My Pals The Mongols

I have been on vacation, or as they say in England, "Drinking A Lot". I spent a day in The City Of Lights which is, of course, Spokane, Washington. It was their annual Lilac Day Festival where they celebrate, well, Lilacs. They have a parade and a car show and lots of fragrant bums, no, Lilacs. The bums are more pungent than fragrant. The parade was quite enjoyable. They had at least 150 Rodeo Queens riding their horses in the parade. Every small town around Spokane must have a rodeo and by logic, they must have a queen. My Son enjoyed watching them. He thinks that he's royalty. He kept running into the parade asking the Rodeo Queens if they wanted to start a monarchy with him in Idaho. One girl managed to get him in the behind with her spur. He hasn't moved that fast since he played basketball. There must be some kind of parade law that says every horse in the parade must be followed by a pooper-scooper. I called them James Carville's. "There's some more Clinton on the road! Get it James!" It was more fun than heckling David Letterman. I can only really watch fifty or sixty Rodeo Queens before I have to take a break. So, I went to the lounge at our motel. Who should be there, but The Mongols motorcycle gang. Turns out they enjoy Lilacs as much as anyone. They had pretty much taken over the lounge. Well, thirst for bourbon has made many a man braver than he should be. I sauntered into the lounge. I made my way to the bar. There were more Mongols there than conquered China back in the 1960s or whenever. And they weren't about to move aside and let me in. It was time for some quick thinking. I tapped a guy on the shoulder and said, "Hey, buddy, nice vest. You work at Home Depot?" They didn't appreciate my fine sense of humor. About a dozen of them surrounded me. "Look! It's the whole paint department." They slammed me into a chair. They brought ten shots of tequila and told me I had to chug them. Little did they know that I have a natural tolerance to tequila. That, and Barry Manilow. I tossed them down with no problem. That amazed them. They were trying to figure out something else to test me with when I remembered the old saying, "Music soothes the savage Mongol", or something like that, so I started singing. Now, I do a version of Danny Boy that gets to everyone and pretty soon, every Mongol had taken off his bandana and was wiping his eyes or blowing his nose. When I got to "Until you come to me", they were sobbing and reaching for their cell phones to call their mothers. They elected me "Khan For The Day" and gave me a 21 Knife Salute. What a swell bunch of guys. I might even get out my Vespa Scooter and see about joining them.

I have been on vacation, or as they say in England, “Drinking A Lot”. I spent a day in The City Of Lights which is, of course, Spokane, Washington.

It was their annual Lilac Day Festival where they celebrate, well, Lilacs. They have a parade and a car show and lots of fragrant bums, no, Lilacs. The bums are more pungent than fragrant.

The parade was quite enjoyable. They had at least 150 Rodeo Queens riding their horses in the parade. Every small town around Spokane must have a rodeo and by logic, they must have a queen.

My Son enjoyed watching them. He thinks that he’s royalty. He kept running into the parade asking the Rodeo Queens if they wanted to start a monarchy with him in Idaho. One girl managed to get him in the behind with her spur. He hasn’t moved that fast since he played basketball.

There must be some kind of parade law that says every horse in the parade must be followed by a pooper-scooper. I called them James Carvilles. “There’s some more Clinton on the road! Get it James!” It was more fun than heckling David Letterman.

I can only really watch fifty or sixty Rodeo Queens before I have to take a break. So, I went to the lounge at our motel. Who should be there, but The Mongols motorcycle gang.

Turns out they enjoy Lilacs as much as anyone. They had pretty much taken over the lounge. Well, thirst for bourbon has made many a man braver than he should be.

I sauntered into the lounge. I made my way to the bar. There were more Mongols there than conquered China back in the 1960s or whenever. And they weren’t about to move aside and let me in. It was time for some quick thinking.

I tapped a guy on the shoulder and said, “Hey, buddy, nice vest. You work at Home Depot?” They didn’t appreciate my fine sense of humor. About a dozen of them surrounded me. “Look! It’s the whole paint department.” They slammed me into a chair.

They brought ten shots of tequila and told me I had to chug them. Little did they know that I have a natural tolerance to tequila. That, and Barry Manilow. I tossed them down with no problem. That amazed them.

They were trying to figure out something else to test me with when I remembered the old saying, “Music soothes the savage Mongol”, or something like that, so I started singing.

Now, I do a version of Danny Boy that gets to everyone and pretty soon, every Mongol had taken off his bandana and was wiping his eyes or blowing his nose. When I got to “Until you come to me”, they were sobbing and reaching for their cell phones to call their mothers.

They elected me “Khan For The Day” and gave me a 21 Knife Salute. What a swell bunch of guys.

I might even get out my Vespa Scooter and see about joining them.

(Ciao)

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