Regular readers of my Blog will testify I have an ardent, profound, and highly partial love affair with the state of Oklahoma. After the events of this morning I am taking a hard and reflective re-examination of my touting the virtues of this state.
Here's why:
In our neighborhood there are 6-8 banana trees, about 7 feet tall, growing in a man's yard. I stopped this morning to take a photo for my brother in Indiana. Just as I was about the click the shutter I heard "Hee-Hee-Hee -He" It was the unmistakable sound of the Tanzanian Low Land GO-rilla. (I've watch a lot of National Geographic's) Around the south side of the trees came a creature with long reddish brown hair. I could not make out any facial features. It was walking upright.
I hop in my old minivan and rush to the nearest convenience store to report my survival escape and to ask the owner to call the police.
The owner calmly asked how long I had lived in our community. I told him about 20 years. He said. "There ain't no GO-rillas here." I think he heard my sigh of relief.
He went on to say, "Every now and again you'll see a wild O-Rang-A- tang." That didn't help me one bit. I now was convinced that the creature I saw was a wild O-Rang-A-tang.
I got one of the guys that just hangs around this store to ride with me back to the banana trees. We found the home owner watering the trees. I retold my story and he started to laugh.
"That GO-rilla sound was me trying to start an old 150cc off road bike. The sound you heard was me beating on the head cylinder." I asked, "What was that reddish brown long haired creature?"
Through his almost uncontrolled laughter he said, "THAT GO-rilla was my wife's no account son Travis who came home from college to do his laundry!"
(Hopefully, you see this is a fictional account. The banana trees are true.)
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