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[Tidbits] ANKUSH


#1

Hey! You! Yeah. you! Get outa the way. Beep beep your ass, pal. Hey!
How do you steer this thing? Go left. Go right. Go straight. Just go
dammit. Go go go.

The year: Now. The place: Any crowded city street. New York would be
fine. The price of gas: Ridiculous. The under stress: Not available
for discussion. The solution: Let me tell you.

Let’s pick a fictional character. Anybody. Man. Woman. Make your
choice. Benjamin, you say? Fine. Let’s begin.

Benjamin has always been a reasonable type. Pleasant. Mild mannered.
Well behaved. Polite. Never a harsh word. Never a mean spirit. But
one day Benjamin had had it. Enough was enough. A thirty minute ride
into the city was taking three hours. The ride back could be four.
Sixty to seventy bucks to fill the gas tank. There had to be a better
way.

Benjamin went straight to Google. "What can I use to replace my car?"
He clicked search. Some jerk replied: Get a Jackass. No good. Too
many of them on the road. How about a bike? Too flimsy. A motorcycle?
Fuggedaboudit. A horse perhaps? Nah. Too skittish in traffic. A
donkey? Too stubborn. A quick digression. Is it pronounced Dunkey or
Donkey? And if it’s Donkey. then is it also a Monkey. or is it a
Munkey? These are trying times dear souls.

Besides. none of the above seemed to fit the bill. He needed
something better. Something intimidating. Something formidable. He
began to scan the papers. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. The Post. The News.
The Times. The Senegalese Thunder-Digest. And there it was. In small
print in the middle of the classified. Upstate New York. In a little
town called Fleishmanns. For sale. Any offer acceptable. Her name is
Daisy. She’s an elephant.

Eureka! By Jove. He had it. Daisy was just what the doctor ordered.
Fuel? A bale of hay. A pail of water. And he was set. No need for a
saddle. He’d ride Daisy bareback. Traffic? Screw 'em. He’d have Daisy
step on the cars and squash them. Outa my way pal. Move it. Beep beep
your ass. Go left, Daisy. Go right.

Benjamin rented a u-haul and got Daisy that very day and stuck her in
his garage and gave her some grass. Grass. Hay. What difference? He
gave her some water. And the very next morning he took her out for a
spin.

And here lay the conundrum. How do you steer an elephant? There was
no steering wheel. There was no joy stick. Lean over and pull on a
tusk? No way. You could get killed. But Benjamin was no slouch. If he
was nothing … he was innovative. He was a fixer of problems. If an
elephant needed steering. he would figure out how to steer it.

Back to the books. He read here. He read there. And on a fluke. he
opened a book on jewelry. That’s right folks. Jewelry. And he found
it. An Ankush. An Elephant Goad. Dating back to the late 19th century
in Northern India. It was opulence at its finest. Made most assuredly
of gold though he wasn’t sure. Rows of diamonds set in a green
background.

A little tap here. a little tap there. and Daisy would know which way
to go. Outa my way Manhattan.Comin’ through pal. Move or you get
crushed. Hey buddy. you ever get stomped on by an elephant? Beep
beep. Giddyap Daisy!

So. you wanna see a diamond studded Elephant Goad? You should. You
never know when one day you’re going to wake up and be fed up with
the whole shebang. And the savings on gas is astronomical.

You know where. Home page: tyler-adam.com. Left hand menu. Click on
Tidbits.

And there ya have it. That’s it for this week folks.
Catch you all next week.
Benjamin Mark


#2

Benjamin,

What a great story ! What a great description of traffic in NY and
your language describing the frustrations, the dialects, delays, the
options, the garbage, the traffic, the lack of directions for
everything new. Please don’t ever stop writing.

A thousand thank yous for making me smile and smile and smile.

MA


#3

LOVE the story, Benjamin! Love the beautiful ankush, too. But all I
could think of was how much shoveling you’d have to do to clean out
your garage every morning. Not to mention that very tactile trunk.

Reminds me of the friends in Orlando who offered me their garage for
my (at that time) three Barb mares prior to one of the South Florida
hurricanes back in the mid 1990’s. I wasn’t concerned about the
manure so much as three veryinquisitive horses checking out
everything on every single shelf of that space. There’s a reason my
horses don’t have free range of my yard. Linda in central FL