And Gutenberg Lived Here: Of Pumpkins, Witches, And The Whole Nine Yards

When I decided to write on this topic,

I was thinking along the lines of:

Halloween.

Obviously.

It wasn’t until I saw it posted for today,

and read the comments,

that I saw the whole picture:

Of course.

The male female thing-

and the whole nine yards,

and this is the month of:

ta da

football.

And to anyone who doesn’t follow football-

not that Germany doesn’t follow American football-

hey, we have our very own team,

the Frankfurt Galaxies.

Complete with girls in super-skimpy silver costumes and…

hmm.

So whole nine yards,

as in “fourth down and nine yards to go”

(non-footballers: you have to throw or carry an egg-shaped pigskin ball-

with laces, no less,

ten yards in four tries-

being jumped on by men the size of restaurant-size refrigerators in the process-

or hand it over to the other team)

(And why anyone would want to to do that I haven’t a clue-

unless it has to do with pre-Christian fertility rites,

male bonding,

or perhaps even Mayan blood-letting hoop games,

where nowadays you take down the hoop-

because it interferes with the motor oil,

or hamburger-and-fries-based people oil,

ads?)

So anyway,

the whole nine yards taken care of,

(which phrase actually means,

“all of that, and the kitchen sink too”

and only really works with a New York accent)

what’s the thing about the witches?

And the pumpkins, for heavens’ sake.

Well,

there’s a great joke that my best best friend forever,

sorry, everyone over here quotes Paris Hilton-

and does the valley girl voice-

so anyway,

my Aussie best bud once told me a joke,

during one of the “colony treffs”-

our once a year meet and catch up

where we trapse the mean British streets,

scoff pinkish colored sweet stuff-

at the express wish of her husband,

a Welshman

who went to Kings College,

and is the one who made Laura Crofts wiggle,

much to the chagrin of his very feminist wife,

and …

who ADORES high tea…

So…

anyway…

to keep the men quiet,

we plunk ourselves down,

scoff,

and catch up.

Leaving the males to do bigger things-

like strings and quarks and donuts (and sombreros)

And, for anyone married to a mathematician, as BFF and I are,

you learn early to park them,

in twos.

So anyway,

during one of the scoff-colony-“What’s new in the language business” meets,

she told me a joke:

In the broadest Aussie accent she occasionally puts on because I love it so much,

“Why isn’t Cinderella any good at football-

Because her coach is a pumpkin.”

(Aussie for not particularly good at the job, among other things.)

So now that I have, with much derring do,

and prestedigitation,

done the great metonomical,

what, you caught that?

and linked girls in skimpy costumes, to football, high tea, Cinderella,

and…

gasp…

pumpkins…

so how about the witches?

Witches are female practitioners of wicca,

the “old (ie pagan) religion”

and I think I’ll just leave it at that.

Unless, of course,

it could be those dollies in the two small pieces of silver aluminum foil

who turn  the heads of every male in the Frankfurt stadium,

so they buy more beer and hotdogs,

and ignore their families,

or force the wives to go along to keep an eye on hubby,

now thoroughly enchanted by uttered incantations like

“go team”

Or maybe it’s someone

who has been conned into writing on witches and pumpkins

in January.

Can’t wait to see what the hint guys come up with for me to write on next week.

 

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