INK IN THE BLOOD
As I write this, I am waiting for one of those truly pleasurable and treasured moments: my son—The Boy—is coming over to watch football with The Dad (while The Mom relishes doting on us with a specially prepared game time repast).
The Boy is even giv ing up some time w ith The Sweetie (The Dad’s name for The Boy’s girlfriend) in order to see his (and The Sweetie’s) team, the New Orleans Saints, whip up on someone.
After that he’s moving on to an afternoon and evening with folks his own age so “old” cooties don’t bite him.
At that point, I will tune in to see my Houston Texans hopefully snap out of the doldrums and kick somebody’s tail.
Laughter is big here and I’m into comedy of all kinds (as long as it’s clean and not mean). I recently penned a piece about the death of my all time favorite purveyor of comedy, a grand master, Jonathan Winters.
I love Eddie Murphy as well, although we don’t see as much of him as we used to because, like so many other entertainers, the big money has made a Las Vegas denizen of him.
Murphy was so good that some radio personalities began doing impersonations of his characters. The genius Murphy created a character named Tyrone, who was ( Tyrone thought) a really hip dude. Murphy put an oddity twist to Tyrone’s speech that was hilarious and clever.
Two longtime Houston drivetime deejays—Hudson and Harrigan— did a take-off on Murphy’s Tyrone, giving him the full name of Tyrone T. Tyrone, replete with an even more exaggerated speech twist than Murphy himself had done. A good many years ago, we lived in Fort Bend County, but when our older son Chris was entering high school, we decided he needed a more structured, enriched educational experience and enrolled him in Episcopal High School in Bellaire.
Since he was not yet old enough to have a driver’s license, it was my early morning duty to drive him into the Harris County/ Houston school since there was no bus service from where we lived to the school.
On the way each morning, he and I tuned in to KILT to hear Hudson and Harrigan (a copyrighted programming name for the DJ duo; I knew Hudson socially).
Hudson was mostly a straight man for Harrigan, who could do impersonations, and did his Murphy takeoff with Tyrone T. Tyrone.
Often, the “interview commentary” had to do with the status of the then-Houston Oilers, who had, if memory serves, fallen on hard times and so were targets of much ridiculing parody. Chris and I would laugh ourselves silly at the routines Harrigan came up with during his Tyrone T. Tyrone interviews with the laconic Hudson.
But, we each thought the funniest expression he had was when he talked about the Houston Oilers “foot-muh-ball team.” While it may not do much in print, “footmuh ball” certainly tickled the funny bone inside my ear.
Naturally, I follow the male gender doofus tendencies (as females seem to believe) and watch f ootball games on T V.
Today, after I finish this, I’ll tune in to the supposed-to-bechamp Texans and suf fer or swoon as they try to keep from being totally eliminated from the playoff picture at mid-season.
When I’m almost lulled to sleep by the know-it-all talking heads that are supposed to be “swooned to” by us nerdy-knownothing fans, I’ll allow myself the entertaining luxury of “hearing” Tyrone describe the game.
It’ll be ever so much more enjoyable.