Gabby doesn’t have a driver’s license and only drives if it is absolutely necessary. Gabby had a car accident one day trying to deliver his very favorite mule, Twitcher, over to Percival’s farm. The case ended up in court in Rumford. There, the trucking company’s lawyer, representing the trucking company that ran into Gabby, was questioning Gabby. “Didn’t you say, at the scene of the accident, ‘I’m fine’ asked the lawyer…?”

Gabby responded, “Mebee, I’ll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite mule, Twitcher, into the…”

“I didn’t ask for any details”, the lawyer interrupted. “Just answer the question. Did you not say, at the scene of the accident, ‘I’m fine!’?”

Gabby began again, “I was saying, I had just got Twitcher into the trailer and I was driving down the road….”

The lawyer interrupted again and said, “Judge, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the Highway Patrolman on the scene that he was just fine. Now several weeks after the accident he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question.”

By this time, the Judge was fairly interested in Gabby’s answer and said to the lawyer, “I’d like to hear what he has to say about his favorite mule, this Twitcher did you say his name was”?

“Ayuh!” replied Gabby and thanked the Judge and proceeded. “Ya see as I trying to tell ya, I had just loaded Twitcher, my favorite mule, into the trailer and was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer ran the stop sign and smacked my truck right in the side. I got thrown into one ditch and Twitcher he got thrown into the other. I wanna tell ya, I was hurting god awful and couldn’t move much.

“However, I could hear Twitcher moaning and groaning wicked lots. I knew she was in some serious bad way just by her groans. Pretty soon I seen a Highway Patrolman come on the scene. He could hear Twitcher moaning and groaning so he went over to her. After he looked at her, and saw her fatal condition, he took out his gun and shot her right between the eyes. Then that Patrolman came across the road and he got his gun still in his hand and looked at me and said, ‘How are you feeling?’ Now tell me Mr. Judge. What would you say?”

It was a beautiful Wednesday afternoon. Otis had made his rounds around town making sure everybody had everything under control. He decided it was time to wander over to the Town Common, make sure the bandstand was in fine shape and take up a perch on one of the benches in the shade. “Golly,” he thought. “I might even take a nap.”

After checking out the bandstand, Otis decided his favorite bench on the far back corner would suffice, after all, he could keep an eye on what was going on at the town office and see if any newcomers arrived in town.

But on his way, he passed an elderly woman he reckoned he didn’t really know. She was sitting on his second favorite bench sobbing her eyes out.

“What’s wrong with you, lady?” he asked.

“I have a 22-year old husband at home. He makes love to me every morning and then gets up and makes me pancakes, sausage, fresh fruit and freshly ground coffee.” she sobbed.

“But why are you crying so?” asked Otis once again.

“He makes me homemade soup for lunch and my favorite brownies and then makes love to me for half the afternoon.” she continues to wail and Otis is completely puzzled.

“That all sounds wonderful, lady,” replied Otis, “But it confuses me as to why you are so upset that you’re crying like this?”

“For dinner he makes me a gourmet meal with wine and my favorite dessert and then makes love to me until 2:00 a.m.” the sobbing was obnoxious.

“None of this makes any sense to me, lady!” Otis exclaimed, coming to the end of his patience. “I’m going to ask you one more time, why are you crying so?”

“I can’t remember where I live!”

Otis and Gabby were sitting on milk crates in front of Mill’s Market doing their usual thing…….nothing, when Otis noticed something strange about Gabby.

“Gabby,” exclaimed Otis. “Do you realize you have a suppository stuffed in your right ear?”

With that Gabby reached up and pulled a suppository out of his right ear. He stared at it for a moment and then said, “Ah ha! Now I know where my hearing aid is”.

Otis hates doctors and has little use for them. He had heard just about enough from everyone he run into about not eating right, getting exercise, too much smoking, too much drinking, too much of this and too little of that. He decided he would go see a “smaaht” doctor and get some advice.

Otis had heard there was a new Chinese doctor had moved to town down in Rumford, so off he went in search for some answers. When he finally got in to see the doctor, he had his questions all ready to go.

“Doctor,” inquired Otis. “You these stupid people all they do is run all the time? This exercise stuff can it prolong your life?”

Doctor Wong, “Heart only good for so many beats, and that it… Don’t waste on exercise. Everything wear out eventually. Speed up heart not make live longer; that like say you can extend life of car by driving faster. Want live longer? Take nap.

“I like red meat. Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?”, asked Otis.

Doctor Wong, “You must grasp logistical efficiencies.. What does cow eat? Hay and corn. What are these? Vegetables. So, steak nothing more than efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef also good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And pork chop can give 100% recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.”

Otis inquired again, “What about booze? Not that I drink that much but I do like my Budweiser. I was thinking of my buddy Gabby. Do I gotta stop drinkin?”

Doctor Wong, “No, not at all. Wine made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine. That means they take water out of fruity bit; get even more of goodness that way. Beer also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

“I don’t know what people are talking about when they ask me about my fat ratio or some such foolishness. How can I figure out my body/fat ratio?” quizzed Otis.

Doctor Wong, “If you have body and you have fat, ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, ratio is two to one, etc.”

Otis wanted to know, “What the heck good is it doing anybody to run around town everyday of the week? Is there any good reason to do that?”

Doctor Wong, “Cannot think of single one, sorry. My philosophy: No Pain…Good!”

“People tell me to stop eating Mills’ Market french fries. Are fried foods bad for you?” asked Otis.

Doctor Wong, “YOU NOT LISTENING!!! …. Foods fried in vegetable oil. How getting more vegetables be bad for you?”

Asked Otis, “Hey, Doc! Do you think the women would like me more if I had one of them rock hard, rippled stomachs? Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?”

Doctor Wong, “Definitely not! When you exercise muscle, it get bigger. You should only do sit-ups if want bigger stomach.”

“Is chocolate bad for me?” Otis inquired.

Doctor Wong, “You crazy? HELLO …. Cocoa beans! Vegetable!!! Cocoa beans best feel-good food around!”

“I hate the water but I am told swimming is healthy. Is swimming good for your figure?” Otis wanted to know.

Doctor Wong, “If swimming good for figure, explain whales to me.”

Once Doctor Wong figured Otis was done asking him questions, he said to Otis, “I discover important philosophy of life:
1. The Japanese eat no fat and have fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. The Mexicans eat lot of fat and have fewer heart attacks than Americans.

3. The Chinese drink little red wine and have fewer heart attacks than Americans.

4. The Italians drink lot of red wine and have fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. The Germans drink lot of beers and eat lot of sausages and fats and have fewer heart attacks than Americans.

I come to this CONCLUSION…..

Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English kill you.”

Gary was removing a cylinder-head from the motor of a Harley motorcycle when he spotted a well-known cardiologist who had recently moved to Andover, in his garage. The Doc was there hoping for someone to come and take a look at his bike. Gary, grinning a bit to Otis who happened to be hanging around, shouted across the garage, “Hey Doc, want to take a look at this?”

The Doc, a bit surprised, walked over to where Gary and Otis were working on the motorcycle. Gary straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked, “So Doc, look at this engine. I open this thing up just like you do, take the valves out, repair any damage, and then put them back in, and when I finish, it works just like new. So how come I make $39,675 a year and you get the really big bucks ($1,695,759) when you and I are doing basically the same work?”

Otis stood by, eyes wide open, chest puffed out, just knowing ole Gary stumped the Doc on that one.

The Doc leaned forward and whispered in Gary’s ear, “Try doing it with the motor running.”

He’s much better looking now!

Otis and Gabby were hanging out on the bandstand one day and decided that they had had enough of the long winters in Maine. They heard Florida was the place to be in winter, but before heading down, they thought they would send for some information on just where to live. This is what they got.

When officials arrived in Andover looking for suspected illegal immigrants, Otis gave this picture to the officers telling them he didn’t know anything about illegal immigrants but he sure thought that car looked mighty suspicious. He said he hadn’t seen a car painted red in Andover in a real long time.

Otis and Gabby decided several years ago to start up a business together. They called their new enterprise Otis and Gabby, LTD. You see several years ago Otis created the ultimate in gadgets. He called it the “SCATS”. It was a gimmick made completely out of alder bushes that was a Seat, a Cane, a Table and a Stool all in one – ala SCATS.

There was only one problem. They had about 300 of these things on hand and had yet to sell any of them. Otis of course was the “brains” behind the business and Gabby was the manual labor but in order to get the business up and running, both Otis and Gabby had to take out a loan at the Andover Savings and Loan, at the time managed by “Cash” Crumsley. Otis and Gabby were near defaulting on their loan.

One day a man from China appeared on Otis’ doorstep looking to do some business. Mr. Chow said he had heard about Otis’ SCATS product and was interested in buying out everything in stock along with the patent rights to the SCATS.

There was much wheeling and dealing until finally Otis, Gabby and Mr. Chow had reached an agreement. All the papers were signed and what seemed a sure thing began to turn south in a hurry. As Mr. Chow was getting ready to leave, he said to Otis, “This is a very big deal and I must get final approval from my boss back in Bejing. If you don’t hear from me in four days, you will know that the deal is approved.”

For four days Otis and Gabby paced, worried to death not daring to answer the phone thinking it might be “Cash” Crumsley wanting to collect his money. The hours, minutes and seconds ticked by and Otis was just about as nervous as a clam at low tide. Right then, a knock came on the door with a yell out, “Western Union”.

Otis fell out of his chair knowing it was bad news from China. Gabby, not really being a full deck of cards upstairs, ran to the door to answer it. He whirled around and yelled to Otis, “Good news! Your mother is dead!”

Mainard True

Some think Otis is a fool but those of us who don’t think we are fools know that Otis is no fool…..I think! Otis is also a clever and conniving man and often thinks it a great pastime to pretend to be someone that he’s not.

What most residents of Andover don’t know about Otis is that he reads the newspapers everyday incessantly. He read about a man from Boston who had gotten in a bad car accident and had recently won a very lucrative settlement because of that accident.

The man was disfigured in the accident losing both of his ears, was very sensitive and self conscious about his loss but was determined to move on and make a better life for himself. Otis had read in the paper that this man was considering a move to Maine and wanted to open a computer business in Rumford and was looking for capable people to help him with his business.

Otis had an idea. He sent the man a phony resume and scheduled an interview. When Otis arrived for his interview, he noticed two other young, well dressed men ahead of him – assuming they too were there for the interview.

The first man entered the office for his interview and the earless man was quite impressed with the guy. At the conclusion of the meeting the man asked the young applicant if he noticed anything unusual about him. The young man replied, “Yeah, you don’t have any ears.”

Mr. Earless was quick to anger and escorted the young man to the door.

The second applicant entered and once again Mr. Earless was even more impressed with this applicant and at the conclusion of the interview asked the young man if there was anything unusual about him that he noticed. “Yeah, you don’t have any ears,” was his reply and was also tossed out the front door.

It was Otis’ turn. Entering the office he looked around and got a sense of what he was confronting. The interview went very well. You see, Otis is the master of deception, the ultimate in con. Mr. Earless was so impressed with Otis’ answers and his seemingly unbridled knowledge of just about any topic of conversation. He knew he wanted to hire Otis immediately but he couldn’t help himself. He asked Otis if he noticed anything about him.

“Yeah,” replied Otis. “I see you wear contact lenses!”

Mr. Earless was nearly blown over because Otis didn’t remark about his lack of ears and that he was so perceptive to notice that he indeed did wear contact lenses.

“I’m duly impressed!” said Mr. Earless. “Tell me how you could tell that I wore contact lenses.”

“That’s simple really,” answered Otis. “I figured that because you didn’t have any ears you couldn’t wear glasses.”

Mainard True

Otis ain’t no drinking man but he does hang out at Al’s Bar over on Back Street. There always was some controversy that surrounded Al’s Bar because it’s the only bar in town – mind you this is a town of only 600 people. In downtown, there’s only one church and some thought it a might risky having but one church AND one bar.

Nevertheless, Al’s Bar was the hangout for a few and Otis frequents the place just to keep tabs on what’s going on around town and besides, he finds half liquored up men a good audience for his incessant drivel.

The head bar tender is named Jerry. Everyone thinks Jerry is the strongest man in town, perhaps all of Norther Oxford County. Others think he may be the strongest man in Al’s Bar and others simply don’t think at all.

When Jerry took over bar tending duties, he posted a “reward” sign in the bar that anyone who could outdo Jerry squeezing the juice out of a lemon, would win $1,000.00.

If challenged, Jerry would cut a lemon in half and squeeze on half of it into a glass. He would squeeze and squeeze with one hand only, those were the rules, until he could no longer get another drop out. If anyone could squeeze even one more tiny drop from that lemon, they would win the $1,000 prize.

Many tried and just as many failed until one day Otis came into Al’s escorting a strange man. The man was as skinny as a Penley’s toothpick, wore an old gray suit about a half size too small and a pair of “coke bottle” spectacles donned his face.

Jerry asks of Otis, “Who’s your friend there Otis?”

“This is Poindexter!” replied Otis. “He’s in town on business and he thinks he can squeeze one more drop out of one of your lemons, Jerry.”

The bar was full, after all it was Friday night and upon Otis’ announcement the entire population broke out in a unison of laughter that lasted several minutes.

Jerry soon came to realize that Poindexter was serious, so he chopped a lemon in half and squeezed for all he was worth. Some thought Jerry might get a little lazy with his squeezing considering the competition but Jerry was no fool. No siree! As a matter of fact, when everyone thought Jerry was finished, Jerry took a deep breath and squeeze for all he was worth.

Poindexter stepped up to the bar and Jerry offered him a chance to back down. He declined and once again the patrons broke into laughter.

As Poindexter concentrated on the task at hand, the crowd began to quiet down in anticipation. Finally, Poindexter picked up the lemon and what seemed like very little effort, managed to squeeze 5 more drops out of the lemon. The crowd roared its approval.

Once the dust had settled, Jerry wanted to know what made Poindexter so strong.

“Are you a weightlifter? A lumberjack? What are you?” asked Jerry.

“I work for the IRS,” was his reply and silently walked out the door with $1,000 cash in hand.

Mainard True

Otis and Gabby had never been on a plane before (before what I don’t know) but they got a chance to go on one of them big jet planes. They traveled down to Portland with a destination to be Boston.

The plane wasn’t a big one. I think it held about 35 people but it was full. Otis and Gabby took their seats about midway in the cabin.

Once everyone was seated, the two flight attendants kept looking out the windows nervously waiting for the arrival of the two pilots. Finally, they arrived and made their way from the rear of the plane, where the door was, up to the cockpit. Otis looked up at the two pilots and noticed the first pilot walking down the aisle carrying a white can, wearing big black sunglasses and bumping into everyone.

Next came the second pilot being led by a guide dog. They made their way into the cabin and Otis and Gabby looked at each other and then around the rest of the cabin, thinking like everyone else that this must be some kind of practical joke.

The plane began to taxi until it made its way to the head of the runway. Obviously the passengers were a bit nervous, not really sure whether it actually was a joke.

Otis tried to assure everyone. “This is the first time I’ve ever flown but I can’t believe them two guys are really blind.”

The plane turned and began to slowly accelerate. The passengers began to mumble and whisper back and forth. The plane sped faster and faster. The passengers got louder and louder.

Finally the plane was only about 50 feet from the end of the runway, when every passenger, like a loud chorus screamed to the top of their lungs knowing full well the pilots were blind and that they were going to die.

Poor Gabby. He had already eaten every bit of snack food he had stuffed into his carry on bag.

At the last possible second, the planes front end rose and the aircraft lifted up off the ground and began a slow ascend toward the clouds.

Slowly the passengers began to breathe a bit easier until the captain came on the PA system and announced, “One of these days, the passengers aren’t going to scream and we won’t know when to pull up!”

Mainard True

I really didn’t want to post this because I like the Patriots and Coach Belichick.

We’ve all been there. You’re in a group and one person begins by telling a story. Perhaps it’s funny or bizarre. Whatever the topic of the story, the first person to tell their story is going to be immediately bested with a bigger and better story by the next person.

There was quite a gathering last Saturday afternoon on the Andover Town Common bandstand. There was Otis and Gabby, Gary, Virgil, Bruce and Alston. Bruce started the conversation.

“You know,” he began. “Them people down at the telephone office ain’t too bright. I called down there yesterday and asked to speak to Arthur. The person who answered the phone told me that Arthur was on vacation for the next two weeks and asked me if I wanted to hold.”

“Hell, that’s nothing,” exclaimed Alston. “I stopped in over at the town office to pay my taxes the other day and the clerk was very angry. I asked her what the problem was and she told me she couldn’t take payment for my taxes because her computer wouldn’t work ever since she bought a new one of them power strips at Wal-Mart. I asked if I could take a look at it and when I got behind the desk, I saw that she had plugged the power strip into itself.”

“Here’s a better one,” said Virgil. “I went over to the post office and that new guy from down in Chester was working in there. When I came in he looked really frustrated and he asked me if I knew anything about fax machines. ‘What’s problem, I asked.’ He said he sent a fax to the office over in Bethel but the woman over there called to say all she got was a cover sheet and a blank sheet of paper. I asked him how he sent it and he told me that being that the document was something he didn’t want just anybody reading, he decided he better fold it in half to make sure no one saw it.”

“Weeeelllllll,” said Otis. “I got you all beat. I was over by the library just yesterday and I saw a young blond woman standing beside her car crying. I went over to see what the problem was. She said she was locked out of her car. She explained that her remote control to unlock the car must have a dead battery in it and she couldn’t get her car opened. She said she was going to walk over to Mills’ Market and see if she could get a new battery. I took her keys and manually unlocked the door, sarcastically telling her to drive over and get a battery because it was too far to walk. So she did.”

“That’s nothing,” said Gabby. “I went in to the doctor’s office over in Rumford one day and as I was leaving, the secretary said she couldn’t give me the written stuff about my visit because all she had was one piece of typing paper left and she needed that for something else. I can’t believe she was so dumb. I had to tell her to use the copy machine and make some more.”

Otis knows all and isn’t afraid to let you know. Because of that, sometimes he becomes the good target of a prank or practical joke.

Otis and Gabby were hanging out in front of Mills’ Market one day when Bruce and Alston came by and stopped to see Otis.

“Say, Otis”, exclaimed Bruce. “I’ll bet you $100 you can’t go up to the old loggers camp on the back side of Berry’s ledge and spend the night.”

That was all it took and Otis took Bruce and Alston up on their proposal. Of course Otis thought Gabby would tag along with him, especially if he brought plenty of food along. Gabby would have nothing to do with it. He knew better than take up that bet. After all, he’d heard all the stories about that camp.

Otis wasn’t about to be made a fool of so he grabbed a six-pack of Pepsi, some red hot dogs and a loaf of Country Kitchen bread and headed for the old loggers camp.

All the while he was riding his bicycle up the East B Hill Road, he talked incessantly to himself making every attempt to convince himself that there was no such thing as ghosts. He claimed that anyone who ever said they saw one was only seeing what he called a figment of their imagination.

Otis arrived at loggers camp and shuffled a few things around inside knowing it was going to be a long night. He dusted off an old mattress on one of the bunks and rolled out an old thinly worn sleeping bag he had kept from his high school days.

Once he felt somewhat settled in, he built a fire in the fireplace and went outside and gathered as much firewood as he could find. He wanted to keep a fire going all night. Not that he was scared or anything but because he was afraid that if he got hungry during the night he wouldn’t be able to quickly cook up a hot dog. Yeah, right!

Darkness began to fall and Otis sat quietly in front of the fire. He had cut about a four-foot long alder stick from down by the brook that ran near the old loggers camp to roast his dogs on. He pressed on a red dog and slowly began roasting it over the open flames.

About half way through cooking his first dog, he heard the front door of the cabin ever so slowly creek open. Otis listened. Soon he looked by the corner of the fireplace and saw a little green man that stood about 4 inches tall. He had funny looking shoes and bright red hair.

The odd looking little creature approached Otis who was nervously rocking back in forth in the old rocker while trying to convince himself he wasn’t really seeing anything.

In a high, squeaky voice, kind of like what an immature Theodore or Alvin Chipmunk might sound like, the creature spoke, “You gonna be here when John gets here?”

Otis looked over at the alien creature and said, “You ain’t nothing but a figment of my imagination!” And with that he took his finger and snapped the little man right back out the front door.

Otis sipped on another Pepsi and talked to himself. He finished that one hot dog and began roasting another when once again he heard the front door slowly creek open, this time just a bit faster than the first time. Otis looked over by the corner of the fireplace and there stood this very weird looking thing. He wasn’t sure what it was. It was about 4 1/2 feet tall with long arms. On each hand it only had three fingers. It had one eye in the middle of its face and hair like that of a Mohawk and it was bright yellow.

It spoke to Otis with a raspy, gravely kind of voice that may have closely resembled Louis Armstrong in his latter years. “You gonna be here when John gets here?” it asked.

With that Otis stood up and approached the odd thing, exclaiming, “You ain’t nothing but a figment of my imagination!” He escorted the thing to the front door and kicked him in the pants forcing him outside.

Otis returned to his seat breathing a bit harder than he normally does and began talking to himself a bit more and a bit louder. He still was trying to convince himself it was really a figment of his imagination.

He finished his second hot dog and sipped his third can of Pepsi. Contemplating whether he was going to roast a third hot dog, for the third time, Otis heard the front door creek open quickly this time followed by a loud “slam” when the door shut. Nervous as a clam at low tide, Otis watched the corner of the fireplace and much to his surprise this manlike creature about 8 and 1/2 feet tall, a huge structure of a being that was fire red in color and eyes that threw sparks out them, came close. It’s mouth opened a bit and green, thick oozing puss-like liquid dripped from the corner of his mouth.

In a loud billowing voice that shook the entire camp, the giant bellows, “Are you going to be here when John gets here?”

Otis quaked in his boots. He tried to tell himself it was a figment of his imagination but just couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead is said, “If you ain’t John, I’m gone!”