| Rod is suffering from something
called "walking pneumonia" and I'm sure you'll all join me in wishing him a
speedy recovery. Get well soon Rod, we all miss you! No
review of the 1998 Flight Plans would be complete without an appearance by that
controversial character, Swami Ravi Salami.
This was his first posting, September 18. Birthdays, as
usual, are current.
- Ken, Johannesburg, December 17
HELP! My Guru Died!
Well not really, but a long time ago [1971] I wrote a
little book for POP [the Put On Press] with the above title. No kidding. I can tell all
now, I did it under the pseudonym of Swami Rami Salami and it was translated from my
native sand script [not Sanskrit.] by Harry Krishna. The book consisted of questions and
answers. Thought you might enjoy reading a few of them on a Friday. Well, that and
I’ll do almost anything toward the weekend not to write an original flight plan. Here
Goes:
Q: My house burned down, I lost my job, my wife was run over, my kid is in jail. How can I
go on?
A: The insurance should help.
Q: I have acne. It’s confined to my nose.
A: Have you had your nose in somebody else’s business?
Q: I marched in a woman’s Lib parade and my boy friend
hasn’t spoken to me since.
A: Forget it. You’ll soon have three girl friends for every boy who’s turned you
down.
Q: What can I do with my sister?
A: With relaxation of state and national moral laws, almost anything.
Q: The kneeling benches in our church are full of
splinters. So are my panty hose.
A: Stand up for Jesus.
Q: I love my girl friend, but I keep getting this urge to
stab her foot with my Boy Scout knife.
A: See? Just like the scoutmaster said, that knife would come in handy one day.
Q: In school I have to write a paper on Moby Dick and I
can’t make any sense out of the silly book.
A: Well . . . it’s about this whale.
Q: My doctor says I should have one third of my stomach
removed or I will die. My faith does not allow surgery. What should I do?
A: Nothing. Time and your faith will take care of everything.
Q: I work in a mine 6 and a half days a week and get to sit
down on Sunday afternoons. Should I do the sitting in church, or do what I want to do
– stay home and soak my feet?
A: For the best of all possible worlds, take a bucket of water to church . . . or a Bible
to the bathtub.
Q: In a street riot last month, I threw a Molotov cocktail
that hit an old lady. Should I turn myself in?
A: Yes, into a human torch.
Q: My brother keeps putting his hand around my waist, you
know, in a funny place. P. S. I am a girl.
A: Either your brother has a large hand or you have a small waist.
Q: I have thirteen children and none of them send me
Christmas cards.
A: Are you Jewish?
Q: I have a neighbor who sneaks out at night after her
husband is asleep. Should I tell her about this?
A: Not while you’re making love.
Q: I try to run my house, raise my children, and give my
husband his beer and liverwurst. I also work 55 hours a week. Is it right that I feel
tired?
A: Camellias have died whilst we kneel by rosebuds to pray their bloom. (I don’t know
what the hell that means, but I thought I’d throw it in.)
Q: I am a young man and I seem to like boys better than
girls.
A: Everybody’s gotta be someplace.
Q: Hare Krishna.
A: Same to you, Buddy!
- From "Help! My Guru Died", 1971,
with new material 1998 |
