Product Description
2012
Mabel’s Elephant
It’s 2012, and an election year in America. We’ll be exposed to a sideshow as we choose between the guy with the most money versus the guy with the best looks and maybe the hottest VP candidate. Then after November 4th the lies are packed away until four years later.
However bad you think it is, it’s not nearly as bad as it is for poor Mabel and Harold Singer. An Elelphant might be delivered to the White House, but at least it won’t be delivered to your living room. And if it is, you have every right to protest such action as vigorously as possible without the fear of lobotomy or other weird punishments
Mabel Singer has an elephant in her house. Two if you count her husband. Mabel tells her story in her shrill nervous tone to a “friend” who has come to visit and has brought a very unusual casserole. A postal employee of the government knocked on their door one day and demanded that Harold Singer take delivery of the elephant that Pakistan has sent erroneously to the wrong address. Harold insisted that his house was not the zoo. The postal employee insisted that he must deliver the elephant to the address attached to the animal or all will suffer grave consequences. Harry refused to accept the elephant and was hauled off for questioning by the three judges. They passed the ultimate sentence on Harry. This tale with Orwellian overtones will keep you in stitches.
Excerpt:
I liked it much better when we were simply 1121 Lincoln, Indianapolis Indiana, 60059. But you know, government efficiency comes first.
Harry said to the man, “Does this look like a zoo? This is a duplex house assigned to me by the government.”
The postman insisted it was his sworn duty to leave packages at the correct address. And he again pointed to the tag on the elephant’s rump and the one above our door. The man thrust the pen into Harry’s hand for him to sign for the elephant. Harry of course, being as clever as he is--well was, pointed out to the postman that the elephant being so large and unruly, might damage the house and lawn, and in effect would be damaging government property, and he the postman could get into serious trouble. The elephant had already yanked a hedge by the roots and was shaking it like something mad.
That’s a good point, Sue. If we aren’t allowed to have cats and dogs, why on earth would anyone send us an elephant? It should not have been delivered to our house. Harry and I didn’t think of that argument. Anyway the postman--he was Negroid--wrinkled his narrow forehead and thought for a moment. I thought Harry had got him. But I guess this fellow was full of mother wit and he pointed out to Harry that the elephant was addressed to ZOO, 1121 Lincoln, you know, Kwadrant blah blah blah blah. And since he the postman was acting in the capacity of deliverer, the elephant was the responsibility of the receiver. There was no way in hell, he said, he could get into trouble if the elephant damaged government property. Even the elephant had to raise his trunk and trumpet at this line of reasoning. Then Harry turned to me.
“Mable, did you order this damned thing?” He was so angry he looked cross-eyed.
Me, being the cautious one said rather timidly that I did not order the elephant, but would be glad to keep him when Harry abruptly cut me off.
“There, my wife did not order the elephant and I did not order him ... No I don’t care what the address says. You have made a mistake. No I am not speaking against the government. I am simply saying, Mister… "
The postman cut Harry off and asked him how in the world could he make a mistake when he had instructions to deliver all mail to its destination, and that the elephant’s tag said 1121 blah blah blah, and the address on the house was blah blah blah blah blah! I said to myself, there goes that darned mother wit again.
Mabel’s Elephant
It’s 2012, and an election year in America. We’ll be exposed to a sideshow as we choose between the guy with the most money versus the guy with the best looks and maybe the hottest VP candidate. Then after November 4th the lies are packed away until four years later.
However bad you think it is, it’s not nearly as bad as it is for poor Mabel and Harold Singer. An Elelphant might be delivered to the White House, but at least it won’t be delivered to your living room. And if it is, you have every right to protest such action as vigorously as possible without the fear of lobotomy or other weird punishments
Mabel Singer has an elephant in her house. Two if you count her husband. Mabel tells her story in her shrill nervous tone to a “friend” who has come to visit and has brought a very unusual casserole. A postal employee of the government knocked on their door one day and demanded that Harold Singer take delivery of the elephant that Pakistan has sent erroneously to the wrong address. Harold insisted that his house was not the zoo. The postal employee insisted that he must deliver the elephant to the address attached to the animal or all will suffer grave consequences. Harry refused to accept the elephant and was hauled off for questioning by the three judges. They passed the ultimate sentence on Harry. This tale with Orwellian overtones will keep you in stitches.
Excerpt:
I liked it much better when we were simply 1121 Lincoln, Indianapolis Indiana, 60059. But you know, government efficiency comes first.
Harry said to the man, “Does this look like a zoo? This is a duplex house assigned to me by the government.”
The postman insisted it was his sworn duty to leave packages at the correct address. And he again pointed to the tag on the elephant’s rump and the one above our door. The man thrust the pen into Harry’s hand for him to sign for the elephant. Harry of course, being as clever as he is--well was, pointed out to the postman that the elephant being so large and unruly, might damage the house and lawn, and in effect would be damaging government property, and he the postman could get into serious trouble. The elephant had already yanked a hedge by the roots and was shaking it like something mad.
That’s a good point, Sue. If we aren’t allowed to have cats and dogs, why on earth would anyone send us an elephant? It should not have been delivered to our house. Harry and I didn’t think of that argument. Anyway the postman--he was Negroid--wrinkled his narrow forehead and thought for a moment. I thought Harry had got him. But I guess this fellow was full of mother wit and he pointed out to Harry that the elephant was addressed to ZOO, 1121 Lincoln, you know, Kwadrant blah blah blah blah. And since he the postman was acting in the capacity of deliverer, the elephant was the responsibility of the receiver. There was no way in hell, he said, he could get into trouble if the elephant damaged government property. Even the elephant had to raise his trunk and trumpet at this line of reasoning. Then Harry turned to me.
“Mable, did you order this damned thing?” He was so angry he looked cross-eyed.
Me, being the cautious one said rather timidly that I did not order the elephant, but would be glad to keep him when Harry abruptly cut me off.
“There, my wife did not order the elephant and I did not order him ... No I don’t care what the address says. You have made a mistake. No I am not speaking against the government. I am simply saying, Mister… "
The postman cut Harry off and asked him how in the world could he make a mistake when he had instructions to deliver all mail to its destination, and that the elephant’s tag said 1121 blah blah blah, and the address on the house was blah blah blah blah blah! I said to myself, there goes that darned mother wit again.
