I took a little trip yesterday, along with my wife, to Gloucester Courthouse. It’s a very Mayberry-ish type town. And, when I picked up a copy of a local newspaper, I actually thought I’d been transported back to the fifties. Although, I’m not sure that even in the fifties, you’d have found the stories I found in the current issue of “Glo-Quips.”
I’m not totally sure this isn’t a clever National Lampoon parody of small-town local papers, but, it appears the publishers view this as serious journalism.
If you know me, you know I generally don’t believe in making fun of others, but, folks, this is like shooting fish in a barrel. Here is a sampling of some of the riveting stories found in the current Glo-Quips (and I’ll be quoting verbatim).
Even though the headline is intriguing, I’m still trying to figure out what is exactly being said. If you’re from Gloucester, or have watched the movie Deliverance on several occasions, perhaps you can translate.
OLD CORDUROY ROAD PASSES INTO HISTORY
Mr. Sam Gwyn and his faithful and efficient assistants, Mr. Henry Berry and others, in 1930 made a splendid piece of work of the road under the care of Mr. Gwyn. The thanks of the neighborhood and of all who travel over the road are due to him and them for to say in which they are accomplished their difficult task for as Mr. Gwyn says, “The Land’s End Corduroy is a thing of the past.”
Here’s an editorial regarding the death of a former employee. Because I’m a compassionate guy, I’ll change the name of the employee. Here goes:
It is with great sadness that we learned about the passing of our former employee, Steve Cook, on August 29, 2006. She was a typist for Glo-Quips in the 80’s and 90’s and we enjoyed her friendship throughout the years. A kind and compassionate person, Steve was always seen helping others in her generous manner. Especially the elderly, as she was known as the “Foot Lady,” extending her services to the podiatric needs of those confined to their homes. (MAY I INTERRUPT HERE – EXACTLY WHAT DID THE FOOT LADY DO TO THE FEET OF THOSE CONFINED TO THEIR HOMES?)
Music, the water and daffodils were among her interests (WHAT A FASCINATING LADY), and we fondly remember her easy-going personality. She was a wonderful mother, and her children not only carried on their mother’s love of music (WHAT? THEY DON’T LIKE WATER AND DAFODILS?) but also excelled as upstanding citizens. She was proud of their accomplishments and always had news to tell of their success. Most notably, son Scott is currently serving as CEO of (NAME WITHELD), the largest women’s retail store in Ft. Myers, Florida. (MOM ALWAYS DID LIKE SCOTT BEST).
Here’s an important correction notice that appears on page 5 of the paper:
In the article on Mathews Market Days Honorary Mayor, Barbara Walters Williams; the article stated that her first husband, Bill (Williams Walters) was deceased – that is incorrect, he is very much alive. (NO ONE COULD BE HAPPIER TO HEAR THAT THAN BILL, I’M GUESSING)
The best part of Glo-Quips is on the back inside cover. It’s so good, I’m going to recommend that we add this feature to West End’s Best Magazine. It’s called “READERS CALL-IN!”
The publisher of the paper allows readers (I use the term loosely) to phone in anonymously and air their gripes. These are great. For instance, here are a few…
“My mother has needed her roof repaired for the past three of four years she has been trying to get the Gloucester Housing to get it fixed. She is 76 years old and put in several applications. The volunteers come out but never have been fixed What is wrong with Gloucester County? Everytime it rains it leaks. It doesn’t need to be replaced but just nailed down.”
I SWEAR I’M QUOTING THESE WORD FOR WORD. READ ON:
“Anyone having trouble with coyotes? Try purchasing a donkey! Even a min-donkey will do. (WHAT BURNS ME UP IS THAT I’VE BEEN WANTING TO USE THAT LINE IN A COLUMN FOR YEARS AND THIS PERSON FIGURES OUT HOW TO DO IT.) Coyotes are very afraid of them.”
ME THINKS THIS NEXT CALLER HAS SOME SERIOUS ISSUES…
“On July 28, 2005, I was taken to court for cursing abuse charges against my son’s ex-girlfriend’s mother. Those charges were dismissed. On July 29, 2005, she went down and took out stalking charges against my son which he pleaded not guilty and was found not guilty. On August 5, 2005, her mother attached me outside the store, so I took assault charges out on her. She was found guilty. Since then she has done nothing but harass my son and me. I would appreciate it if she would just leave my family alone. When you go back in front of the judge (SOUNDS LIKE A COUNTRY MUSIC LYRIC WAITING TO HAPPEN) on September 21, 2006, which is my son’s birthday, I wonder if you will realize the h--- (EXPLETIVE DELETED, EITHER BY GLO-QUIPS OR THE ANGRY LADY) he has been through with fighting cancer and your lies (PLEASE, IS THERE A COUNTRY MUSIC WRITER IN THE HOUSE ANYWHERE?). Sometimes you have to forgive and forget and put it in God’s hands. To your daughter (ON AN EVIDENTLY LIGHTER NOTE) – congratulations on her marriage. So quit calling and leave him alone. You are married NOW! As far as your friend in our old neighborhood, have her stop telling you everything that we are doing. I can call D.O.S.S. on her, too! What kind of justice is there in Gloucester County?”
I SAY FORGET THE O.C. I WANT TO SEE A NIGHTTIME SOAP CALLED G.C.
I THINK THIS NEXT ONE SHOULD CONVINCE YOU THAT GLOUCESTER COUNTY IS SEETHING WITH DRAMA AND INTRIGUE. HERE’S ONE MORE…
“I am so sorry to hear that a certain doctor is in a financial mess. He is such a good person. A few years ago he had the same thing happen to him with another lady.”
WOW! I’M HOOKED.
Well, all I can say after reading this is that I wish I had the imagination to make this sort of stuff up. I could be rich. One thing for sure, I’m getting me a subscription to Glo-Quips.
Friday, September 08, 2006
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3 comments:
To the goat-shaped entity in my backyard, that may or may not be a goat:
If you must eat my grass, do it evenly. There is nothing worse than an uneven lawn. And when you are 'done' with it, please deposit the 'processed grass' on the mulch pile. Not on the sidewalk. Not on the car. Not on the roof. How do you get up there anyway?
The goat-shaped entity in the backyard, TO the two-legged deformed goatman in the rotting two story rambeshackle you call a house:
I'll do whatever I want on the sidewalk, the car, or the roof. I'll eat the lawn any way I want. Oh, and as you lay in bed tonight, counting sheep, remember this: The moment you fall asleep, I'm coming down the chimney to kill you most utterly.
I forgot to mention that the Shadie-Deelinz Rest Home was taking a field trip to the ol' laptop today. Okay everyone, back on the bus. Basket weaving class starts right after dinner.
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