Page 2 December 4, 1989 The Clarion
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Flashing back with Uncle Elmo
‘Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la
and all that stuff. The sweaters have come
out. The fires have been lit. The stockings
are all hung on the ladies’ legs. Thoughts
of turkey, stuffing, berry and eggs.
Everyone glowing with holiday cheer, and
everyone drinking their holiday Pepsies.
Santa is working overtime and he
sometimes neglects to give Mrs. Claus the
love and care she needs. The nights are
long on the North Pole, ya’ know. That’s
o.k., I’m sure she has her toys too. Don’t
even think what you guys were thinking.
Mrs. Claus is not over the hill.
All of this Christmas talk has reminded
me of my last Christmas which was spent
at my Grandma Coon’s house. If it gets
kind of wavy when you read this it is
because I am remembering (you know like
in the movies). FLASH BACK, FLASH
BACK, BACK LASH, oo, ah, oo, ah.
Charles Koory
(Jarutn Qflumnist
Over the hills and through the woods to
Grandmother’s house we went. Hey, that
could be a song. We had spent all day
traveling by car with our pet to the
backwoods of Dalton, Ga. We traveled for
hours on this long and dusty dirt road. We
finally came to this really old looking
cabin. I though to myself, “There is no way
we’re going to spend our Christmas here.”
We ended up not spending the night there.
We stayed in an Econo Lodge, because
that was not my grandmother’s house. I
don’t know whose house that was. I’ll pro
bably never know whose house that was.
Anyway, we caught a plane in Hotlanta the
next day, and flew to where my grand
mother really lives. This house is in
Hanover, Pa. We got there about noon, and
as soon as we had time to use the
bathroom, we sang a few Christmas tunes.
The next day my Uncle Elmo Dog decid
ed to take me hunting for the Christmas
turkey dinner. It was my first time hunting
and Elmo was kind of showing me the
ropes. “Now this here’s a gun, boy, you
shoot it at things that move.”
“Does that mean I can shoot you?” I
replied.
“No son, shoot turkeys,” Elmo said as
he spit out his plug.
I’m not your son, I thought, but I decided
not to press my luck. So off we went. The
first sign of a turkey I looked over at Elmo
and he said, mouthing something to me,
“Shoot boy, shoot!” So I leveled the gun
and fired. 1 totally missed, but Elmo shot
soon after and hit something.
It turns out that Elmo had shot a
chicken. That’s right, a chicken. Oh boy, I
really rubbed it now,” Wow, Elmo you’re
really great! Didn’t you say you were an
expert marksman? It takes a whole lot of
brains to distinguish between a turkey and
a chicken! Gobble, Gobble, Emo. Who’s
the turkey now?
Darkness, I got hit.
When I woke up it was Christmas morn
ing and people were opening their
presents. I limped over to the tree and
opened my presents. I got a lot of neat
stuff: a razor, a doorknob, sea monkeys,
zit cream, toe jam, and a bottle of Captain
Morgan’s Spiced Pepsi. My favorite pre
sent was a little drum. Last Christmas I
was broke so I couldn’t afford presents for
anyone. Right then an idea came to mind. I
gathered everyone around and I said, “I
know you are all wondering what I got you
for Christmas. Well, what I have for you
cannot be bought, for it is a gift of love.” I
broke into song with my drum, “Come
they told me parump a pum pum, a
newborn King to see parump a pum
pum...” I kind of finished the song in an
empty room. It was probably too emo
tional for everyone.
The day rolled on and dinner finally
came around. We had chicken.
We left the next day with memories of
Elmo and chicken dinner fresh in our
head. I just hope this Christmas will be as
memorable as my last one. Have a good
one, guys. Gobble, Gobble, parump a pum
pum...
CLARIOR
Lora Woodrum
LibhyEnloe Editor Lin Redmond
Ashley Cimino Pt>etn Editor
AssiH'iate Editors
Ti«a Wiegerink
Scott Holmes Laura Clark
Sports Editor Photofiraphers
Sean Frazier
Jofk I^aiiterer
■irtist Faculty Advisor