October 1997 the biswick files by Sherman T. Biswick |
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Mr. Biswick:
Is Mel Gibson's career merely in a slump or is he down for the count?
Harrison Ford is getting all of the really good aging hunk roles that once
would have gone to Mel. And I fear that the much-hyped Ransom's dismal
box-office showing may be the kiss of death for old Mad Max.
Ben
Dear Ben,
The only people who stay young are vampires and hobgoblins and so forth.
But that causes other problems. Get old, I say. But be graceful about it.
I didn't see the Ransom but I liked the Braveheart. My people are Irish.
So, I can identify with Mel Gibson. I can't identify with Harrison Ford
because the only president who flew an airplane was George Bush, and look
where it got him! Air Force One? Phooey.
It is not easy being an aging hunk. I once was able to dance the two step
for four hours straight, and I sent many a fiddler to an early grave back in
Greenup County when I was young. Now, I can't for one reason: I am old.
Minnows wiggle away when you try and catch them in your hand and put a
fishhook through their eyes and catch a Largemouth Bass with them. Youth is
the same way except, of course, for the Bass fishing part. Those who are
young get old. But those who are old don't ever get young. This is the
cruel joke of youth, Ben, but you'll not hear any old people laughing
because nothing is funny when you're old.
Sincerely,
Dear Mr. Biswick:
How should I deal with a rowdy RV neighbour?
Signed,
Dear Joseph,
I had this problem many times when I lived in the Recreational Vespers
Campground. I moved there in May of 1976 after my retirement from the
plant. There was a big bunch of hoopla about the bicentennial of our great
country. Three weeks before the July 4th this band of long hairs pulled
their Volkswagon bus in next to mine. I was in the Big One, WW II, and
fought Hitler, but I'll give one thing to the Krauts: they sure know how to
build cars. So, these hippies were really a band with their noise and their
musical instruments and their dungarees and so forth. They used to come in
at all hours of the night with their long hair and their beer drinking.
They were nogoodniks for certain. They played their guitars all the while
yelling things like "Whipping Post" and "Free Bird." To this day, I have no
idea what they were talking about except that I suspect they were referring
to illegal narcotics.
For many years, I had a hard time sleeping. I had this heart condition that
wasn't getting any better and Dr. Lauder told me, "Mr. Biswick, you've got
to get rid of the stress, loud noises, and potassium in your life or it'll
kill you dead as four o'clock." Whenever I'd wake up in the middle of the
night, my heart would be racing to beat the band. And in June of 1976 the
band I was trying to beat was practicing next door at 3am.
So, Joseph, heed my words when I tell you that the solution to your rowdy
neighbors is bees.
Sincerely, in the junk drawer:
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