Sybil Bruncheon's A Tale for Thanksgiving Time: "SUBURBAN STORIES THAT STUN AND STUPEFY"...

TODAY IN THE NEWS!..... The warning signs had been there for several months. Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively of 1148 Pembroke Lane had complained to her neighbors of strange voices, coming at first from the telephone, the radio, the television where it seemed strange voices always might have been heard. Indeed, "Ruthie", as she was known to all the Girl Scout Troop mothers, had been known for her quick wit, her sparkling sense of humor, her quirky imagination, and for her desire to be a stand-up comedian in local clubs "once the kids have grown up" as she put it. She even managed a couple of tentative debuts at the local Kiwanis and Shriner's clubs where her little act was described by the local critics as "refreshing"....and "a charming bit of whimsical and timely fluff filled with social commentary and some recipes".

Perhaps it was no surprise when Mrs. Snively began to exhibit eccentricities like a growing diet of Hostess Ding Dongs, Pringles Potato Chips, and vegan "beef" jerky. Frequently, she would answer her front door with facial masks of Marshmallow Fluff and Peter Pan Extra-Crunchy Peanut Butter. Her dependence on increasing dosages of St. Joseph's Aspirin for Children did not go unnoticed at PTA meetings...And on weekends, she could be found incoherent in back alleyways completely drunk on cocktails of Tang ....and Woolite....and Maraschino cherries. After her husband Arthur left her taking the children to Chillicothe, her friends tried interventions and enlisting the aid of the Come To Jesus Society Of Sobriety down on Walnut Street... but nothing worked.

It was finally on that terrible day in January when Snively wandered into her kitchen and overheard all her appliances talking behind her back. Oh yes!..They quickly smiled and pretended to change the subject, but it was too late. She had heard the worst!...and the jokes at her expense.... comments about "that tired old apron", and her "water-weight gain after the Holidays".....It was all too much! TOO MUCH!...and so, lovely, sweet, witty Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively calmly went to her former friend the Sunbeam waffle maker, laid her perfectly coiffed head down on its non-stick surface, and slowly pressed herself into a fluffy breakfast treat for the police to find later in the afternoon. Her suicide note was found on the counter beside an unopened bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's and a virgin stick of Land 'O' Lakes lightly salted butter. (You know Land 'O' Lakes? The one with the Indian maiden on the front whose knees look like breasts??)

Well, Ruth is now being treated for first degree burns and minor cheek-dimpling at Flower Of Mercy Hospital downtown, and will be receiving a lovely re-contouring of her complexion while being housed in their newly opened Extreme Neurosis Wing. She's slowly being re-acclimated to Kitchen Chore duty.... but under strict (and loving!) supervision.... (she continues to wear earplugs to ...shut out.. "unwelcome" chatter"...)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Strange Stories From Suburbia"…

… it had been a fairly mild Summer… well, until that final week of July and the beginning of August when the "weather gods" decided that it was time to get down to business. The air thickened and thickened day by day until even the nights were fog-bound, but with steam!!!… heavy rolling steam which clung to one's clothes and lungs like a suffocating blanket. Literally, it was hard to breathe, even if you tried to cool off with a midnight stroll by the water's edge at the ocean. There was no breeze, no air, no relief, no escape!!… well, unless you escaped inside your own mind…

Is that what Miss Polly Bernbundle did? Such a polite and responsible young lady…until the neighbors reported that in full view of little Stacy Plunkett's 8th birthday party, Polly decided to recite various passages from Edith Hamilton's famous Anthology of Greek & Roman Mythology. It wasn't just that she was reciting the stories, but that she was shrieking them at the top of her lungs as if she was the Oracle at Delphi… long, strident and stentorian tones bellowed out over the white picket fence through which all thirty-seven of the children and their stunned parents stared. And then, then the biggest shock of all! Miss Bernbundle decided that it would be most effective (and educational!) if she re-enacted each myth in full… beginning with the "Birth of Aphrodite"… and it only involved the garden hose and the small wading pool she had gotten for Mr. Rollo, her Jack Russell terrier who barked incessantly as she "rose from the waves"…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Our Thanksgiving Heritage!... Pilgrims & Pageants in Perrysburg"...

Boys and Girls, some of the best things of the Holiday season are the school plays that young people produce for their parents and teachers in small towns all over our wonderful country. Over the years, I have been so pleased to see many of them; one of them remains permanently... um... etched into my mind. I was on a dinner theatre tour of THE INCREDIBLY LOVELY AND WITTY WOMAN WHO CAME TO DINNER (a rewritten play by an ex-boyfriend of mine and his gay pal!), and I happened to be in a charming little town named Perrysburg for Thanksgiving. The Mayor generously invited the entire cast both to his holiday dinner and the theatre afterwards at the local high school! The title of the play was OUR PILGRIM FOREFATHERS & THEIR FRIENDLY INDIAN RECEPTION IN THE NEW WORLD.

The audience settled into their seats, reading and ruffling their mimeographed programs with the loose staples but the Heavenly smell! (oops!... have I said something?!) And after some light chatter and hellos, the lights came down in the Wilbur & Orville Wright auditorium, and the overture began. Well, it wasn't quite an overture... more like rhythmic and fairly emphatic drumming and some flute-tooting and dried gourd shaking. Suddenly from both sides of the stage, several young men "dressed" as "Indians" came out dancing, whooping, and jumping about which soon became very feverish, and, if I may say so, very athletic. The lighting became very orange and flickered as if perhaps this tribal ceremony was being lit by a huge camp fire (very clever as we audience members nodded and whispered appreciatively!), and then the Indians began to wrestle each other and throw each other about. The actors began to perspire heavily, and really conveyed the earnestness of their commitment to the roles they had taken on. Round and round the Indians swirled, screeching and bellowing, and even charging audience members in the front rows and up and down the aisles. Ladies in the audience and gentlemen of sensitive natures pulled out hankies or kleenex tissues to fan themselves. This whole tumultuous scene continued on for about 30 minutes or so, building to a crashing, screeching, sweating, drumming, fluting, gourding crescendo!!... and then... BLACKOUT!

The florescent auditorium lights came up, and the entire cast of young men strode out on stage for a curtain call. They bowed, smiling to the polite, friendly, but somewhat bewildered applause. And they were given 2 1/2 curtain calls, before the curtain finally came down. The Mayor and his wife, along with the Town Council members were very proud of the pageant and were eager to hear our "Big City" opinions of their local artistry. We, of course, were generous in our praise and even went backstage to shake hands with the cast. Then it was off to after-theatre drinks and a light dessert before we returned to The Commodore Perry Hotel.

I shall never forget how we cast members gathered in the morning to chat over breakfast... and the questions! Where were the Pilgrims? At what point was the "the friendly reception" or indeed any evidence of "the new world"? Was the tribe that first met the Pilgrims completely devoid of any female members?... or had they died in some terrible catastrophe? Our stage manager asked where was the scenery? There hadn't been a teepee, a wigwam, a birch bark canoe, or even a birch tree. And Mrs. Carruthers, our wardrobe lady, mentioned that she never saw a moccasin, a headdress, or even a single feather... "Not even war paint!!"... and we all had to agree!

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Sybil Bruncheon's A Tale for Thanksgiving Time: "SUBURBAN STORIES THAT STUN AND STUPEFY"...

The warning signs had been there for several months. Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively of 1148 Pembroke Lane had complained to her neighbors of strange voices, coming at first from the telephone, the radio, the television where it seemed strange voices always might have been heard. Indeed, "Ruthie", as she was known to all the Girl Scout Troop mothers, had been known for her quick wit, her sparkling sense of humor, her quirky imagination, and for her desire to be a stand-up comedian in local clubs "once the kids have grown up" as she put it. She even managed a couple of tentative debuts at the local Kiwanis and Shriner's clubs where her little act was described by the local critics as "refreshing"....and "a charming bit of whimsical and timely fluff filled with social commentary and some recipes".

Perhaps it was no surprise when Mrs. Snively began to exhibit eccentricities like a growing diet of Hostess Ding Dongs, Pringles Potato Chips, and vegan "beef" jerky. Frequently, she would answer her front door with facial masks of Marshmallow Fluff and Peter Pan Extra-Crunchy Peanut Butter. Her dependence on increasing dosages of St. Joseph's Aspirin for Children did not go unnoticed at PTA meetings...And on weekends, she could be found incoherent in back alleyways completely drunk on cocktails of Tang ....and Woolite....and Maraschino cherries. After her husband Arthur left her taking the children to Chillicothe, her friends tried interventions and enlisting the aid of the Come To Jesus Society Of Sobriety down on Walnut Street... but nothing worked.

It was finally on that terrible day in January when Snively wandered into her kitchen and overheard all her appliances talking behind her back. Oh yes!..They quickly smiled and pretended to change the subject, but it was too late. She had heard the worst!...and the jokes at her expense.... comments about "that tired old apron", and her "water-weight gain after the Holidays".....It was all too much! TOO MUCH!...and so, lovely, sweet, witty Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively calmly went to her former friend the Sunbeam waffle maker, laid her perfectly coiffed head down on its non-stick surface, and slowly pressed herself into a fluffy breakfast treat for the police to find later in the afternoon. Her suicide note was found on the counter beside an unopened bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's and a virgin stick of Land 'O' Lakes lightly salted butter. (You know Land 'O' Lakes? The one with the Indian maiden on the front whose knees look like breasts??)

Well, Ruth is now being treated for first degree burns and minor cheek-dimpling at Flower Of Mercy Hospital downtown, and will be receiving a lovely re-contouring of her complexion while being housed in their newly opened Extreme Neurosis Wing. She's slowly being re-acclimated to Kitchen Chore duty.... but under strict (and loving!) supervision.... (she continues to wear earplugs to ...shut out.. "unwelcome" chatter"...)

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]