So Long, Farewell, auf Wiedersehen, Good Riddance
March 17, 2013 § Leave a comment
SX$#@&*;-)! — like a bad case of hemorrhoids — is finally over, and already my mood is soaring to the point of jocularity. So here are some hoary 1870s-1890s Austin jokes. The first one is dedicated to all of our departing SX friends. And don’t let the screen door hit you on your way out. See y’all next year, disfortunately.
G. C. Clark, a musician, committed suicide at Dallas. He shot himself there that he might have the most pleasure in leaving Texas.
Two young men from the hill regions above Austin came out of a certain fashionable hotel when one remarked, “That was the best cold soup I ever tasted,” when his companion, better heeled in city life, remarked that it was ice cream.
We have a few roaches around in our office that strayed over from a boarding house. They are old and industrious, only sleeping a half hour at noon. They are so well trained that every time we ring up the telephone they rush in, thinking it is the dinner bells. Samples furnished free, by sending two three-cent stamps. They make fine mince pies; are frequently used in the hotels and boarding houses for flavoring hash; and, being about the color of preserves and dried apples, they make an excellent mixture for these delicacies. Used in this manner, they make such sweet meats go further with boarders and are used now by hotels and boarding houses everywhere.
The bedbug season is drawing night and the boarders are beginning to select the top of the awnings and house tops on which to sleep.
The festive cockroach, a most amusing “cuss” of the summer season, is slowly retiring from business and is hunting warmer quarters. The cimex lectularius and the mosquito yet remain as lingering visitors.
VERY WISE GIRL.
Small Boy — “Pa, I know why sister wants electric lights in the parlor.”
Pa — “Why?”
Small Boy — “I heard her tell that fellow, Tilly Dickson, that when the electric lights were put in he could stay longer of nights ’cause you’n ma couldn’t tell by seeing how low the oil was in the lamps the next morning.”
Austin Gas Joke.
“Sirenda,” said Col. S. Mutchkin, last night, “why don’t you turn the gas up so it will give a light?”
“Why, papa, every blessed burner in the house is lighted and turned on full.”
“Ah! So it is, my dear; I hadn’t observed. Then light a candle and bring it here, so that I can see the figure in this gas bill the man left to-day.”
It Wasn’t Gas.
Mr. Swigwell went home last night and saw an unusually brilliant flood of light in the parlor, and said to his daughter:
“Starchina, why did you light so many gas jets in the parlor? And how did you get it to burn so brightly tonight? I never saw it so bright before.”
“Why, pa,” answered the beautiful Starchina Swigwell, “I never lighted the gas. That’s the moon shining through the east window I opened.”
“Well, I thought it strange that our gas had begun to make so much light.”
A Bull Creek girl went into a drug store to buy some taffy-tolu chewing gum. The clerk, trying to be sociable, remarked to her, “It’s a pretty warm day.” “You beecher life,” she explained, “I heered it was 200 degrees below zero.”
The lah-de-dah cigarette smoking young man is affectionately referred to by the Cleveland Leader as “third class male matter.”
“Where are you going, anyhow?” asked an irate conductor on the Central the other day of a “beat” whom he had kicked off five or six times, but who always managed to get on again just as the train started. “Well,” said the fellow quietly, “I’m going to Austin, if my pants hold out.”
A story is told of a fellow who upon learning that Major Penn the evangelist was about to leave San Antonio, inquired whither he was going?
The major replied:
“Well sir, I am going to heaven. I’ve been on the way a long time. Don’t you want to go?”
“No sir, if you’ve been a long time on the road to heaven and not got any further’n Santone, I think you’d better give up the trip, pard, and stop awhile with us.”
Tendered to Camp Jag by the C.C.C.C.O.
W. Moses, Maitre d’Hotel. Prince Lewis, Chef; Sam Posey, Asst.
Old Crow from bottle, Water by Drake
Bean Consumme a la Vance,
Old Crow Sour Mash.
FISH. Trout, caught by a silver bait by Rossiter,
Eels, speared by Manning Brown, Old Crow Long Toddy.
ENTREES. Cotton Tail Rabbit au Willie West’s shot gun,
Broiled Bacon a la Moses,
Chicken fricassee, Roosted by Hutchings, Old Crow Short Toddy.
Irish Potatoes, Paddy Malven Style,
Roasting Ears, fresh from field, by Malcom Graham,
Fried Onions in Rose water, Oliver Brush,
Old Crow Toddy.
DESSERT. Ice Cold Melons, scooped by Drake,
Dried Apple Short Cake au Honey, Jim Smith,
Toddy, Coffee, Tea, Water.
Farewell Speeches and Toasts.
PS: Media coverage of SXSW is almost totally hugs and wet, sloppy kisses, with the occasional acknowledgment about many attendees not being to see desired bands.
But on Monday morning, as the aftermath cleanup began, the Austin American Statesman, to its credit, called attention to the black-and-blue side of the event. Paramedics had their busiest night of festival Saturday, responding to 88 emergency calls in the downtown area that included auto-pedicab crashes, fights and drunk people needing medical attention.
Between 3 p.m. Saturday and about 3 a.m. Sunday, Austin-Travis County Emergency Medical Services reported that it took 39 people to area hospitals.
Based on Friday’s high call volume of 72 incidents and taking 47 people to hospitals, EMS put another ambulance into service on Saturday night.
Even with insurance, a visit to a local emergency room will set you back at least $600 and up to a six-hour wait for medical attention on a busy night. Well, at least no one got killed this year.