I’m guessing my Uncle Mort’s forward thinking for the new year more likely is akin to slumgullion stew, or simply a hodge-podge of thoughts he’s carried forward to the new year.
His ideas are a mish-mash of miscellaneous ingredients rolled together, some of ’em dating back a half-century or so. Included in the current mulling of my 101-year-old kin are truths, half-truths, what he’s heard, what he thinks he’s heard, and hoopla about government health insurance.
Altogether, they are light years away from reality. Slumgullion fits about as well as anything. Again this year, truth is stranger than fiction, and it’s growing ever tougher to tell ’em apart.
Mort believes the fraud who was passing himself off as a hand-signer for the deaf at the Mandela funeral may deserve the prize for most convincing.
“Millions believed he was ‘true-ern blue,” Mort claims. “Turns out, his left hand didn’t know what his right was doing, and vice versa. He was mighty convincing, though, so surely there’s a spot for him in the front office of the Dallas Cowboys.”
He compared the signer with a TV wrestling showman from the 1950s called “Gorgeous George.” Mort claims the late wrestler was as handy with clever lines as the signer was with hand motions. GG, his carefully-coiffed dyed blond locks always in place and glitzy well before Liberace came along, claimed, “I don’t think I’m the best wrestler who ever lived. ... I don’t think I’m the most handsome man on the planet. ... And I don’t think I’m the smartest man who ever lived — BUT, what’s my opinion against millions of others?”
On a dime — the coin on which Uncle Mort always turns — he asked me if I knew how he could contact the ad people at “Duck Dynasty.” I suggested that he try Googling them. (He probably thought my wife and I visited their place during a recent visit to Louisiana.)