The following is a joke my oldest brother (now 62, closing in on 63 in a couple months) sent me. Further, his "first new car" (67 coupe with a 200 and three-speed) started on this long and never realized dream of me owning a Classic Stang. He also sold me my long-lost 351C Torino when he bought his second Stang - which just added to my misery. For those that might wonder where my left-field sense of humor originated, it's from him. Only a few of the "Classics" (most of you would call us "Old Farts") and maybe Chelle 'cause it's "sorta swing" can appreciate this - everybody else needs to do a Google on {song, Hokey Pokey} and listen to the music file. On to the joke: Sad News With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person, which almost went unnoticed last week. Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Pokey," died pacefully at age 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started. Shut up. You know it's funny.
I am probably younger than most that would remember that movie, being as it was made three years before I was born Our old hometown theater would show it during the summer after midnight. It was great, water guns, rice, newspaper hats, the whole bit.
One thing you need to realize is that he's nearly 20 years older than me! Yeah, same parents with kids 20 years apart. My dad was 26 when Art was born; almost 46 when I was born. I'll leave it to you to figure out in which manner (activity?) I want to be most like him!
