Ode to Johnny Carson and to the Largest Chicken in Pennsylvania

Tchaikovsky Sounds Funny

First, I am sad that Johnny Carson has died. We shared the same birth date. Which really confuses some people who then tell me I look good for my age. Of course, they then insult me my stating I look at least a good 10 years younger than Johnny Carson. No, we shared the same birth date: October 23. When I was born, most parents state they want their children to grow up and become President. Not mine. My parents wanted me to grow up and become like Johnny Carson. Which was really strange, because when I was born, Johnny Carson was a struggling actor.

I have disturbing news as a follow-up on one of my earlier postings. I wrote wondering why the cage for the Largest Chicken at the State Fair was empty. A week later, it was reported in the press that the chicken was missing. What makes me wonder: it took a week for someone to figure this out? Hopefully, they will discover a tunnel made by little claws leaving out of the Farm Show. Unfortunately, it appears someone stole the largest chicken in Pennsylvania. Which leads me to ask: how does someone steal a chicken? I guess maybe carrying around a chicken, it is possible to blend into a crowd of people and animals and baby carriages. Maybe they put the chicken in one of those baby carriages. Actually, I thought I saw some babies that looked like chickens.

This alert is issued to my readers in the general Pennsylvania area: If you see the largest chicken in the state running down the street, report this immediately to the proper authorities. Similarly, if you order fried chicken and you receive the largest fried chicken you’ve ever seen…

Did you hear about the new Airbus, which is the largest passenger airplane ever? They say, by the time you find your seat, it’s time to deplane.

I remember living in Philadelphia across from a parochial school with some name like Our Sisters of Perpetual Sorrow. I always wondered: who would send their daughter to such a school? Just the name makes me fear it is not a positive, encouraging environment. All I know is the darling angels of that school would smoke cigarettes behind my building. I guess there was no enough perpetual sorrow to keep them from smoking.

Johnny Carson was a smoker, and it is believd his habit contributed to his death. Too many people could have been with us longer is it wasn’t for this addictive habit. Thank you, Johnny, for the joy you brought to us. To readers who smoke, try and quit. May your sorrows never be perpetual.