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Spotlight: A Response To Allan Keyes

4 Aug

August 4, 2012

“No Mr. Keyes, You Are Not Funny”

Dear Sirs-

It has come to my attention that you have been getting quite the mileage out of an unfortunate photo that was taken of me and posted on the internet without my knowledge or consent.

You see Mr. Keyes, I am indeed the gentleman that you and your cohort “Mr. Blog” (such a pathetic nom de plume) have repeatedly and cruelly labeled as “fat guy eating cheeseburger.”  For the record – not that you and your publisher care – my real name is Norman Snackmunch, and I do not appreciate having that out of-context photo being constantly used to deride and degrade me.

Sir, in my day I have played to great praise in many of Shakespeare’s plays.  Enclosed is a photo of me in my acclaimed role of Falstaff, a role that I played on the stage of the Old Vic itself!  Would that you print that instead of the humiliating picture snapped of me in my weakest moment!  I have several doctorates, am an ordained minister, and have been the recipient of the Elks Lodge Humanitarian of the Year award multiple times. But to you and your few uninformed readers, I am merely an overweight gentleman stuffing myself that is appropriate to be made sport of. How dare you!

I wish to educate you Mr. Keyes, as to just how that picture came to be.  I was naturally disheveled at the time, as I had just spent the previous three and a half days in a creative frenzy finishing my 15th sonata (seven of my previous 14 had been performed on stage, accompanied by no less a personage than Pavarotti himself!) As is my custom, when I create, I am so single-minded that I forego eating and sleeping.  So naturally, when I finished the final glissando, I realized how ravenously hungry I was. My problem was compounded because my wife Beatrix, deeply involved in a project of her own (she edits the New England Journal of Medicine) had neglected the shopping.

I ventured from my townhouse to find sustenance, but at that hour of the night, the only establishment open was the local Fuddruckers. And unfortunately, a hamburger eating contest was about to start. I was walking to the counter, fully intending to make my order and leave, when the emcee of the event noticed my advanced poundage, and cruelly goaded me into participating.

Mr. Keyes, it was not my intent to compete. But the emcee called me out in some of the vilest manners! One particular barb that rankled was his assessment of me as being “all hat, no cattle” when I repeatedly refused to join in– well dammit, I have my pride sir!  I entered, resolved to teach that blaggard a lesson, when at that fateful and unfortunate moment, some person unknown to me snapped that now infamous photo of me and posted it on Google.  Needless to say, the fact that I triumphed in the contest has turned into quite the pyric victory for me, even despite the stylish championship belt that was my prize.

The aftermath has been both personally and professionally awful for me. When Beatrix travels to conferences, jokers plaster her room with pictures of me. In one of them someone photoshopped  a porkpie hat onto my head! As if I would ever wear such a silly article of clothing! Had I ever donned one, even in jest, my haberdasher Mr. Detwiler would discontinue accepting my trade. Mr. Keyes sir, you may meddle with me if you so choose, but mark my words sir, you dare not interfere with my continued access to Mr. Detweiler’s homburgs!

Everywhere I go, the public taunts me, thanks to you. Even on campus, on my way to lecture my advanced calculus students, people yell things at me such as “Hey fat guy, way to go!” and “Hey fat guy, how did that burger taste?”  And most often of all “Hey, fat guy! That Allen Keyes sure is funny!”

No Mr. Keyes, you are not funny.  You are most definitely unfunny (Beatrix concurs, though for some unfathomable reason she did enjoy something called “Hollywood Russell” that she saw on this web site).  It is my fervent hope that now I have enlightened you as to your error, that you and your supervisor “Mr. Blog” refrain from using that photograph in the future.

Thank you for your time.

Signed,

 Norman Snackmunch, Ph.D. 

PS- I find the grammar and spelling content of your weblog – your entries in particular – to be appalling. The only thing worse than your grammar is the quality of your Photoshop work.

 

****

 

By way of apology, Mr. BTR presents:  Fat Guy Eating Hamburger Wearing Homburger:

 

In case you were wondering, this has been

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Spotlight: Jimbo (The OTR Guy)

1 Aug

August 1, 2012

Spotlight Week rolls on with Jimbo. Jimbo is one of the true Good Guys on the internet. One of his many interests is OTR, Old Time Radio, a topic I know a bit about myself as well. But if I know a bit, Jimbo knows tons. One of his favorite shows is Vic and Sade, a very funny show I have slowly become a fan of thanks to Jimbo and his great site http://vicandsade.blogspot.com/ (just one of his many sites- this guy does a lot, including keeping a great twitter feed running) where you can learn all about this funny show, and also Uncle Fletcher, Jimbo’s favorite character. You can click on the link in the sidebar to go to http://otrbuffet.blogspot.com/, a site that has something about everything in OTR, including a couple of interviews with me, Your Obedient Servant. I also must add that some recent content on this blog has been inspired by his very funny ideas.

Today, Jimbo moves away from what I’ve come to expect from him and tells us of a very personal experience. Although it is rarely mentioned in this blog, Jimbo and I share an interest in the following topic, though his story beats any of mine.

Object: Unidentified and Flying

Thanks to BMJ2K, who has opened his website to me to do whatever I wanted to do.  I had thoughts of writing something really, imaginatively funny and I thought about writing something tear-jerkingly sad as well.

However, what I have chosen to do is tell you a true story, something that once happened to me.  I don’t ask you to believe me; you can do as you wish.

It was a cool morning and a humid one in 1997 or 1998. It is always humid here.  I live less than 5 miles from the Atlantic Ocean and am in the deepest, darkest part of Georgia, right in the middle of God-only-knows how many swamps.  Sure, I’ve seen plenty of gators and wild boar.  Deer and tree frogs are common too.  That’s life in the middle of nowhere.

Actually, it isn’t fair to say“nowhere” because there is a Naval base in the town where I live.  This means that the town is made up of all manner of Americans with about a million dialects.

So one morning, about 14 years ago, I headed off to work.  I had to be there at 5:30 am; something I’ve always been used to doing has been to rise and shine at an early hour.

I don’t remember much about that morning until it happened.  Out of my left upper periphery I noticed a very bright light.  The light was so bright and so close that I slowed down to a near crawl, as there was no one on the street but me.  There were power lines on both sides of the street and I was near my work site and I began – not be scared – but to becomes enchanted by what I saw.

I could see now there were about 6 visible lights.  They were round and white and reminded me of basketballs, although they were probably much larger.  What happened next bewildered me and left me speechless – even though there was no one to talk to at the time.

I could see now that this object was a flying vehicle of some sort and though I could not to this day tell you exactly what it was, except it was flying and had many bright lights.  It came down low, came right at my truck, probably at a speed of 30 miles an hour or so and brushed right over my vehicle.  The light blinded me and awed me all at once and I did not have the hindsight to look back to watch where it went.  As a matter of fact, I kept driving and I didn’t speed up or slow down that I remember.  I often wonder now what it was that kept me from looking back.

When I got to work, I parked and sat there a good 5-10 minutes reflecting on what had happened.  Did I just have a real experience?  Am I fully awake?  Did I just see a vehicle come out of the sky and come right over me?  The answer to all of those questions was yes.

I was in my right, fully capable mind that morning.  I was not on any narcotic nor was I an indulger of alcohol.  What happened to me was real.

I thought to myself – and still wonder to this day – if this was some kind of government (maybe a Navy) vehicle.  It could have been, I never have said it was an alien vehicle or a “flying saucer.”  However, the thing defied the laws of psychics.  It maneuvered flawlessly, silently over and around power lines.

I was excited.  I couldn’t wait to tell people what I saw.  But of course you know what happened when I told them.  Coming from me, one of the biggest leg-pullers in North America, no one believed me.  To this day the only people I feel really believe the story are my brother and sister.

I have been foolish enough to tell the story enough times to be fully disbelieved about a thousand times.  And now, a thousand and one.

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