Just one little story comes to mind tonight… an old memory really… of someone I met a long time ago.

Yes, the story of this guy I once knew.  His name was Hugh MacTaggart.  And this guy was a mean son of a gun.

Okay…. side bar.  Where in the heck did that phrase come from… “Son of a Gun?”  What the heck is that anyway?  Guns don’t have babies….. let alone sons.  Well, as it turns out… this phrase started a long time ago (1700s) with the British. (Of course I had to look it up!)   It means that a child has… shall we say… questionable parentage. It refers to the possibility that the child was conceived on the gun deck of a ship.

Dang it… another segue.  Did you know that Colonels don’t carry guns?  Nope they don’t.  Colonels don’t carry guns because packing heat could cause them to pop.  Get it. Colonel.  Heat.  Pop.  Argggghhhhh.  (Okay.  There is something terribly wrong with me tonight.)

I can get SO off track sometimes.    Where was I?  Oh.  Hugh MacTaggart.  He was a horrid man.  Vile.  Odious.  Stinky.  MacTaggart was  so mean that he’d throw a drowning man both ends of the rope.  Yep, he was so nasty that once….  he  was engaged to a girl with a wooden leg…..  but he got mad and broke it off.  This guy was bad news, I’m telling you.

At any rate, he told me a story once, when we were bellied up to the Soda Fountain Counter at Woolworth’s.  Well it was a little stronger than that actually.  For those of you born after the Soda Fountain…. I’ll put it in other words.

Me and Hugh were drinking at a bar.  Not me and you.  Hugh.  Oh whatever.  Back to his story:

He told me about this incident that happened when he lived in Europe.  There was an Order of Friars there.  I believe they were Franciscan.   I guess these friars were behind on their belfry payments.  So they decided to open up a small florist shop to raise funds.

The little flower shop did quite well.  It seems that  everyone liked to buy flowers from the men of God.  Well…. as it happened…. a rival florist across town thought the competition was unfair. He asked the good fathers to close down, but they would not. I mean… dang… they were doing good.  They had plenty of money for rent, and  were saving to buy new rope sashes for their brown-hoodie-dressy-things.

So the rival Florist, Bob the Flower Guy…. he went back and begged the friars to close. They ignored him once again.   So, the rival florist hired my friend, Hugh MacTaggart, who…. was known as….the roughest and most vicious thug in town.  Bad Dude.

Bob the Florist asked MacTaggart to “persuade” them to close. So….. Hugh beat up the friars and trashed their store, saying he’d be back if they didn’t close up shop.

Well.  This scared the sandals right off the friars feet.  Terrified, they
did as he asked….   thereby proving that Only Hugh Can Prevent Florist Friars.

Okay… that was possibly unforgivable on my part.  I think I’m all hopped up on caffeine or something tonight.  But just remember… I do this because I like you… and I am trying to help people live stronger lives…..

Because……

Seven days without a pun makes one weak.

And finally…. a photographer’s favorite quote…..

“Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just don’t have any film.” – Unknown