New Years Family Game Night: Bingo!

The other day, I decided to do some grocery shopping. Before I left, I asked my dogs if they wanted anything from the grocery store.

FREEDOM: Pick up some bacon.

 

ME: Anything else?

MACKY: More bacon.

ME: Anything else besides bacon?

SARAH: Pick up some scratch tickets.

I mentioned in a previous blog entry that me and my dogs play the lottery.

Coulrophobia and other

fears will be covered in

a future blog entry.

ME:P Which ones?

 

SARAH: Any of the $1 is OK, except Money Madness - they haven't been paying good for me.

 

ME: OK

 

SARAH: And no Clowning Around.

 

ME: Those not been paying good either?

 

SARAH: No, I just hate clowns.

According to Wikipedia:
The first recorded signs of a lottery are keno slips from the Chinese Han Dynasty between 205 and 187 BC. These lotteries are believed to have helped to finance major government projects like the Great Wall of China. From the Chinese "The Book of Songs" (2nd millennium BC.) comes a reference to a game of chance as "the drawing of wood", which in context appears to describe the drawing of lots. From the Celtic era, the Cornish words "teulel pren" translates into "to throw wood" and means "to draw lots". The Iliad of Homer refers to lots being placed into Agamemnon's helmet to determine who would fight Hector.

 

The first known European lotteries were held during the Roman Empire, mainly as an amusement at dinner parties. Each guest would receive a ticket, and prizes would often consist of fancy items such as dinnerware. Every ticket holder would be assured of winning something. This type of lottery, however, was no more than the distribution of gifts by wealthy noblemen during the Saturnalian revelries. The earliest records of a lottery offering tickets for sale is the lottery organized by Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar. The funds were for repairs in the City of Rome, and the winners were given prizes in the form of articles of unequal value.

Our dream of going to the Caribbean and becoming pirates is being delayed by our inability to pick the six numbers needed to win the state lottery.

Our dream of going to the
Caribbean and becoming
pirates is being delayed by
our inability to pick the six
numbers needed to win the
state lottery.

I mentioned in Lottery Tickets, Giant Redwoods, and Pirates that me and the dogs play the Lottery. We rarely win and when we do it isn't much. So far this year, we purchased $89 on tickets (including Sarah's scratchers) and won a total of $55 which means we are down $34.

So, if we don't expect to win, why do we play?

For the fantasy aspect.

Purchasing a lottery ticket allows us to fantasize about what we would do if we actually did win a big jackpot.

Our current plan is to by a RV and see the country, starting with the Redwoods in California. Or move to the Caribbean to become pirates. We haven't finalized out plans just yet.

So, you may ask, couldn't we still do that without wasting a dollar on a lottery ticket?

We could, but it wouldn't be the same without the possibility (however remote) of winning.  And the odds are significantly better if you buy a ticket.

 

Let me tell you a story:

There was a minister who presided over a poor but honest congregation in a small Midwestern town. The church building, originally erected in 1821 was in need of much repair, but (sadly) there just wasn't any money to make the repairs. So he prayed on it. And what he prayed for was for God to let him win the lottery, so he would have the money to make the badly needed repairs to the church. And he continued to pray on it week after week, and week after week, he did not win the lottery. Finally, in exasperation, he fell to his knees and cried out "Lord! Why do you not answer my prayers? I am not asking to win the money for myself, but for the church. Your church. "   There suddenly came a rumbling, thunderous, and a voice from above spoke: "My son, you must work with me. You have to buy a lottery ticket first."

 

A lot of people in my family play lottery. My Uncle Dave, however, doesn't. He is mistrustful of lotteries. According to him, the last time he "played" a lottery, he got sent to Vietnam.

For those of you who didn't understand, it was a reference to the military draft.

Neither does my cousin Clara. Being a Baptist, Clara disapproves of gambling.

And a lot of other "immoral" entertainments.

But she does play Bingo, (another lottery-type game).

So if gambling is OK to raise
money for the church, what
about other "immoral" forms
of entertainment?

Cousin Clara won't play cards (even for fun) but goes to "church" Bingo religiously (pun intended) every Wednesday night. Apparently gambling isn't immoral, as long as the church benefits. Although gambling is a sin according to Baptists (and a few other denominations), playing Bingo for money is allowed if it is sponsored by the church. Clara would condemn gambling (and other so called vices), but would proudly announce how much she won on Wednesday Night Bingo at the church. I guess as long as the church is the one profiting, its OK?

Jesus had a word for this, I think... What was it?  Oh, yeah: hypocrisy!

 

Roman soldiers gambled for Jesus' garment at the Crucifixion. Can you imagine how much it would be worth on eBay?  Lottery is mentioned in the Bible: And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting lots: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots. (Matthew 27:35) Other reference to lots can be found in the bible. There is no reference to Bingo in the Bible. Chances are, Jesus would not have approved of church sponsored bingo. He was not pleased with money changers in the temple, so I doubt he would have tolerated Bingo.   And can you really envision Mary going to Bingo once a week?

 

 

 

Me and my dogs will be playing Bingo on New Years Eve.

A couple of years back, we stayed up until midnight New Years, eating dog treats and watching Time Square on TV. When midnight came, I blew a horn and said "Happy New Years!" The dogs watched at me as I sang Auld Lang Syne (They didn't know the words, so they couldn't sing along) and when I finished, Freedom, (my oldest dog) ask "Now what?"  

Sarah, my female, snorted and walked off, mumbling "I can't believe I stayed up for this."

After this, we took a different course. Instead of staying up until midnight, we only stay up until 9pm.

Why 9pm?

Because we live on the west coast, and we watch Time Square on an internet feed - Midnight there is 9pm here.

Hey, it's New Years somewhere. 

This way, we can go to bed at a reasonable hour, because we need to get up early in order to watch the Tournament of Roses Parade.

My dog's like parades.

 

Oh there ain't no bugs on me.
Oh there ain't no bugs on me.
There may be bugs
on some of you mugs.
But there ain't no bugs on me.

I mentioned in an previous blog that me and my Canines do family nights from time to time. In addition to movie night, we also have game night (which I will cover that in more depth in a future blog entry) and one of the games we play is Bingo.

 

Awhile back, I found a home Bingo game at a flea market. I thought the dogs might enjoy that. They like games. They don't like flea markets.

My dogs will not go to the flea market with me.  

They are suspicious of the term "flea" market. I have tried to assure them that they do not sell fleas there, but they don't want to risk being contaminated.

Being dogs, they just don't want fleas.

So I bought the game, and brought it home with me. Macky noticed the box in my hand and asked what it was. I told him it was a Bingo set. (I didn't tell him I bought it at the "flea" market - no point upsetting him.)

MACKY: Hey, I know Bingo!

ME: You do?

MACKY: Yeah!

He then stood up on his hind legs and started singing while doing a little dog dance.

MACKY: There was a farmer had a dog, And Bingo was his name-o. (clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap) (clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap) (clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap) And Bingo was his name-o. And Bingo was his name-o.

If you are truly unfamiliar with Bingo
and how it is played, click here.)

Most of us at least know what Bingo is, and the basics of play. Many of us were exposed to it grade school, like in Mrs. Frothingslosh second grade class. I'm not sure what we were suppose to learn from playing Bingo, but we were obedient children and listened as she called out the numbers (B-7, G-55, I-22, etc.) until someone got five in a row and called out Bingo! (followed by grumbling from the rest of the class). After having his or her card checked by Mrs. Frothingslosh, he or she would receive a prize, usually a piece of cheap candy.

 

Typical Bingo Card

Bingo is a game of chance played with randomly drawn numbers which players match against numbers on their card(s). The matrices may be printed on paper, card stock or electronically represented and are referred to as cards. Many versions conclude the game when the first person achieves a specified pattern from the drawn numbers. The winner is usually required to call out the word "Bingo!", which alerts the other players and caller of a win.

 

In the Bingo halls, there is usually more to calling Bingo than just 5 in a row. Usually there are patterns with cutsie names like "lucky clover" and "the kite" and the first person to forn the prescribed pattern on his or her card wins.

 

Alternative methods of play try to increase participation by creating excitement. Since its invention in 1929, modern Bingo has evolved into multiple variations, with each jurisdiction's gambling laws regulating how the game is played. There are also nearly unlimited patterns that may be specified for play. Some games require only one number to be matched, while cover-all games award the jackpot for covering an entire card. There are even games that award prizes to players for matching no numbers or achieving no pattern.

 

 

The Friend

My first experience with Bingo occurred when a friend decided that we (myself and a few other friends) needed to Bingo...

We (myself and a few other friends) wanted to go drinking.

The friends was adamant about wanting to go Bingo (we never completely understood why). We were equally adamant about going drinking.

The compromise was that we would go drinking after Bingo. 

So we went to the local bingo hall.

The first thing you notice upon entering the Bingo hall is that the clientele is primarily elderly ladies, and rednecks. And elderly rednecks.

We paid our price of admission, and were give a stack of assorted Bingo cards (actually paper). We then went to the concession stand and  purchased drinks (non-alcoholic), munchies, and Bingo daubers (a necessity to play), and then found a spot at one of the tables and set up as best we could. We weren't exactly sure of how to play, but we were seated next to an elderly grandmother-type who was quite helpful and explained exactly what we needed to do during each of the games.
 

@#$%!!!

Basically, the game begins by the caller drawing and calling a number from the Bingo apparatus, and if you have that number on one of your cards, you daub it with your dauber. This continues at a medium pace until someone gets a Bingo - and you know that game is over when someone yells BINGO! which is followed by @#$%!!! from 2-3 dozen elderly ladies.

I kid you not. These elderly matrons, who no doubt were baking cookies that afternoon were swearing like sailors. Worse, like rappers. I was shocked by there language, and I was in the miliary! There lady who was sitting across from me, who looked as old as yoda, dropped an F-bomb that reverberated in the Bingo hall and lingered in the air for several minutes. 

I kid you not. When I recovered from the shock of granny's expletive, I asked her "Do you kiss your grandchildren with that mouth?"

These old ladies are ruthless. They do not like to lose.

I used to drive by the Bingo hall and see the rent-a-cop walking in front, and I always thought he was there to keep the place from being robbed. Now I realize he's there to make sure the winners make it to their cars without getting beat-up by the losers.

We played through the series of games, after which we proceeded out of the Bingo hall in order to go drinking.

And, in case you are wondering, I won $200 that night.

And the nice rent-a-cop escorted me, and my winnings, to my car after Lady F-Bomb threatened to beat the @#$% out of me.

Angry Seniors at Bingo Night.

Bingo is good recreation for elderly rednecks, or the elderly in general. Many of them are afflicted with arthritis or rheumatism, but despite their shriveled hands they can still play, because the Bingo dauber is designed to fit right into their gnarled, curled fingers.
 

And you wouldn't know that they had arthritis the way they play Bingo. There was one old lady I saw who came into the Bingo hall very slowly, using a walker. She bought quite a bit of extra tickets, about a dozen, and had them laid out in front of her. And for being a slow and arthritic, that grandma had no problem keeping pace with the caller. Her little wrinkled arm became a blur as she stamped all of her cards.

I was having a problem with the three I had. 

My dogs enjoy playing Bingo. The first evening we set up in the living room on the coffee table. Each of the dogs got a card and a ink pad. We had to make an adaption to accommodate the dogs: There was a plethora of small, plastic chips (about the size of dimes) that were to be used to cover the numbers on the cards. However, lacking opposable thumbs, the dogs were not able to utilize them as effectively as humans.   So what I did is went to the dollar store, and bought some ink pads (for a dollar.) Speaking of the dollar store, why does the dollar store have all those buttons on the cash register? Everything is a dollar, so the only need two buttons: One Dollar and Tax. Each of the dogs got an ink pad. When I called out a number (and if it was on their card) what they would do was put their paw on the ink pad, then stamp the number on the card with their paw print. Sort of a built in Bingo dauber. I was the caller. We played the simple version of Bingo (like in Mrs. Frothingslosh class) where all you had to do is get five in a row. The prize was a dog treat. The first dog to get 5 in a row got a treat... And unlike the grandmas, the others did not turn nasty when they lost. They enjoyed Bingo, especially stomping on the Bingo cards. They said we could do this again on another family night, especially if they could stomp the Bingo cards (they liked that part).   And when we were done, they got their paws cleaned off with a wet wipe.



Troll dolls were originally created in 1959 by Danish

fisherman and woodcutter Thomas Dam. Dam could not

afford a Christmas gift for his young daughter Lila and

carved the doll from his imagination. When other children

in the Danish town of Gjøl saw the troll doll, they wanted

one as well. Dam's company Dam Things began producing

the dolls in plastic under the name Good Luck Trolls. The

dolls became popular in several European countries during

the early 1960s, shortly before they were introduced in the

United States. They became one of the United States'

biggest toy fads from the autumn of 1963 through 1965.

One might assume from observation that good luck charms are as essential as Bingo daubers, but this is not the case. Good luck charms are not an essential for Bingo play, but they are (apparently) an essential part of the Bingo experience, judging from the plethora of talismans and amulets and other juju present at the player tables.

 

There were numerous rabbit foots, lucky clovers, and other pieces of luck. There was also a lot of small photos in frames, presumably family members (children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren) of the Bingo players. I saw assorted Beanie Bears

And Good Luck Trolls.

And I never noticed, until I went to Bingo, just how much some old ladies look like Good Luck Trolls. 

 

In the US, the game is primarily staged by churches or charity organizations. Their legality and stakes vary by state regulation. In some states, Bingo halls are rented out to sponsoring organizations, and such halls often run games almost every day. Church-run games, however, are normally weekly affairs held on the church premises. These games are usually played for modest stakes, although the final game of a session is frequently a coverall game that offers a larger jackpot prize for winning within a certain quantity of numbers called, and a progressive jackpot is one that may increase per session until it is won.

And someone yells Bingo!!!

And 2-3 dozen old ladies start swearing. 

 

There are some other variations to the basic (and advanced) form of bingo, some of which include:
 

Buzzword Bingo also known as bullshit bingo, is a bingo-style game where participants prepare bingo cards with buzzwords and tick them off when they are uttered during an event, such as a meeting or speech. The goal of the game is to tick off a predetermined number of words in a row and then yell "Bingo!" (or "Bullshit!").

I used to work at Wal*Mart, and I mentioned this game to a co-worker. A short time later, the general manager came around to our section of the story. She needed to "touch base" with everybody in order to "stay in the loop" and "etc." and "etc."

My co-worker began to giggle, then could not stop laughing, and eventually had to excuse herself under the excuse of "needing to powder her nose."

Cow Patty Bingo, also known as Cow Pie Bingo or Bovine Bingo, is a fundraising favorite at village fetes the world over.  An enclosed area in a field is marked off into a grid of squares. Each square is given a number. People buy a square. When enough of the squares are sold a cow or other farm animal is allowed onto the field. Spectators wait "with bated breath" until the cow splats. The owner of the square that receives the first dollop wins.

I did find an article where a person used

Puppy Poo Bingo to let his new dog

name himself.

FREEDOM: Do they have Dog Doo Bingo?

MACKY: Yeah! Me and Freedom could be callers!

SARAH: That is just gross.

ME: Yeah? Well how about this one: 

Roadkill Bingo is a game in which the pictures of 24 different animals are placed randomly in a grid, printed on paper or cardboard. The game is traditionally played in vehicles during long distance travel. When a dead specimen of one of these animals is spotted by a player, that square in the grid is marked off with either a Bingo blotter or some other writing instrument. Small poker like chips may be used to designate spotted dead animals, however the jarring due to bumps in the road make this a less viable option. Only the first person to spot the roadkill is entitled to mark off the corresponding picture. As in regular Bingo, the object of the game is to spot a sequence of five dead animals which are in the same row or column on the Bingo card, after which the person yells "Bingo!!!"

SARAH: That is wrong, on several levels.

 

So as I am writing this, my dogs are preparing for our New Years party. Macky Rae is currently in the kitchen microwaving some popcorn. Freedom is printing up Bingo cards. Last year, Macky Rae printed up the cards, and this did not work out so well. On the first game, all three dogs called Bingo! at the same time. Yes, he printed up several copies of the exact same Bingo card.  So this year (not that he would repeat the same mistake, but just to be safe) we assigned Macky Rae popcorn duty.  And we have our party spread on - meats, cheeses, and crackers from Hickory Farms (of Ohio). Sarah is preparing the platter. And (of course) dog treats. And I will make up a batch of my holiday eggnog. And at 9pm (12 midnight EST) we will count down... Five - Four - Three - Two -One - Bingo!!! ...sing Auld Lang Syne. I taught the dogs the words, so they will try to sing it with me this year.

MACKY: Hey, Dad. What is an Auld Lang Syne?

A good question.

MACKY: I know, that's why I asked it. 



Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and days of long ago?
                             
For days of long ago, my dear,
for days of long ago,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for days of long ago.

Auld Lang Syne is a Scots poem written by Robert Burns in 1788 and set to the tune of a traditional folk song. It is well known in many countries, especially in the English-speaking world, its traditional use being to bid farewell to the old year at the stroke of midnight. By extension, it is also sung at funerals, graduations and as a farewell or ending to other occasions. The song's title may be translated into English literally as "old long since", or more idiomatically, "long long ago", "days gone by" or "old times". Consequently "For auld lang syne", as it appears in the first line of the chorus, might be loosely translated as "for (the sake of) old times".

 

"Auld Lang Syne" is traditionally sung at the conclusion of New Year gatherings in Scotland and around the world, especially in English-speaking countries.

MACKY: What do they sing in non-English speaking countries?

I don't know. 

 

 

 

To friends, family, and loyal readers:

Have a Happy and Prosperous New Years

Gambling, Hunting, Guns and Nudity (Part 3)

Me and my dogs had an enjoyable 4th of July. A neighbor decided to have a barbecue, to which we were invited.

We accepted the invitation. As fans of this blog are no doubt aware: my dogs ♥ barbecue.

I had a burger and a variety of tasty potato and macaroni salads (and Mt. Dew), and the dogs ate wieners (and whatever else they were able to mooch of the other attendees of the cookout).

As the afternoon became evening, me and my dogs thanked our gracious hosts, and returned to our humble abode, as the sun had gone below the horizon and as the darkness increased, so did the bottle rockets.

Ever year, the media warns all to keep their pets inside during the 4th, as fear of the fireworks may cause them to run off. My dogs are fairly brave souls, and the have never shown fear of the fireworks, but the continual boom! boom! agitates them a bit, so we go inside, turn on the radio and listen to some music.

As the evening grew later, the dogs went to their accustom evening spots to go to sleep. However, some of our neighbors (not the nice ones who invited us to barbecue) returned from where ever and began to set of some firecrackers.

Sarah (my female who had, up until that point, been asleep) woke up at the pop! pop! pop! going on outside. She got up, climbed onto the back of the sofa, and looked out the window in order to investigate.

As she investigated, the neighbors lit another pack of firecrackers, which cause Sarah to start barking. But it was not a bark of fear, it was a bark of anger, as if to say Will you people knock it off? We're trying to sleep in here!

What does this have to do with the subject of todays blog entry? Nothing. I just wanted to share that story with everyone.

---

Warning: This blog entry contains a light hearted discussion of nudity, a subject that many people find offensive. If you are offended by nudity, discussions of guns, nudity, gambling, hunting, or free speech, you may not want to continue reading.

However, if you like nudity(or guns), or at least discussions of nudity (or guns), or just want to find out what bizarre and off the wall things I have to say, then by all means continue reading.

---

If you missed the story of Keith, slot
machines, and the Indians, it can be
found at Gambling (part 1)

If you want information on how to
play Roulette, go to wikipedia.org

My friend Keith and I went to a casino awhile back.

Yes, the same Keith I taught to gamble.

And yes, the same casino with Pocahontas and the advance surveillance system.

By this time, the casino had been completed completely, and had a full range of games that weren't there when I (with Keith) originally visited the casino about a year prior.

One of the games was roulette.

Roulette is kind of an interesting game, mainly because of the little marble that goes around and around making the clickity-clickity noise that is beckons to people "come play! come play!"

As we were playing, a rather attractive young woman came up to the table, opened her purse and remove five 100-dollar bills, which were quickly exchanged for chips by the croupier. She requested all black, and was give five $100 black chips.

"Can I bet all of them on the same spot?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the pit boss said "but the table limit is $100."

"Where can I place a $500 bet?" she asked

"All the tables in this casino have a $100 limit, unless special permission is granted."

"Who can grant that?"

"The floor manager."

The floor manager was called, and it was explained to him that the woman wanted to pace a single numbers bet with $500. He glanced over at the women, then agreed to allow the $500 bet.

"Place your bets!" the croupier called out.

"I have one more request" the woman said. "May I play naked?"

You could feel the silence descend upon the table.

"Seriously?" the floor manager asked.

"Yeah" she answered "I have better luck when I wear less clothing"

All eyes fell on the manager, who appeared to be either contemplating the request, or trying to determine if the woman was serious.

"Are you talking completely naked?" he asked.

"Nothing but what I was born with" she replied.

A moment passed. Two, then three. Finally he spoke again.

"Oh, what the hell."

The woman, having been given the go-ahead, proceeded to remove every stitch of clothing she had on. You could feel the silence descend on the entire casino floor.

Finally, when she had reached the state of full nakedness, she leaned over the table, chips in hand, and contemplated the layout.

All eyes fell on her... Well, you know where.

She finally selected a number by placing the chips on the appropriate number.

"Betting is closed!" the manager said before anyone else could place a bet, not that anyone at the table was planning to.

All eyes fell on the croupier, who looked confused, momentarily unaware of why everyone was staring at him until he suddenly remembered it was his job to spin the wheel. He started the wheel, then released the ball. The ball zipped around the bowl, bouncing from slot to slot (to slot) until it finally settled into one of the slots.

"Woo Hoo!" the woman yelled, jumping up and down (female parts jiggling with her). "I won! I won! I won!"

The croupier shook off his daze and began to count out 175 black $100 chips, which was an amazing feat of concentration considering the woman (and her parts) were bouncing the entire time, but he accomplished the task quickly and accurately, then slide the chips across the table next to her original $500 bet.

The woman then gathered her chips, blew everyone a kiss, then gathered her clothing and was escorted by a casino security guard to the cashier's cage. It was there, while the cashier counted out $18,000, that she finally began to redress (much to our disappointment), collected her money, and after blowing everyone kisses again headed out of the casino (still under escort), presumably to her car.

It wasn't until she had vanished from sight that anyone spoke or gaming resumed.

"That was unusual" the manager commented.

"I'll say" croupier confirmed.

"I can't wait to start telling this story" the manager said. "By the way, what number did she bet on?"

The croupier suddenly looked somewhat nervous.

"I thought you were watching that." 

Now that I told a nudity story, I need to tell a gun story. Since the name of this blog entry is "Guns and nudity (part 3)," if I don't tell a gun story I would only be able to call this blog entry "and Nudity (part 3)," which wouldn't make as much sense.

I don't hunt.
I realize that in our culture there was, at one time, a need to hunt in order to provide food for one's family. But that was before grocery stores.

I don't see hunting as a sport. Maybe I should say that I don't see hunting as "sporting."

How many points do the deer get?

The dictionary definition of sporting, as in a sporting chance is defined as "an even or fair opportunity for a favorable outcome in an enterprise, as winning in a game of chance or in any kind of contest." When the deer are armed, and a few hunter's heads are mounted on the wall of Bambi's den, then we will call hunting a sport.

		Speaking of Bambi, ever heard about Hunting for Bambi? The premise is that (male) hunters pay $5000-10,000 for the privilege of hunting "Bambis" (semi-naked women wearing nothing but a thong and tennis shoes) in the deserts of Las Vegas by picking them off with paintballs powerful enough to draw blood. The Bambis are paid $2,500 if they avoid getting hit and $1,000 even if they do get hit. But I digress

Theodore J. Barnes

This story was told to me by my Uncle Theo.

The story takes place when My Uncle was courting Aunt Helen, which means it took place somewhere between 1953 (when Uncle Theo returned from Korea) and 1957 (when he finally married Aunt Helen).

Theo and his friend, Wilbur, decided to do a little hunting up around Moose Lake. There was talk of a grizzly around there, and neither of them had ever shot a bear.

Uncle Theo and Wilbur asked their girlfriends/fiancées if they wanted to spend a weekend hunting bear, and the agreed

Being country girls, they actually did want to go hunting.

The drove up to the cabin on Moose lake, and spent the evening doing redneck stuff - like drinking beer and telling stories. It got late, so everyone decided to go to bed.

There own bed. This was the 1950s, people didn't do immoral stuff back then.

They all got up at the crack of dawn (and dawn cracks early in the mountains). Uncle Theo and Wilbur were up and dressed first, which meant they had to start the fire in the stove, and make the coffee. Later, when Aunt Helen and Lorraine emerged from there rooms, they cooked breakfast.

Now, a lot of you are thinking that it was sexist for My Uncle and his friend to expect the women to cook. Keep in mind, this was the 1950s - that's the way it worked back then.

And if you ever tasted Uncle Theo's cooking, you would wanted Aunt Helen to do the cooking.

After breakfast was eaten, everyone went to put on there coats, hats, and other hunting apparel, and then everyone met out in front of the cabin. Uncle Theo and Wilbur were out first.

To this day, scientists are baffled as to why it always takes women longer to get ready.

Aunt Helen emerge after the boys. And the three of them waited on Lorraine.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally Lorraine emerged from the cabin, and Uncle Theo, Aunt Helen, and Wilbur gasped

Lorraine had come out of the cabin wearing only a pair of hunting boots, holding her 30-06 Winchester in her arms.

And a hunting hat. Aunt Helen remembers the plaid hunting hat with the big ear flaps.

Nobody spoke at first. Everyone was speechless. I mean, what do you say to a naked ladies with a 30-06 Winchester?

---

"You know, I can't think of nothing finer than a fine naked woman holding a gun. You know you're just all kinds of fine, don't you?"
~ Frankie Figs (Micheal Clark Duncan),
The Whole Nine Yards (2000)

---

"Lorraine!" Wilbur hollered. "Where are you clothes?"

A logical question.

"There in the cabin." She answered.

"Why aren't you wearing them?"

Also a good question.

"You said we were coming up here to hunt bare."

Aunt Helen mentioned at this point in the story that she now knew for sure that Lorraine was indeed a natural blond, because of.. well, you know, down there.

The carpet matched the curtains.

"She never had the sense the Good Lord gave a goose" my Aunt said. "She still doesn't."

When Aunt Helen said this, I realized that Lorraine in the story had to be Mrs. Breckenridge (and Wilbur was the late Mr. Breckenridge) which was something that I did not want to know.

And the reason I did not want to know this was because Mrs. Breckenridge taught Sunday School at the local church, and the one image that you do not want is one of your Sunday school teacher buck naked carrying a Winchester 30-06!

My Aunt said "I can't think of anyone dumber than Lorraine."

I can.

What about the Genius that gave her the 30-06 in the first place?

Geneology (part 2): Samuel "Chet" Barnes (1828-1903)

This entry is being published a day late. The reason is that I often make notes (in a notebook), and then organize them into a comprehensible story, and then post them to the blog. The problem is that I still have two of Sarah's pups, and without thinking I left the notebook on my chair when I left to go shopping, and when I returned, the pups had destroyed my manuscript.

That's right, my dogs ate my homework.

Samuel "Chet" Barnes (1828-1903)

Our family name was anglicized

from a Gaelic name that roughly

translates as "My, there are a lot

of black sheep in our family."

Like most families, mine has a few skeletons in the closet. Perhaps it's just the fact that our family history goes back a few hundred years, but it seems to me that there are (were) a higher proportion of derelicts in our family than other families. Or maybe it's just that one is more aware of what goes on in one's own family than  one does about others.

A lot of the information I have comes from oral traditions (that is, the stories told by the older members of the family at gatherings about family members that have shuffled off their mortal coils).

I have a cousin who got interested in genealogy and traced our family back several generations. If you have illusions of having descended from illustrious ancestry, genealogy is probably something you don't want to look into. Horse thieves and other ne'er-do-wells are more likely to appear than princes and potentates. And that's more or less what my cousin discovered.

One of  the family's "black sheep" in the 19th century was Samuel "Chet" Barnes. There was little about "Chet" that was remarkable, including his academical record. He graduated last in his graduating class, ranking below a fellow classmate who died of cholera a month before graduation. He scored poorly on his SATs, and the only college that would admit him was the Hoboken Community College (and even then they required an "endowment" from his father.) He studied bookkeeping, graduating in 1846 with a 2.9 GPA.

Which meant that if you were to ask "Chet" an accounting question, there was only a 72% chance that he knew the right answer.

After graduation "Chet" was hired by the accounting firm of Dewar, Jore, and MacMinn (they owed the family a few favors) and thus found himself gainfully employed. This lasted about two years, until "the problem" was discovered.

During the middle of the 19th century, many Americans were discovering a new card game that was becoming popular in the United States. The games was called Poker. Many gentlemen were becoming adherents of the game, amongst them was "Chet" - which wasn't "the problem." Nor was "the problem" that "Chet" played at every opportunity.

"The problem" was that he wasn't good at it.

In fact, he "wasn't good at it" to the rate of $76.92 per week, which wouldn't has been that much of a problem, except "Chet" only earned $72 per month. He began to accumulate a substantial debt (numerous IOUs to various gamblers and gangsters), and by the time the family discovered "Chet's" compulsion, he had been at it for over two years and had accumulated a debt of over $10,000 - which was a substantial amount in 1850.

Hell, it's a substantial amount these days.

In order to continue playing, "Chet" had signed markers, and several of them had come due (with interest) and several unsavory gentlemen wanted their money, and they wanted it immediately. Or they wanted "Chet" so they could extract a pound or two of flesh.

So, the family held a family meeting, and decided the best thing to do was to get "Chet" out of the country, preferably as far away as possible, preferably to somewhere in which Poker was unknown.

The family had contributed a substantial amount of money to the the 1848 campaign of Zachary Taylor, and so decided to cash in a chip (pun intended). A telegraph was sent to the President requesting a meeting, and a reply was received indicating the he (Taylor) was grateful for the campaign contribution and would be willing to meet with family members at the White House to discuss a possible remedy to the "Chet" dilemma. So a delegation of the family members boarded a train and arrived in Washington D.C. on July 10th, 1850.

However, Taylor died July 9th.

However, Millard Fillmore, Taylor's Vice-President who succeeded him as President was also aware of the family's campaign contributions (and was also grateful), and so met with the family delegation on July 12th. Fillmore was sympathetic to the family's situation, having a "black sheep" cousin himself. Fillmore referred the matter to then Secretary of State John Clayton, who it turned out had several "black sheep" family members. Clayton arranged an appointment for "Chet" to work at the American Consulate in Shanghai, China.

The family was most grateful.

On September 2nd, 1850, "Chet" boarded (some say forcefully) the M.S.Spitz, a somewhat aging Clipper ship bound for Shanghai via Rio de Janeiro, Cape Town, Bombay, Singapore, and Manilla. The ship averaged about 6 knots (about 7 mph).

Yes, "Chet" was placed on a slow boat to China.

"Chet" arrived in Shanghai February 10th, 1851. After meeting (briefly) with the Consul General (Clayton Middleton III) he has turned over to the consul's executive assistant, who assigned "Chet" the job of "cultural liaison," which meant going to meeting and other events at the other international consulates.

The ones that the Consul General didn't want to go to himself.

One such event was the 40th wedding anniversary of Sir Commodore James R. L. Chatham-Smythe (British Naval Liaison) and his lovely wife Elizabeth, held at their residence that overlooked Taihi Lake. It was here that "Chet" met General Jiang, Military attache from the Imperial Chinese Army to the British Delegation in Shanghai. Jiang was talking with George Baldwin (British Banking) regarding the "new American game of Poker" that was becoming popular in Shanghai (and elsewhere in the Orient).

"Chet" quickly introduced himself, and soon he and General Jiang were involved in a lengthy conversation on the merits of poker. Jiang told "Chet" that he, along with a few other Chinese potentates, had a weekly "friendly" poker game. He explained it was a "small stakes" game, and perhaps "Chet" would like to join them.

"Chet" accepted.

The game was held the following Thursday in a private room upstairs above Madame Wang's Tea House (and Gift Shop). Because Jiang was the only member of the potentate poker group that spoke English, "Chet" arrived with Mister Wu, his translator and personal assistant/valet. Other members of the potentate poker group were:

• Chen Weising, Deputy Minister of Agriculture,
• Fu Zhouzhang, Lieutenant Governor of Pungchow Province,
• Xing Yinhang, president of the First National Bank of the Orient,
• and Zhang Chengshì, Mayor of Shanghai.

Tea was served, and "Chet" was issued $1000 worth of poker chips. "Small stakes" has a different meaning to wealthy oriental autocrats than it does to a low level member of the embassy staff, and "Chet" soon found himself involved in a game of poker that was  higher staked than he originally thought, and the first $1000 was lost in about 45 minutes.

I mentioned "Chet' wasn't good at playing poker?

He "wasn't good" at the rate of of $13 per minute,  and he soon found himself down $2500.

His salary at the consulate was $115 per month. 

You can see where this was not good. 

The climax of the game came towards the end of the evening when a particular pot grew, and grew. The potentates were betting, and raising, in a rapid flurry of Chinese

Ah min! Ah jie! Ah zhong! Ah mao! Ah gou!

"Chet" was dealt four cards to a straight, so he stayed in, matching bets and raises despite the odds of drawing to an inside straight are 47 to 1.

As I said, "Chet" was not good at Poker. 

 Finally, bets were equalized. The pot had reached almost $5000 ($800 of it put in by our "hero"). Cards were drawn and "Chet" asked for one. Betting started up again

Ah tiao! Ah le! Ah lan! Ah duo! Ah huli!

"Chet" picked up his card and looked at it. Of course, it was not the carded he needed. 

Oh, @#$%!!! he thought.

Except he didn't didn't just think it. He said it. Out loud. 

The room suddenly became completely quite. "Chet" looked up and found five pairs of   eyes staring at him. At first he didn't understand what was going on, then he realized what he had said. Then a cold chill ran down his spine.

Oh, @#$%!!! he though. I have just insulted the potentates! I have just created an international incident.

Suddenly, all five of the Chinese dignitaries began talking at once, very fast. "Chet" was certain the worst had indeed occurred. But then Fu Zhouzhang (Lieutenant Governor of Pungchow Province) began to push the pile of chips towards "Chet."

Mr Wu ("Chet's" translator and personal assistant) leaned forward and examined his hand.

"Well played, honorable sir." Wu said. "Your one million dollar bluff was excellently played."