Redneck Tale # 62 – It’s Flanagan’s fault

Back in the dark ages of my career as an established story teller (an accomplished liar), I lacked good material from which to build my tales, particularly to build any tales that might serve to really put me on the road to highly deserved fame.

Accordingly, I made the rounds of acquaintances who might be cajoled into spilling good stuff in my ears; that is, to lay some tales from their memories onto me so that I might perfect them and serve them up to other listeners and readers. Plagiarism of a sort is one way a writer can make progress and make a living. Further than that, it is easier to fix something than to attempt to invent it on your own.

This brings us to my old friend, Stan Flanagan, a sales guy of great wisdom, wit, and willingness to talk. One day, Stan laid a story on me that, back then, I should have regarded as a truly lousy story. I was still in a developmental stage at the time. I did not recognize the tale for what it was –a funny bummer. It had way too much history in the thing. Facts are not funny. History is facts, all in an orderly row. I probably should never have listened to Stan, but, being at the early stage of things, I tuned right on in.

Until now I have kept the shame of all of that to myself. As I near the ending days of my long and fun-filled life, it is time for me to lay this nonsense on you. That may be the only way I will be able to get rid of it. It is what I like to think of as "impressive nonsense." Here goes –

The tenth president of the United States was a guy named John Tyler. Several, things distinguish Brother John from the rest of the presidents. He was most virile, as attested to by a count of his progeny – eight sons and six daughters. It seems like, in his spare time, he presidented.

In addition to that, he was the first vice-president of the United States to become the president upon the death of a president. In fact, he caused quite a stink by having himself sworn in as president instead of calling for new elections as some folks thought he should. Another thing he did that proves him to be one of the smart ones – he presided over the annexation of the Republic of Texas, now the finest state in the union.

Tyler was a southerner and had been added to the Whig Party ticket in order to balance its selection of William Henry Harrison, the politician known far and wide by his nickname, "Old Tippecanoe." Both Tyler and Harrison kept their mouths shut during the presidential election campaign and, thus, they won the election rather handily. Their campaign strategy was simple enough – keep Harrison vague and Tyler mute.

Their use of the campaign slogan, "Tippecanoe and Tyler, too," likely won the contest for them.

Enough of this history stuff, right?

From there we go directly into Stan’s story.

A fellow had bigtime problems with his kitchen floor and perhaps even bigger problems with his bank account. He needed to have the kitchen floor re-tiled with fresh, non-chipped linoleum squares, but his funds were mighty low.

He checked around with some linoleum tile contractors about laying some tiles for him. Their price quotations did not synchronize with his budget.

"Tile layers sure do think they are special, don’t they?" thought the man.

He checked around some more, but all of the linoleum guys he talked with had the same attitude – "You pay, we lay."

After making the rounds of most of his friends, one of them suggested that he contact the local zookeeper. There was reported to be a remarkable animal in the zoo, one that was an expert in the refurbishing of linoleum tile floors, especially kitchen floors.

Said his friend, "This critter is not only good at sticking those tiles down, he is really cheap."

Actually, the man doubted that any critter other than a well-experienced linoleum man could do the job on his kitchen floor, but he finally decided to check with the zookeeper anyway. (Money rules over disbelief every time!)

To the zoo he went. "I understand that you have a critter over here that re-tiles linoleum tile floors. Is that right?"

"Yes. It is. He is called a gnu."

"How much does that there gnu charge a guy like me to re-do a kitchen floor?"

"Mister, his services are free. You have to supply him with the linoleum blocks, the glue, and enough edible straw feed to keep him working and happy over a weekend. You sign him out of here on Friday night and get him back here by 6 p.m. on Sunday."

"OK! That sounds like a good deal to me. See you Friday."

Late Friday afternoon, the guy drove his pickup truck on over to the zoo, loaded the big and friendly gnu into the truck bed, drove home, and then turned the gnu loose inside of his kitchen.

"Gnu, there are the linoleum tiles and the glue. Your straw is over there in the hallway, right outside the kitchen door. I’m going to hit the hot spots tonight but I’ll check with you in the morning to see how you are doing. OK?"

The man returned home Saturday. The kitchen floor sparkled. The new tiles were expertly placed. There were no streaks, no misplacings, and no squabs of glue to be seen. The gnu, a smile on his gentle face, hunkered down in one corner of the renewed kitchen. Beside him was a neat little pile of unused linoleum tiles, the unneeded extras.

The man was delighted as well as being completely amazed. Who would have believed that a gnu critter could accomplish so craftsman-like a job?

Back to the zoo went the gnu. The astounded man told the zookeeper that, had he not experienced the gnu's fine work with the kitchen floor re-tiling, he would never have believed it could possibly be done by so ungainly-looking a critter.

He told the zookeeper, "That gnu is something altogether else, sir. He must surely be of special breeding, for sure, and it no doubt took years and years of special training to make the gnu so capable."

"No sir," replied the very unexcited zookeeper. "He’s a typical gnu and tiler, too."