Entry tags:
for Shep fans
.
"Excelsior, you fathead!"
One of radio god Jean Shepherd's verbal tchotchkes was the "brass figligee with oak-leaf clusters" (spelling taken from a book about him). I've never heard anyone say where that came from. And now I don't have to, because I saw. This Smokey Stover Sunday page not only has, in the last panel, the words "phippled figliggies," but has an arrow going from those words to some small, enigmatic objects that must just be figliggies. Phippled, no less.
This ought to get me that Pulitzer.
edited for metallurgic reasons
.
"Excelsior, you fathead!"
One of radio god Jean Shepherd's verbal tchotchkes was the "brass figligee with oak-leaf clusters" (spelling taken from a book about him). I've never heard anyone say where that came from. And now I don't have to, because I saw. This Smokey Stover Sunday page not only has, in the last panel, the words "phippled figliggies," but has an arrow going from those words to some small, enigmatic objects that must just be figliggies. Phippled, no less.
This ought to get me that Pulitzer.
edited for metallurgic reasons
.
no subject
no subject
ACK! I said bronze? They're brass. BRASS. Must edit.
ed: [*Okay, maybe on Usenet.]
no subject
no subject
Anyway, good hunting.
no subject
no subject
However, those who cannot be at peace with this ambiguity should not have become Smokey Stover readers, I suppose. Notary sojac, dude.
Once upon an evening (have I told you this before?) I sat backstage, twiddling my mixer for the college radio station, and watched Jean Shepherd hold an audience in the palm of his hand. He played them like a fine instrument. He could draw a tiny chuckle, or build to a crescendo of hysterical laughter.
I decided that night that I wanted to be a monologist when I grew up.
This did not quite occur. I do tell a story now and then.
no subject
I don't think you told me that one before. I have friends who will envy you if I remember to tell them about it. Me too.
no subject