Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

Just a regular Joe

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   The other night I saw the movie, “The New World” Hollywood’s latest stereotyping of the Indian/Native-American. When I was a kid Indians were the guys who attacked the wagon train and surrounded the survivors. “When the drums stop they will attack.” Then at the last minute, the cavalry arrived.

   The next iteration was the warriors became valiant opponents and an aging John Wayne looked out for them. This take was followed by the ‘noble’ man of nature only using what he needed and having immense respect for his environment with love for everybody and everything. He was a kind of armed flower child in feathers.

   I’m not going to deny that throughout history the red man got a Class A Rogering by the white man. Some of the treaties that were forced down their throats had a shorter shelf life than bananas. However, nobody as yet tried to describe these guys as regular Joes.

   Let’s look at a bad day for your average, working Indian, named in the tradition of the Cleveland Indians, Fast Eddie.

   Eddie is out on the hunt, just trying to put some food on the blanket. While he is in the woods, it comes down pouring rain. You know what happens when leather gets wet so Eddies’ loincloth changes in size to the point that he is going to hit some really high notes when he lets out his next victory whoop.

   Eddie manages to loose two arrows, rubs up against poison ivy while on the stalk and all he has to show for it is a lousy chipmunk. His wife is going to have something to say about that.

   As he returns to camp, foot sore, soaking wet and itching form head to foot, the chief calls him over. The chief says that there has been a change in the duty roster and Eddie is going to have to pull a double guarding the corn tonight and will be on the drum detail for tomorrow’s rain dance. Eddie hates drumming. He has no sense of rhythm.

   As he comes to his teepee, he sees what has to be a 250-pound deer hanging in front of his neighbor’s tent. It is well known that Lucky Lennie couldn’t hit a buffalo in the butt with a snow shovel and now he has a championship carcass outside. The only logical explanation is that the deer must have died of a heart attack at Lennie’s feet.

   Mrs. Eddie is outside the teepee, arms akimbo with THE LOOK on her face. It turns out that during the day’s storm the teepee sprung a leak in the exact spot she has been after him to patch. Now he has a leather encased mud puddle in which to sleep. As a bonus, the dog peed on his last pair of dry moccasins.

   Nothing I mentioned couldn’t have happened and it makes more sense to me than the settler attacking, worthy adversary, noble, flower child that Hollywood would have us believe existed. © 2009 Harmony County

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Written by harmonycounty

December 30, 2009 at 4:42 p12

Posted in Americana, Humor

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