Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Abraham, Martin, and John, and Lassie, Uga, and Smokey

OK. I lied. There is not a single Abraham, Martin, or John in this blog. There's a Bob, though.

Because I woke up one morning last week, turned on the TV, and the lead news story - the lead one - was "Bob Barker Takes On Lassie." Now, we all know that Bob Barker is a big fellow in the "Be Kind to Animals" world (and kudos to him), and so I really wanted to see that particular match. However, I was running late, and the shower called, and I answered.

I didn't get to see it, but I did go into cnn.com later to read about the outcome. There wasn't an outcome, and the whole story was a bit of a fib. See, Bob is on opposing sides, over a state bill, with some actor from the old TV show. The article didn't even say which actor, but it said "Lassie's owner," so I'm assuming it was Tommy Rettig, Jon Provost, or June Lockhart.

And with that whole mess over, my mind drifted to other places. Mainly, the place where Bob Barker actually takes on Lassie. No, not some sort of man-dog boxing match, but just the idea of it. Because here's what I can't let go of.

Is there always a Lassie?

I mean, there was a Lassie when there was a TV show, and when any number of Lassie movies were out. But how about now? There are no Lassie projects on the horizon, not that I know of, anyway, so is there a Lassie? And where is he? (Lassie's always a boy, you know.)

I always imagine Lassie as living on a big farm, with lots of fields and white wooden fences. For some 60 years he's lived there, and when he gets the call from Hollywood he goes to his owner, barks a while, the owner says, "What? What, Lassie? Hollywood? They want to make a movie?" and then they're in the truck headed for the studio. If you happen to know how this actually works, please don't tell me. I like my version. Because it means there's always a Lassie.

As untrue as it may be. For it could be that there's a big farm (come on, Lassie has to live on a farm), and it's filled with hundreds of collie dogs that all look exactly alike. And when Hollywood calls a person actually answers the phone. And he says, "What? What? Hollywood? They want to make a movie?" and then he goes outside and looks over the collies, picks out the fittest looking one on that day, and they're in the truck headed for the studio. Which means there's not always a Lassie, just a bunch of collie dogs running around in a field.

Now, I happen to know that there's always an Uga. Uga is the slobbering, panting ball of love and happiness also known as my my favorite college mascot, the University of Georgia bulldog. I know there's always an Uga because I saw a television program about him once. At that point, and it was more than several years ago, they were on Uga IV, the fourth generation of the same white bulldog family that produces the Chosen Doggie. Uga lives like a king. Whether it's football season or not, he's got his own family, a nice suburban home, a fancy bed, his red t-shirt, and he walks around like he owns Georgia. He gets free medical care at the University of Georgia animal hospital, and let me tell you, it's better care than you or I get. According to wikipedia, they're now on Uga VI, but there's always been one. He's always there. If you want to drive down south and be snotted upon by Uga at any given time, get in your car and go.

Uga also has his own air conditioned dog house, since bulldogs apparently don't take heat well, and we all know how hot it gets in Athens, Georgia on a Saturday afternoon. And this little tidbit of information brings us to Smokey. No, not Smokey (or The SmokeDog), the pug owned by my friend, workmate, and mother figure San, but Smokey, the mascot of the University of Tennessee.

Smokey is a hound dog, which makes sense, and I'm not so fond of him as I am Uga, mainly because I hate the University of Tennesee. They sport a terribly sickly color of orange, their endzones are checkerboarded, and their fight song is "Rocky Top." I mean, what's to like? (Sorry, Dr SaraBeth, I know you just got your Ph.D there, and though I love you dearly, I mean, it's the University of Tennesee.) Anyway, I've nothing personal against Smokey, because he's of of the canine persuasion, and you just can't argue with doggie eyes and a wet nose.

However, I have a former workmate who attended a UT football game years ago, and came back to tell the story that it was so hot at the game, Smokey actually fainted. Apparently it was quite the happening, and much wringing of hands and oohing and ahhing took place before he was revived. And then came the collective sigh of 102,000 people.

Anyway, according to wikipedia again (where it mentions Smokey's little fainting spell), they're now on Smokey IX, so there's always a Smokey, even though on that dark day a while back there almost wasn't.

I hope this is the case with Lassie. Well, not the fainting, but that there's always a Lassie, and sometime, when you least expect it, you may see him on the toy aisle at the local Petsmart. Or in the drive-thru at the bank, cashing a risidual check and getting a milk bone from the teller.

Speaking of college mascots, I was at the Sugar Bowl a while back, and the Hokie Bird was almost killed by Bevo, the mascot from the University of Texas. Bevo the steer caught sight of the Hokie Bird, and began snorting and stomping and waving his horns around. He just about got free of his handlers. So even though the Hokie Bird's just foam rubber and feathers, he almost ceased to exist once. As did the person in his costume.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners. So, what did I throw away when cleaning out The Beast?
- Honorable Mention goes to Michelle, with her, "Folded Apron, Rancid, Eggy, Nasty." Michelle's obviously seen my Sauerkraut Band apron. Unfortunately, it's the only one I have so I couldn't throw it out. But it's back there, in The Beast, waiting to be worn.
- Runner-Up goes to LilyG, with her, " Fluffy argyle red earmuffs, natty."
- And this week's winner goes to the DeepFatFriar, with his "Fat Albert's red ermine negligee." I don't think I could wear Annette's.
- Thanks to all who played! You've all done very well!

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5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I would have said you threw away :

"Forgotten about, ripped, elastic nylons"

6:52 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sorry, I didn't really want to be annonymous and make more posts than necessary as I learned how to do it.

And so,

Would I have won?

7:01 PM  
Blogger Bet said...

Well, Yogi (be you bear or spiritual leader), you may well have placed on the winner's board, and you were almost right. I threw away 2 packages of empty nylons.

7:45 PM  
Blogger Duke said...

I lived in Knoxville from 1978 to 1991. I went to UT graduate school. Although I never attended a feetball game you can hardly keep from being impacted. A small game turnout is 110,000. No one up there understands the game or even watches it. They come drunk and just stagger around 4 hours. After it's over they don't even know who won.

Smokey is without a doubt the most pitiful mascot around. He looks like dead lice is dropping off him. Why they think a ratty old coon hound is the best fit for UT is beyond me.

10:28 PM  
Blogger stennie said...

I'm glad you didn't throw away any pairs of full nylons.

9:51 PM  

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