More AZ Humor

Some 85% of the people in Arizona live in the greater Phoenix area
or Tucson.  Throw in cities like Flagstaff, Yuma, Sierra Vista and
Prescott and that leaves just a few people out there in towns like
Winslow, Willcox, Williams, Holbrook, Seligman and Ash Fork. The best
way I know how to tell a small town is: If you have an emergency you
step out on your front porch and holler, "911."  Everybody in town knows
who the father of the pups is. You can move across town and not have to
fill out a change of address form at the post office.  And everybody
knows who's checks are good and who's husbands aren't.
    My home town of Ash Fork smaller than most.  It was so small the
president of the local sports car club drove a Pinto.  We had to share
our one horse with another town.   We were also poor.  My fifth grade
teacher asked me one time, "If you had sixteen dollars and eighteen
cents in one pocket and thirty-two dollars and fourteen cents in the
other pocket, what would you have"?
    I said, "Somebody else's pants on."
    We used to get tamales at Christmas so we'd have something to
unwrap. Cattle rustlers used to leave cows at our ranches. The first
three years in Ash Fork we lived in a tiny two-room trailer house with a
lean-to attached.  We all slept in the same bed.  I never slept alone
until I got married.  We used to be amazed at how clean service stations
kept their restrooms. Our toilet paper had page numbers on it.  The
American dream for the Trimble's  was to someday be rich enough to move
to Williams.
    Winslow likes to brag about how hard the wind blows but it's a fact
that when I moved to Ash Fork in 1947 the town was 62 miles east of
Kingman and when I moved away eight years later it was 112 miles east of
Kingman.
    Folks in our town were so laid back we took valium for a stimulant.
Other towns were serious but not hopeless.  Ash Fork was hopeless but
not serious.  One time they took us on a high school field trip to
Phoenix for a cultural visit to the Phoenix Art Museum. During the tour
we passed a painting of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.  A docent
was describing the painting when he was interrupted by a man from Russia
who said, "Adam and Eve were Russian.  See, they have only one apple and
they're sharing it."
    A French woman said, "No, no. Adam and Eve were French. They're
running around with no clothes like young lovers."
    One of my classmates, Murphy Blanford, stepped up and declared.
"You're both wrong.  Adam and Eve were from Ash Fork."
    All the tourists turned and stared at Murph.  "Why do you say that?"
one asked.
    "Because," he asserted, "they got no clothes to wear and very little
food to eat and they still think they're in heaven."

    Another time a ventriloquist came to town to put on a performance.
His whole routine was poking fun at rural folks.  After about a
half-hour Bubba Clampett stood up and with great indignance said, "Hey,
I'm gettin plumb tired you making fun of us rural folks."
    The ventriloquist paused and said, "I'm sorry sir.  This is just a
show and its all done in fun. I don't mean any harm."
    "I ain't talkin' to you," said Bubba, "I'm talkin' to that smart
aleck sittin' there on your lap."

    Tourists had a tendency to regard us as backwards and less than
bright. A Californian was cruising down Route 66 through Ash Fork when
he noticed a cat drinking from a bowl of milk in front of Clancy's
Trading Post.  It wasn't an ordinary bowl but it was a rare Anasazi
pot.  "My God," he said to himself, "that bowl is priceless and I aim to
have it for my collection."
    He walked into the trading post and pretended to browse for a few
minutes then walked over to Clancy.  "I have a terrible mouse problem in
my home," he began, "and I see you have a fine looking cat outside.  I'd
like to purchase him."
    "The cat ain't for sale," Clancy mumbled.
    "Everything has a price," the tourist corrected.  "I'll give you
twenty-five dollars for him."
    "Cat ain't for sale."
    "How about fifty dollars, no, a hundred dollars."
    There was no comment from Clancy so he raised the ante to five
hundred dollars, then a thousand.
    "Sold," said Clancy.
    The man counted out ten one hundred dollar bills then said. "Say, I
hear cats are creatures of habit and I noticed him drinking from his
bowl.  Could you let me take the bowl so it will make his transition to
my home easier?"
    "No, I can't do that." said Clancy.
    "Why can't you do that?" he demanded.
    "Because that bowl brings me good luck.  That's the seventeenth cat
I've sold this week."