Welcome to my world - The world of Tish

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Rolled in cornmeal for your dining pleasure - Uncle Catfish

On highway 32, you'll see the same image every Saturday morning - a 1981 Moped will come into focus from about a mile out. At first, you'll think something's wrong with your vision because is it your imagination or is that a...no, it couldn't be. You look again, but it sure seems like that Moped driver has a... and then your suspicions are confirmed.

The man piloting the Moped has a CB antenna on the top of his helmet. The helmet is decorated with at least twenty reflective discs creating a colorful prism six feet in diameter around the rider on a sunny day. A personalized license plate reads "Catfish" on the front and a bumper sticker on the back "Honk if you love Fish".

Uncle Catfish is one of those fiddlers. Not the violin sort, but the take apart anything that has more than three parts and rebuild it to suit his fancy type of man. There was no project to big or small for Catfish. You see a delapidated school bus that belongs in the junkyard, he sees his next motorhome. Three months of tinkering produce a four bed and one bathroom home on wheels. Being sneaky, as most catfish are, he installed something to combat his redheaded wife's constant complaints that might shut her up forever.
The bathroom, a portapotty welded to the rear of the bus. Since the door was welded to the back of the bus for entry, the vent was converted to a miniblind window. Don't ask me why anyone would want a window on a portapotty on the back of a bus, but Catfish had a purpose. When the wife finished her litany of complaints regarding him, she headed off to the portapotty for her daily constitutional.
Imagine you are the car behind this monstrocity rolling down a major highway. In an instant, you are watching a red headed woman take a piss while reading a National Enquirer. In the side view mirror, you see the driver, an impish man with shocking white hair, smile.

Catfish escaped arrest once. He was caught by the Highway patrol feeding deer non-filtered Camel cigarettes while on vacation in a national park. His argument couldn't be disproved: "You cain't tell me that's not fiber for those deer." Hmm, a new use for tobacco? He could be onto something.

This concludes the Four Uncles and a Straight Jacket series. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Maybe I'll do an aunt version - now there's some crazy women. In the meantime, remember your family are the only ones that will hold your hair back when you are vomiting and tell you your butt is getting big.


  • In my town, I (the collective we) glimpse often a red head, childlike woman, wearing a helmet askew, on her Moped as well - I wonder if they are related somehow...

    By Blogger brendingo, at 10:41 AM  

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