THE CURIOUS CASE OF WALDRO THE WANDERING BEAR

A week went by with no word from Waldro, so I visited the local police station and filed a Missing Bears Report.  The desk officer was polite, but gently discouraged me from expecting too much help from the law. “After all, Mr. Bittmann, if we went searching for every runaway stuffed bear, we’d have no time for other law enforcement activities”

That’s when I decided to get Bob Lindquist on the job.  Bob had already proven his people finding capabilities, so I figured that locating a maroon and white bear with my name branded on his butt would be a piece of cake for Bob.. And sure enough, Bob got results.  He quickly traced Waldo to

  

NewarkAirport…but then the trail went cold.  During the days before Bob and Karen took off for their trip to Southeast Asia, Bob followed up on a series of rumored  Waldro sightings.  He might have been seen in Massachusetts, perhaps in GulfportMississippi,  maybe in Florida. 

Well, Thanksgiving came and went and I began to lose hope of ever seeing Waldro again.  By Christmas day I was resigned to the probability that Waldro had definitely left the building. It took three consecutive viewings of “A Christmas Story” to revive my spirits. Then, the day after Christmas, to cheer myself up I went bowling with a bunch of old fogies.  I bowled very well (although several of the fogies bowled better), and actually forgot about Waldro for a little while.

But there was no mail.

 

Instead I found Waldro, branded butt and all, comfortably seated on the dining room table.

Next to Waldro there was a note:

 

DEAR JON;

I’M SORRY I HAD TO SKIP OUT LIKE THAT.

DON'T BE MAD.

I HAD TO TAKE CARE OF SOME BUSINESS IN A HURRY.

BESIDES. ALL THOSE PEOPLE. ALL THAT NOISE. TOO MUCH.

I WANTED TO WRITE AND TELL YOU I WOULD BE BACK,

BUT YOU KNOW HOW IT IS. IF IT ISN'T ONE THING ITS ANOTHER.

ANYWAY I MET THIS REALLY CUTE CHICK. HERE'S A PICTURE

OF HER WHEN WE WENT ON THIS PICNIC. SHE SAYS SHE MIGHT

BE ABLE TO MEET US IN FLORIDA NEXT YEAR

SO HERE I AM. I’M BACK.

YOURS TRULY,

WALDRO, THE BITTMANN BEAR

 And so, two months after he took off to explore the world, Waldro is back in Leonia.  Everyone’s happy, our little family is once again whole, and all is forgiven. 

 

However, I’ve let Waldro know that by taking off during the Friday night mixer, he missed out on all the Saturday and Sunday reunion celebrations. Now he’s begging me to take him along to our 70^th Birthday Bash. 

 

 

We’ll see. What do you think?

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR

45 years ago (or so), the wonderful Allen Sherman introduced us to one of the funniest parody songs ever written.  Anyone who’s been to a summer camp recalls the delicious first-day agony of being abandoned by your folkds and left there  in the wilderness, surrounded by a bunch of kids you didn’t know (unless you were paired up with your whiny little brother or sister.)

“Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda,” captures that awful first day with a perfect set of lyrics.

Today, while summer camp may be just a misty memory, many of us are returning to a camp of sorts, and we’re doing so not just willingly, but joyfully.  They're called Adult Communities, but we know better.  They are summer camps, except you get to stay all year.  And the amenities are spectacular.  Instead of outhouses, you get a marble master bath with jacuzzi.  Instead of chipped beef on toast, there’s an Early Bird Special, complete with a glass of White Zinfandel and rice pudding for dessert.  Instead of counselors who harass you, you have Social Directors…who harass you.  Instead of an alligator-infested lake you have a beautiful pool.  And you also get a softball team, a bowling team, a tennis league and a weekly poker game.

Summer Camp was never like this.  

However, it was the memory of Allen Sherman that inspired me to write the following lyrics. If you’re not sure of the tune (I know all you Chansoneers will be able to sing it immediately), just go to YouTube and search “Allen Sherman.”  You’ll find several versions of the original song.  Then come back and take a shot at singing, “Hello Brudda, Hello Sista.”

Hello Brudda, Hello Sista

(Lyrics by Jon Bittmann who at the time was channeling Allen Sherman)

NOTE: This is a duet.  Rosary and I will be performing the song at the next monthly meeting of the Players Guild of Leonia, on Thursday, March 19.

(Harold and Sophie)

Hello Brudda

Hello Sista

Here we are at Rancho Vista

It’s a village that’s quite nifty

But to live here

you must both be over fifty

(Both)

Folks who flock here

are retired

But a few of

them got fired

When their corpor-ations downsized

And they found themselves

abruptly disenfranchised

(Sophie)

Even though we’re

rather new here

We’ve made friends and

quite a few here

There's the Ryans and the Mintzes

Sally Ryan

makes the most delicious blintzes

(Chorus-- Both)

Sell your home,

my darling Sista

Move down here

to Rancho Vista

Though your kids

may beg you please to stay

Just say

you’ve got to get away

(Harold)

Monday  Bowling

Tuesday  Sewing

Such a schedule she’s got going

Wednesday Cooking

Thursday Knitting

Friday Majhong

There’s just no time left for sitting

(Sophie)

Harold’s really

having fun, too

Always something

he must run to

Like the golf course,

it’s quite sporty

Just this morning

Harold shot a hundred forty.

(Both)

Don’t delay

my darling Sista

Make the move

to Rancho Vista

Though the kids

may beg you please to stay

Just say

now it’s your time to play

(Both)

Real nice people

here on Wickley

But my next door

neighbor’s sickley

Triple bypass,

hip replacement

Did I tell you that these homes

don’t have a basement?

(Both)

Wait a minute

Sirens wailing

CPR seems

to be failing

Hurry sista

There’s a vacancy at 47 Wickley

Monday 12/29/08

get here quickly



 

 I’ve posted the photo of Waldro and his new love on my profile page.  She’s quite a looker, a real southern belle with a killer smile. However, I’ve warned Waldro to keep a close eye on her, especially at meal time.