That’s the Ticket!

Last night, the better half and I went to pick up a prescription at the local pharmacy. I should have known better than to arrive at around six with the hopes of getting back home in a short amount of time. During the wait, a couple of people came to spend time in the line for their purchase – a small, older woman and an overweight know-it-all who regaled the older woman with fantastic stories about how well connected he was.

Just overhearing the man (he was loud as well as obnoxious – couldn’t help but to overhear him), I came to think that the stories he told should be taken with a pillar of salt. He reminded me of the Jon Lovitz character, the pathological liar. Yeah! That’s the ticket!

I’ve run into the type most of my life. Worked with (or for) a few. Not that I haven’t told a tall tale or two in my life. We all have from time to time. It’s just that sometimes the stories get out of hand.

I recall a snowy day at one place I worked when the boss requested that they let him know when the snow was ten-inches deep so that he could go out and measure it. There was a peer who constantly bragged about what he did before we knew him. After graduation, we never heard from him again except to hear that he had joined the Navy. I’ve always surmised that his shipmates might have grown tired of his constant bragging, saw to it that he took a walk off deck and didn’t bother to report his going overboard until three days later. I doubt that it really happened, but, it make for a good story.

One fellow I really liked listening to was a co-worker from southern Ohio who came up with some fairly credible stories. He was a natural.

One day he started spinning a tale about a neighbor who somehow or another managed to bathe the cat. Instead of going the conventional route of using towels to dry off the creature, they decided to put the cat in the microwave with the predictable, unfortunate ending. No, it didn’t happen. It was one of those “Urban Legends” involving a “Friend of a Friend.” Still, the story was entertaining. Cruel, but entertaining.

Another story he told might be true, as it involves Paul Williams, the singer, actor, and songwriter who recently celebrated a birthday (his 82nd on September 19th). According to the story, Williams’ father worked at a government atomic plant in Piketon Ohio and lived in Portsmouth when the younger Mr. Williams graduated from high school. The story is somewhat credible, considering that construction of the plant required tons of people to build it. Skilled tradesmen were likely in strong demand with not enough local laborers to do the job. It might well be that the senior Mr. Williams would have traveled with his family to live in Portsmouth while working on the project. I’ll leave the story at that.

Perhaps Portsmouth High School has Mr. Williams in its hall of fame. Two of Portsmouth’s more famous sons are celebrated on murals on the floodwall (Branch Rickey and Roy Rogers). Portsmouth’s claim to fame as one of the first NFL teams is evident as Portsmouth Trojans stadium, built for the pro team still stands today… the oldest NFL stadium still standing. The Trojans, by the way, played for just a few seasons before being purchased and moved to Detroit – becoming the Detroit Lions.

Something I’ve maintained is that sometimes stretching the boundaries just a bit for the sake of a good story is acceptable. Just as long as the story isn’t too outlandish!

Happy Trails – er – Be Seeing You!

(Photo taken by the author at the Portsmouth Ohio floodwall. Thanks to Jim Patterson for his company on the day this was taken.)