Cell phone-ics got his goat…then Killed his U-Goat! A tirade..

Ok, new descriptive style here, reader-friendly. Let’s see if it makes seeing the point, and the course of the Palindrome both-of-’em more graspable.
This one is truly a tirade. You’d be tiradian too if you’d spent what he did on a 40 foot partly submersible tourist water-craft shaped like an anatomically-correct Goat, and complete with observation decks inside the head and neck. The main photo on the brochure shows it mostly submerged, looking like a Loch Ness monster, but with horns. Cell-phone antennas, but that’s water under the dam now…

We’re talking about an acquaintance of mine from the UK. Sidney Hawker, of Newcastle-upon Tyne.
(And no, I have no idea why they feel a need to append the name of the nearest river to the town. Guess I should just be happy not to have to call myself Yonatan Solberg from Conestoga-upon-Susquehanna.)
Anyway, I innocently emailed him just to ask, you know ‘How’s it hanging, mate?’  He briefed me on the doomed project, and added this blow-by-blow:

Ok, the first (and last) passengers were a (loud) 15-person group of New-Agers from the University of South Derry.
U-SD RATS! I was pissed even before we left the harbor. ABUSE! I called it, but I guess for them, full-time babel on a phone is kinda what keeps the body alive. ‘OH, CELLULAR! I said in mock-forgiveness and understanding. But added “EVEN ON A U-GOAT!?” I was hurt, thinking that the ride should have been enough by itself. ‘TILL A CUT!’ I added, swiping my hand across my throat. A threat to push that one magic button and kill service.
The gang started up with some holy-modal-mystical hoo-about ‘Being here now, but in touch as One. ‘U CALL IT ‘TAO?’ I pretended to care.”GUANO! I kinda spit, if some of the crowd didn’t know from bloody bat-shit.
I guess I should have ‘noise-attenuated’ the steel hull, looking back. Woulda added another 10 K Euro to the price, big deal.

And that was that” he finished. “She does look canny these days standing tall on dry land. And I did remove the cell antennae a couple weeks later, and added ‘No Cell-phones! to the new brochures. But the market’s gone totally dry ever since. This generation of twitters, selfiers, and Insta-whatevahs ain’t got time for a ‘Run silent, run deep’ experience.”

ME: I couldn’t help but notice that he’s obviously been infected by palindrome-itus:
Here’s the ‘transcript’ complete and uninterrupted:

Like this style?? (I mean my WP Post-style.) Sidney’s customer-relations style could obviously benefit from a lesson or two. Or diazepam. Or both.


8 thoughts on “Cell phone-ics got his goat…then Killed his U-Goat! A tirade..

  1. promisesunshine

    I really have no words for your creativity.
    I do Sudoku to keep my brain somewhat alert. (Admittedly, I’m losing ground with that too.)
    I’m going to pick a random month to see what was what then. I hope I make it out alive.

    1. solberg73 Post author

      And I have no words, my dear one, for our ‘common wavelength: I do PALs to save what’s left of my brain, or at least to monitor its demise.
      But more (!) is that , while you were reading, I was going through 2008, at random, precisely to see ‘what was what then! Seems there was magic and bravado in the air, the incredible Xanga-at-its-finest spirit, and no Drumpfs to ruin any deluded ten-minute mood of optimism.
      I must ask: were you there, under another name?
      Hmm.. Creativity: nothing more than that a ‘Goat’ needed because ‘Guano’ starts with a ‘G’. Bubbhle-burst much? Like Tchaikovsky picked ‘F’ for the key of the 4th Symphony cuz, fuck-it, the Eb is stuck on my keyboard.
      At any rate, so sweet to hear from you, and from my home state on this rainy saturday.

      1. promisesunshine

        I just got a little shiver down my spine, thinking 2008 is where I wandered. Alas, I chose December 2007. Close, no cigar.
        I joined Xanga late in the party, October 2011. Funny story how I got there. (which you’ll soon see I’m not telling). The other name was very short-lived and unremarkable (and part of the story I’m not telling).
        If you would please help a girl out with the location of house photos. At some point. I’ve got a job list that prevents me from getting too lost in your archives.
        Also, guano. A must have.
        Our home state rain feels like snow.

        1. solberg73 Post author

          I’ll work seriously on finding posts + pix on the Houses.
          Snow sounds romantic.. until my bald-tired ’91 Subaru is stuck off the road and pleads: ‘Walk home, Daddy, I’ll be here after it all melts. ‘ My last three trips to PA were all in Dec/Jan. I’m really trying to save for a spring visit next. While paying $8/gal for gas. Stay warm/ JS

  2. eleanorio

    Sidney Hawker, of Newcastle-on-Tyne,
    Left shore afore affixing this sign:
    “Cell phones are verbot’
    When you ride the U-Goat!”
    Now his goat-boat is left high and dry.

    1. solberg73 Post author

      Excellente! Only someone like you who perhaps, like me, hears a melody under every poem-construction, could have composed a lyrics-ready work.
      I’m also reminded of Mose Allison’s line:
      ‘And if you must talk nonesense… puhleese try t’ make it rhyme/
      Cuz yo mind is on vacation and yo mouth is workin’ overtime’.
      (No reflection on the to-die-fer poem.)
      El, I just went thru 2008 hurriedly (Road-kill sez I posted on Manitoba before, which would be Alzheimers of course)
      No luck on that score, but your comments, and those of other now-lost compadres re-warm my heart anew; (in some cases, from the grave? Where is our friend D. Eisenberg when we need him? Val (Splork) is alive and well (via a hastily-arranged email address as Xanga Titannic-ed.) And Duncan is immortal, b’ezrat ha-shem / insh’allah.
      But it taketh a Village… as HRC said.plus the mood of , like I told Carrie (above) ‘bravado, zest, ‘joie de something’ (your specialty; Fr) to make an on-line creative experience worth pursuing. And I thank you specifically.
      I have a hardware store in town, as perfectly stocked with items one needs daily as imaginable and run by a dependable local family. I love telling them, truthfully, that the moment they, god-forbid, close, I’ll be on my way to Ben Gurion Departure terminal. Yes, they, like you, are *that* critical.
      Thanks, as always, for your attention, you 10-yr veteran…. and deservedly proud mommy/

  3. happierheathen

    I’m a-wonderin’ now if I ought to continue seeking encrypted humor in the tale, given that pissed before leaving the harbor means something entirely different depending upon whether or not one includes a superfluous harelip U in the spelling of harbor.

    Be that as it may but likely ain’t, bravo once’t more. And thanks for putting me in mind of a song I’ve always loved, you bastard you:

  4. solberg73 Post author

    Wow, you go waaay back.. to when songs had discernible lyrics, etc. had I thought about linking a tune, it might have been Elvis Costello ‘Tramp the dirt down;, about Ms Thatcher. Only hope he does a remake about today’s child-menace-to humanity, even more deserving of a speedy exit.
    Do explain, btw, the suspected ‘pisses’ harbour’ conjecture; it’d be great to know what I missed.
    And thanks for your steady readership, bro


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