. What could make a sound like a cow, when there were no cows for miles around? I read on:

“The next morning, I arose and quietly poked my head outside the tent. My horse was still there, but when I looked down at the ground, I saw what appeared to be small holes in the ground. They appeared to be round, of various diameters ranging from less than one inch to nearly three inches. It seemed to me someone was playing tricks on me as the holes were spaced just like that of four-legged animals. They also paralleled the tracks of the old prospector’s mule into the hills. I resolved to follow them and packed up my tent, saddled my horse and set off.”

Editor’s note: This is part one of a multi-part series. For Part 2 click here. For Part 3, click here.

July 4, 2018 0 comment

children Daddy Zone Disney Disneyland fatherhood kids parenting parents

Adventures in the Daddy Zone with the baby at Disneyland

by Mark Eades June 15, 2018

Editor’s note: This was originally written and to be published in the June 2018 edition of Parenting OC Magazine. But do to space limitations it was cut. So it is posted here by the author.

Well here I was, sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree in the Central Plaza at Disneyland. With me was our daughter, then about eight months old. Where was Mom? She was off in the long line for Pirates of the Caribbean with our four-year-old son.

He decided Mom deserved a trip to Disneyland for her birthday. Meanwhile I, the Dad, got to come too as it was Father’s Day, but it really meant I would watch baby sister while they went on a bunch of Disneyland attractions, especially those the baby could not ride.

My wife really knows how to get ready for trips to places like Disneyland. She was determined to not bring a stroller. So, we had a front pack for our daughter, and a backpack with all the baby stuff in it: Formula, bottles, baby food, disposable diapers, a change of clothes, extra blankets, two containers of baby wipes, and large, sealable, baggies to put, well, soiled things in.

The last would come in handy, as I would find out.

Thankfully, before they ran off to see the pirates, my wife took our daughter into the ladies’ bathroom and changed our daughter’s wet diaper. I figured that would hold her for a while. But my wife also assured me there were changing tables in the men’s bathrooms too.

I’m a little old-school. If my daughter did something while my wife was gone, I really didn’t want to have to change my daughter’s diaper in a men’s room. But I also did not want to do it out in the open on a Disneyland park bench either. My wife pointed across the plaza.

“There’s a Baby Care Center over there, I’m sure they can help you out,” she said as the two of them took off to get in the 90-minute line for Pirates of the Caribbean.

Now the nice thing about being a Dad with a baby, is that all the people like to stop by and make fun faces at the baby. And I will admit some of them were some nice-looking women. But I digress.

There we were, baby daughter and me sitting across from Sleeping Beauty Castle. She seemed to be very happy. When the horses pulling the street cars stopped nearby, we would walk over to them; she really liked them. Mary Poppins and Bert strolled by and said “Hello.” She really liked that.

We watched some ducks waddle by for a handout, I had a box of popcorn and “accidentally” spilled some on the ground for them. It went fine with my cup of soda, which did have a baby spillage prevention device on it, better known as a lid.

Things were going along fine for about an hour when she got fussy. Usually a sign that she wanted to either eat or drink something, so I carefully set my popcorn and drink down on the bench and got a ready to go bottle of formula of a side pocket of the backpack, and a baby blanket from another pocket. The bottle satisfied her for a while.

Then she spit the bottle out, obviously full. I set the bottle down next to the popcorn and soda, put the blanket on my shoulder, put her up there, gave her a few pats on the back and she burped. I was a pro at this. Then I laid her down on the blanket, with an arm in place to keep her from rolling off.

What a lovely day, she was kicking and smiling and goo-gooing. As I watched people taking pictures in front of the castle. I wasn’t really paying attention when she stopped making noise. I looked down at her and saw she was making a face of great concentration.

Oh oh. Did I just hear some music of impending doom? No, it was a different kind of noise – equal to the level of concentration on her face. It was a doom of a different kind – she was going poo-poo. Now normally, at home, this would not be that big a deal. But she was doing it right here on a park bench in the middle of Disneyland.

Worse yet, it was massive as it started to ooze out the sides of the diaper like the Blob and onto the blanket. And the smell? It was worse than anything the horses could do. I panicked and quickly grabbed the bottle of formula and stuffed it into the backpack – knocking over the popcorn in the process, to the great joy of the ducks in the area.

I needed to get to the Baby Care Center – and fast, as the daytime parade was approaching and I needed to get across Main Street U.S.A. before it arrived at the crossing. I wrapped her into the blanket, hiding the evidence of her dastardly deed, and quickly headed across the plaza, leaving my soda behind. Oh well, Disneyland’s Custodial staff, I was sure, would make quick work of that.

I did get stuck at the crossing while the first few floats passed, I had visions of her poo-poo oozing out like the Blob and devouring all nearby. Finally, they let us cross. I strived not to bump into anyone while carrying a baby with a diaper full of bad news. Suffice it to say, I made it to the Baby Care Center.

The Disneyland Baby Care Center is located just off the Central Plaza (also known as “The Hub”) at Disneyland. Inside the entry lobby there is a photo of Walt Disney when he was a baby on the wall. Photo by Mark Eades.

When I entered, it was like I’d gone to heaven for anyone needing to deal with feeding, nursing or having to change extremely dirty poo-pooed diapers like me. I thought I even heard angels singing.

The two Cast Members inside took one look at me and seemed to immediately understand what was going on. They directed me to one of the changing stations, which also had a nice paper liner on it to keep it clean from messes like my daughter’s.

One even asked if I needed any other assistance. I said no, but that they might want to hold their noses.

“We’re used to that, but this facility has excellent air circulation to take care of any unwanted odors,” the Cast Member said as she smiled.

I laid my daughter down, she seemed to relish squirming around in her mess. This was going to be a multiple baby wipe extravaganza to clean this mess up. I set the backpack emptied it, then proceeded to undo the diaper and was immediately assaulted by a pile of goo that would have been better handled by a large bulldozer.

I opened up two of the large zip top baggies; one for the diaper and wet baby wipes, the other for everything else. It took about 15 minutes to clean up the mess, with my daughter constantly moving the whole time. Finally, I was done. The dirty diaper and wet wipes filled one baggie, the dirty clothes and now dirty blanket filled the other. I sealed them both up and looked around for a waste basket for the one. The ladies pointed.

“Looks like you’ve done this before,” one of them said as they changed the paper liner.

“You might need to feed her soon,” the other Cast Member said.

I nodded and got out a jar of food, then realized there was no spoon in the backpack. One of them offered me a disposable plastic spoon, and suggested I take a few more with me.

Thank goodness for the Cast Members at the Baby Care Center. After feeding my daughter, I packed everything, not as neatly as my wife had done, and went outside. The parade had passed, and I could see my wife and son strolling this way, thank goodness, as I suddenly realized I needed to use the restroom.

The Disneyland Baby Care Center is located just off the Central Plaza (also known as “The Hub”) at Disneyland. Inside, parents or guardians can find a variety of things to support those with babies. In addition, the center serves as the location for lost children or lost parents. Photo by Mark Eades.

–Some additional tips from Linda Marquez, a Disneyland Park Specialist of the Disney Parks Moms Panel: “Traveling with infants is making sure they are comfortable while at the parks. Bring along kid-approved sunscreen, a hat to provide shade from the sun, and a small, portable fan to keep cool. You will definitely want to bring your stroller from home or rent one at the parks. A stroller is not only the safest and most efficient way to get your little one around the parks, but it’s also an excellent place to store your belongings and a comfy spot for your little one to take a snooze. If you use a baby carrier or wrap, you can wear your baby on the majority of attractions that do not have height requirements.”

Personally, my wife and I always found it easier to go without a stroller. It was easier to move throughout the parks, and we’re good with backpacks. The Baby Care Center in each of the Disneyland Resort’s two parks have a microwave, handy for warming formula. In addition, it is the place that any lost children or lost parents can be found as well.

June 15, 2018 0 comment

Disneyland

Walt Distant’s Enchanted Beefy Room

by Mark Eades March 27, 2018

(Editor’s note: This is written as a satire, so Disney can’t sue me!)

As we enter the corral of “West Distant’s Enchanted Beefy Room,” we are surrounded by the ghosts of the Old West as they appear in their Cactus form.

While waiting here, we’re invited to purchase one of Old Dole’s whips, made from real cowhide leather. Not much to drink here except for water from the trough, filled with a bucket from a nearby well. A bit uncomfortable too, as we have to get down on our knees and lap it up just like a horse or a cow.

The building appears to be an old barn. The corral is all dirt, just like found at any ranch. Mixed in with the dirt are bits of hay, horse apples and cow manure, leaving us with the delicate aroma normally found here.

A voice can be heard from one of the cactus plants that looks like an Old West cowboy.

“My name is Shadow, cowboys call me the shorty one. I am scorched from the sun and haven’t a clue what time it is. I’m so short I don’t have a shadow at all, so cowboys can’t get a clue as to what the time of day is.”

A voice pops up from another cactus shaped liked a donkey.

“Howdy partner, I am an ass. I don’t dance, I don’t move, but I’m part Agave, so if you drink my nectar after it is made into Tequila, I might give you a head ache! Just like the one I got from closing down the bar last night.”

A large withered-old cactus speaks up.

“Me Mongo. No one good to me. Me once star in movie. My thorns so dull, animals use me for a clawing post. Now just old and no longer cactus in game of desert.”

A large Saguaro suddenly speaks.

“I am Hot Mama. I’m the babe of this here garden. I like to tease my husband, Tiny Papa.”

A small cactus next to the large Saguaro starts shaking.

“Yes, she does, but I like it, even when she’s sticking it to me.”

The hay bale hanging from the loft starts to sway, as the old windmill starts to turn – even though there is no wind at all. The windmill speaks.

“I am windmill, without me there would be no water in this dry forsaken place.”

The Hay Bale speaks.

“Without water, there would be no hay, then no ranch, no corral. That wouldn’t bother me at all, I’m tired of hangin’ around up here. I think I’ll fall down on all the folks standing around in the corral.”

A cowboy comes out from inside the barn, firing his six-gun into the air.

“Okay, that’s the last straw Hay Bale, there’s been enough complainin’ out here in the corral. Time for me to round up these folks and git them on into the barn for the show.”

No automatic doors here, the cowboy has to swing open the barn doors, which creak due to the lack of grease in these here parts.

“Cowboys and cowgirls! Come on in for a rootin’ tootin’ show of fun western and prairie songs in West Distant’s Enchanted Beefy Room!”

As people enter the barn, they’re directed to sit on a variety of saddles, hitching posts or the floor. Most would rather stand then sit on the dirt floor where there is a mixture of, well you know…

Above everyone, in the darkened rafters of the barn, can be seen some distinct shadows of what appear to be cows.

The room lights dim, one light is shined onto the floor, the cowboy cracks a whip as he steps into the pool of light.

“Yee haw, cowboys and cowgirls. Are y’all ready for a really moovin’ show?”

He looks around the room, expecting a response. Getting none, he cracks the whip again.

“I said YEE HAW! Y’all ready for a rootin’ tootin’ udderly moovin’ show?”

Everyone yells “Yee haw,” aided by the sound system recording of a western crowd saying, “Yee haw!”

“Well let’s get this rodeo started. I don’t want to start a stampede for the door, so let me quietly wake up Josie.”

The cowboy cracks his whip up in the air on one side of the room. Snoring, that almost sounds like mooing, is heard.

The cowboy gets out his six-gun, fires it and cracks the whip again.

“Get along there Josie, it’s show time!”

A light is shined on a bull sitting in a saddle swing above the audience. He slowly opens her eyes, stretching her hooves and looks around.

“You’re not Josie. Where’d she go Ralph?” asks the cowboy.

In a distinct Brooklyn voice, he responds, “She’s out on the range. What are you bothering me for, Pardner? Can’t you see I’m sleepin’?”

The cowboy responds, “These here city folks came for a show. Looks like you’re gonna have to do it.”

“Hey, I’m sleeping here,” Ralph says in his New York accent. “I’m going back to sleep.” He starts to close eyes. The cowboy draws his gun and aims it at Ralph.

“Don’t make me come up there and send you out with the herd, get a move on ya little dogie,” says the cowboy.

“Who you calling dogie, you’re not even a real cowboy!” says Ralph.

“And you’re not a real bull, you’re a robot” says the cowboy.

Ralph snorts.

“Now get moovin with the show,” says the cowboy.

“All right, all right,” says Ralph as he looks around at the audience.

“Look at all the people staring at me, they must know a handsome bull when they see one.”

“Ralph, the show?” says the cowboy.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Howdy pardners, welcome to West Distant’s Enchanted Beefy Barn. Who the heck came up with that name?”

“Ralph.”

“Well it’s corny. Okay, let’s rustle up the others. Hey Sigfried, wake your tired leather encased body up, we gotta put on a show!”

Sigfried yawns and stretches. “Whoa, good thing I woke up. Look out below folks.”

There is the sound of a fart. The cowboy cracks his whip.

“False alarm,” says Sigfried. “Okay, okay, I’m moovin. Hey Dingus, stop chewin’ that cud and let’s get goin.”

Dingus chomps on his cud, then stops as the light shines on him. “Hold on a second.” He swallows his cud. “I wish I’d already swallowed that cud. Hey! There’s supposed to be four of us, where the heck is Jubal?”

The sound of a barn door opening and closing can be heard, along with a loud “Moo!” and what sounds like bull hoofs walking into one of the stalls.

A young male voice responds. “He’s sleeping off yesterday’s stampede, so I’m covering for him.”

Ralph snorts and says, “Who are you?”

The young bull says, “I’m Yippee, the intern.”

All the other bulls snort in derision.

Ralph says, “This is a lot of bull.”

Sigfried says, “Be careful folks, we’re stepping in it now.”

Dingus says, “Come on guys, give him a chance. There’s people watchin.’”

Sigfried says, “Isn’t he your nephew?”

Dingus says, “My son, one of 30.”

Ralph says, “Now who’s bragging?”

The cowboy stomps in, “Hey, let’s get a moovin with the show!”

Ralph says, “All right, all right. Let’s round up the rest of the herd. MOOO!”

Lights come on around the barn, highlighting a variety of western critters. In several stalls are a variety of horses. Some sheep are in another pen, and a billy goat stands atop a barrel. There are a couple of raccoons, startled, as they were caught dipping their hands into a barrel of feed. Some owls hoot up in the rafters, and in large vases attached to posts out pop the heads of some rattling rattlers.

Ralph yells out, “Yee haw, hit it!”

Everyone starts singing.

“In the beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy room, in the beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy room.”

Ralph sings, “All the bulls will yodel,”

Sigfried sings, “And the horses will neigh!”

Everyone, “In the beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy room.”

Ralph sings, “Welcome into our smelly old barn, you stupid city folk you. If we weren’t inside our smelly barn, we’d be out in the fields with them female cows.”

Dingus says, “Hey there’s a kid here.”

Zippy says, “I know what he’s talkin’ bout.”

Sigfried starts the chorus again.

“In the beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy room, in the beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy room.”

Ralph sings, “All the bulls will yodel,”

Sigfried sings, “And the horses will neigh!”

Everyone, “In the beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy room.”

Suddenly a triangle rings, interrupting the singing by the bulls. A large parrot appears in the hay loft.

The parrot says, “What the hell is going on in here? I thought I was flying north to be in a Tiki room review, somehow I ended up in this roundup – in a barn full of bull.”

Ralph says, “That’s bulls and we don’t take no manure.”

Everyone sings, “In the beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy, beefy barn.”

The music ends with a flourish.

“Now I’ve heard it all,” says the parrot. “Watch out for the Tiki gods,” he says as he flies back out.

“Tiki gods?” asks Zippy.

“Wrong show,” says Dingus.

“Time to bring in the girls!” says Ralph.

All the bulls moo together.

“Let’s herd them in here,” says Sigfried.

“We can’t,” says Ralph. “They have to come in from above.”

The ceiling opens up.

“I sure hope that’s a big crane,” says Dingus.

“Oh yes,” says Zippy. “I calculated the weight of the cows, added in a 20 percent factor for udder stuff. We should be safe.”

A large chandelier structure with several female sheep on it lowers into the center of the barn.

“What happened to the cows?” asks Ralph.

“They were too heavy, so I asked the Ewes to sub in,”

“Sheep,” says Dingus with disgust.

“Yeah, well baa to you too,” says one of the sheep.

“We don’t mean to bleat in on your show, but we wanted to pull the wool over your eyes,” says another sheep.

“Where’s a sheep dog when you need one?” asks Sigfried.

There’s a bark from a dog house in the corner, followed by a snore…

“I guess we’re stuck with them, hit it girls,” says Ralph.

The sheep start singing.

“Let’s all yodel like cowboys do. Baa, baa, baa, baa, baa, baa.”

“Hold it,” says Dingus. “That’s not yodeling, did you lose your way?”

“Baa, baa, baa,” sing the ewes.

“That sounds like a boy band,” says Sigfried.

The girls continue…

“Let’s all yodel like cowboys do.”

The sheep dog sticks its head out of the doghouse. “Howl, howl, howl, howl, howl, howl!”

The Parrot flies back in.

“What the hell is all that racket?”

Zippy pipes up, “Well we had to put sheep on the thing in the middle as the cows were udderly too heavy, and they’re not singing the yodeling the right way. Then the sheep dog tried to help…”

“Yee gads, what a mess,” says the parrot.

“Are you talking about the song, or the floor of the barn?” asks Ralph.

“Both,” says the parrot.

“We can yodel if that’s what you want,” says one of the sheep.

“Yeah, we want to get paid too.”

“Paid?” asks Ralph.

“Yeah, I had to promise them we’d pay them to perform,” says Zippy.

Everyone stares at each other in awkward silence.

Sigfried pipes up, “I suppose we can give them some feed.”

“What are you trying to do, fleece us?” says one of the sheep.

Ralph sighs. “No. But since you’re here, go ahead and sing it the way you want.”

The sheep continue.

“Let’s all yodel like cowboys do. Baa, yodel, baa, yodel, baa yodel. Take your cue from the sheep, now you all do what you want. Baa, yodel, baa, yodel, baa, yodel.”

Suddenly some Tiki Gods up in a corner light up in anger and pound some drums.

“Hey, how’d we get some Tiki Gods in here,” asks Sigfried.

“I think they’re leftover from that Disney show,” says Ralph.

“Oh.”

The Tiki Gods start to chant. There is a clap of thunder, then the wind starts howling. A tumbleweed is seen tumbling across the prairie through the window.

All sing, “See them tumbling down….”

At that point it starts to rain outside, but the barn leaks and water comes down inside.

They change songs. “We’re singing in the rain. Just singing in the rain.”

The parrot flies in again.

“Flash flood coming!”

Water comes crashing through the door, carrying all the humans out with it.

“I guess that’s the show,” says Ralph.

“Yep,” says Sigfried.

“I wonder where the people went?” asks Dingus.

“Let’s get out of here and find us a few of them cows!” says Ralph. All the lights go dark.

THE END

March 27, 2018 0 comment

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