Commenter Rocket writes about hockey -- often in a strange way -- every week. He has the floor as we prepare for the Stanley Cup finals. Please note this was actually written by Rocket. Rocket? ----------
I have been too busy reading constitutional theory and turn of the nineteenth century North Dakota newspapers lately to write my own material this week.* So, I sub-contracted my guest post this week to Clarence Swamptown. All he asked for was any expired medications I had in my residence and a phone number where he could reach Dave Hakstol. You make for a cheap and fun date, Clarence. Take it away!
Clarence Swamptown's powers of clairvoyance and fertility strike again: As I have explained in the past, my better half truly is much, much smarter than I am. On more than one occasion she has saved me from myself, often to her own embarrassment and dismay. What you may not know is that before the better half's gentle touch made me a somewhat functional adult I had a long and stormy relationship with many of the outstate bars that I write about. One particularly hazy night I stumbled into an establishment expecting nothing out of the ordinary; which is to say that I expected to get drunk and to wake up the next morning not knowing how I got home. But as I walked into the back room of this particular establishment I saw something that I haven't seen before or since: an exotic dancer staring directly at me. This woman terrified me but I couldn't look away, and when she motioned me over to her with her remaining arm I was powerless to resist. Once I was within whispering distance she placed her lips next to my ear and quietly said, "When she asks you the question, you'll know why. The others will have the answer." Not understanding what any of that meant, I left the back room and to this day I still don't know how I got home that night. Then, yesterday I came home after a particularly difficult day of work. I sat down on the couch with a soft drink and a hard determination to ignore the gaggle of the kids running around my house. My lovely spouse sat beside me and asked me how my day was. I told her, "You would not believe it. I found this illegal [redacted] in the middle of nowhere. And the craziest part is that it was in the shape of a…" Just then one of small children racing about whom I recognized as one of my own approached us, and with a desperate pleading in her voice she asked, "Daddy, daddy, who would win if a whale fought a bear?" In that very moment the dancer's words came back to me. I looked at me daughter and I asked back, "Who do you think would win?" She replied, "Bears are pretty strong, but whales are bigger and I think they would win, especially if they got to fight in the water." My mission was clear. I grabbed other children as they ran by (I'm pretty sure they all belonged to my wife and me, but your own offspring become a blur after about the tenth or twelfth one) and I asked them the same question: Who would win if a whale fought a bear? I was surprised that I only had to grab five of them before I had four independently agreeing answers. After all of this time I finally understood. I understood what the dancer meant when she spoke to me that night and I also understood that my children had a gift that they did not comprehend. All of those years of confusion and non-comprehension and wonderment led to a moment of clarity that can be summed up in three words. Vancouver in five. Outstate Bar of the Week. The Palm Isle. This establishment is famous for having friendly waitresses who will come right up next to you. They also have a semi-famous patron who has a tendency to make you sick when he speaks. Can I watch the game there? Sure, if you're willing to watch it on a 19-inch 1971 RCA XL-100 model. Do they have a website? What are you, daft? This a fictional bar from a movie made in 1977. Al Gore was still several years away from inventing the internet. Are they on Twitter? Seriously, as soon as technology advances to the point where the internet can accommodate not just sight and sound but all of our senses I am going to reach through your computer and slap you in the face. Country & Western Song of the Week: Rump Shaker by WRECKX-N-EFFECT. Since nobody is going to call me on the fact that the songs that I pick are growing increasingly further and further away from the genre of Country & Western I am going to see how far I can push it. Did you know? According to the always reliable interweb, the guy who played Moe in Slap Shot was a born-again Christian who was conflicted about his classic character and the blasphemous film. Your thoughts on fighting animals, the best movie ever made, and "Rump Shaker" are welcome in the comments below. *Why have I been reading these things? Are you seriously asking me this question? Because both of these activities are critical to my fiendish plot to finally vanquish Stu. I can't believe that you wouldn't know this. Have you not read my manifesto?
