THE STORY OF HOW THE MONKEY BELLHOP BLOG CAME TO BE
It was January, 1776. The internet was made of hickory back then and most people couldn’t afford hickory so I had to go door to door trying to get people to subscribe to a faux Internet which was made from dried apples and old corn husks which in those days were not as worthless as they are today unless you’re into making puppets.
While the sledding was rough in those early days, it never snowed, so it was, for the most part, a non issue.
One day, I was getting my pants de-hemmed (making them longer because I’d always felt funny wearing knee socks and not being an eight year old girl in parochial school) and Ben Franklin happened to enter the tailor shop I was in.
We didn’t speak to each other because I didn’t know him. Supposed to have been a pretty good guy, though.
My internet business was beginning to take off until the year I turned 17 and that summer was when the Indians, now known as native Americans or if you’re in an antagonistic or envious mood, casino owners, attacked our town and set fire to the internet.
We didn’t take too kindly to that and immediately assembled a posse of men and set out for our homes where we politely asked our wives to go after the Indians because in those days, everybody, including the Indians was more scared of men’s wives than men themselves.
My wife, Mavis, never returned but other men were not quite so lucky and they had to invent the gold rush in California just to create an alibi tight reason to leave home and finally get a little peace and quiet.
It was less than twelve years after Mavis failed to return but definitely more than six, maybe seven years. I could tell you exactly by judging the size of the bald spot on the back of my head ‘cept I had to sell my mirror one winter because I needed the money to tip the paperboy. If you didn’t tip the paperboy in those days they hung all your livestock. Around the time of I speak. Wait, that can’t be right. Around the time I speak, it was the great power in Europe, Spain — well, I think I’m far enough away from the beginning of this sentence not to have to look back any further — that Spain decided to get involved in the affairs heretofore and so sent a couple of tall ships over armed to the teeth with nine millimeter cannons and howitzers. I happened to see them when they were at the dock. They were pretty nice ships.
Flash forward to many years later, like so many pages of the calendar being shorn from their hinges and set in the wind like those scenes in the old RKO pictures when time was moving pretty good and they wanted you to know it but without having some old guy named Pappy have to say, “Man, where did the last 18 years go?” I set out to see the West and was the only surviving member of the Donner party, and by that I mean the only guy who didn’t get tomato sauce on his jacket when Mrs. Donner threw a pot of it at her husband for making a joke at her expense. I think I was in St. Louis around that time. So saddled was I with the heavy burden of survivor guilt for being the only one who left the Donners’ with a clean outfit, I started a blog. Not this one, but one sort of like it.
As for the title: The Monkey Bellhop — There are only two things I believe in in this world. One, I believe you should always knock before opening a bathroom door and two, I believe it’s impossible to take life seriously while watching a monkey in a bellhop outfit terrorize people by scrambling across their heads, flinging plates, cups and saucers against a wall or swinging from a chandelier until it dislodges from the ceiling and crashes on to a dining room table surrounded by high society types dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns.
Anyway, I hope you’ll read my stuff. I could use the company, I really could. Between you and me — I think I might be starting to lose it…
© The Monkey Bellhop. All rights reserved.