Once upon a political campaign, my daughter and I went doorbelling with our (then) local Concressman Al Swift. We had a great time with a consummate politician. He told this story about his predecessor, Warren Magnuson:
Up in Bellingham there was a Norwegian who decided to take his skiff out to fish rather than go to work one day. He found the salmon running in one of his favorite spots and soon had caught a fair number. Then a fog bank rolled in and he decided it was time to quit. As he pulled for shore a large cabin cruiser materialized beside him and a gravelly voice inquired how he did.
-- Yust fine!
-- Have you caught any fish?
-- Oh, yes! he said, lifting one thirty pounder into view. And that's a small one!
-- Listen. I'm Warren Magnuson. My guest today is Harry Truman. He's on his way back to Washington DC from a conference and stopped here to relax. We've been fishing all day and caught nothing. Can I buy your catch?
-- Ya! Sure.
Soon the transaction was completed and our fisherman pulled for shore while the President and Congressman prepared for a good dinner.
On the way home the fisherman stopped into his neighborhood tavern to boast and have a drink. Of course such luck must be shared or it will dry up and blow away. And there were so many of his friend's just happened to be at the Tav that night.
At last he managed to cross his own threshold. There was his wife with her brows like a thundercloud above her folded arms.
-- Where's your paycheck? Says she.
-- Didn't go to work.
-- where'd ya go?
-- Fishing.
-- Where's the fish?
-- I sold them to the President of the United States and Congressman Magnuson.
That's when she started hitting him.
Al continued: That's the story Maggy told. But I added this line:
How hard it is to tell an improbable truth convincingly!
--ml
Up in Bellingham there was a Norwegian who decided to take his skiff out to fish rather than go to work one day. He found the salmon running in one of his favorite spots and soon had caught a fair number. Then a fog bank rolled in and he decided it was time to quit. As he pulled for shore a large cabin cruiser materialized beside him and a gravelly voice inquired how he did.
-- Yust fine!
-- Have you caught any fish?
-- Oh, yes! he said, lifting one thirty pounder into view. And that's a small one!
-- Listen. I'm Warren Magnuson. My guest today is Harry Truman. He's on his way back to Washington DC from a conference and stopped here to relax. We've been fishing all day and caught nothing. Can I buy your catch?
-- Ya! Sure.
Soon the transaction was completed and our fisherman pulled for shore while the President and Congressman prepared for a good dinner.
On the way home the fisherman stopped into his neighborhood tavern to boast and have a drink. Of course such luck must be shared or it will dry up and blow away. And there were so many of his friend's just happened to be at the Tav that night.
At last he managed to cross his own threshold. There was his wife with her brows like a thundercloud above her folded arms.
-- Where's your paycheck? Says she.
-- Didn't go to work.
-- where'd ya go?
-- Fishing.
-- Where's the fish?
-- I sold them to the President of the United States and Congressman Magnuson.
That's when she started hitting him.
Al continued: That's the story Maggy told. But I added this line:
How hard it is to tell an improbable truth convincingly!
--ml
I don't see how anyone could have disbelieved him. But I'm not married.
ReplyDeleteFunnily enough, I've been re-reading "Plain Speaking," and old Harry doesn't mention it there.
Good story indeed!
ReplyDeleteMary