Archive for April, 2008

Posted on April 10, 2008 - by Hubba

Hubba Live!

Paula and I (Paula is my acoustic guitar) have been invited by our good friends Jonathan Arnio and Micheal Swan to perform at the WallStock concert this coming Saturday, April 12th.

The WHS Senior Class is raising money for their upcoming educational trip to New York City, and WallStock is a fundraising concert featuring local bands the Twilighters, Black Velvet, and the oddly named Saints Perdition.  I am scheduled to perform a half hour or so between the Twilighters and Black Velvet, around seven o’clock.

I would love to see you there.  I suppose there is a charge (it is a fundraiser) but I don’t know how much.  WallStock starts at five o’clock pm in the Old School Gymnasium (uh, drive around Wall, maybe ask somebody) this Saturday, April 12th.

And thanks to Jonny and Mike for inviting me to be a part of this!

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Posted on April 10, 2008 - by Hubba

My First Message to the Youth of America

I am flattering myself a little bit to think that the “Youth of America” are actually visiting my little House.  But seriously, if you know a youth, maybe have him read this.  I think I can help him or her through some of life’s difficulties.  And while we’re at it, this is open to the “Youth of the World,” provided of course that they can read English, because I don’t have time to translate.  I will impart what bits of wisdom I have gleaned at the end of the story, because (surprise!) that’s what it is.

I have mentioned before that my dad likes to use stories to caution or motivate the young and inexperienced.  One of his favorite motivational stories from my childhood was about how he passed typing class in high school.

My dad’s high school experience paralleled mine in some respects.  He spent eight years in little country schools (more…)

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Posted on April 8, 2008 - by Hubba

I Don’t Like Onions!

We are in the process of retooling our podcast configuration, so in the meantime I’m trying to keep my fans (Can I call you that?  Can I call you Baby?) entertained with these trivial observations of mine.  It’s proving to be quite fun.

So here’s another; I don’t like onions, as the headline says.  About the only kind of onion I like is an onion ring, and if they made just the ring without an onion in it, that would be fine with me.

Onions are like the jock of foods- they onion up everything around them.  Put a diced onion in your refrigerator, and within a half hour, everything from the milk to the ranch dressing will taste like onions.

The problem is that the qualities of an onion (more…)

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Posted on April 8, 2008 - by Hubba

The ESN; Dashing Through the Snow

After a bit of inclement weather during the first part of the week, the rest of the week was gloriously warm until Saturday night, when Elm Springs received a very wet snowfall which lasted well into Sunday. No one was complaining, except maybe the unfortunate participants in the Easter Camping Trip, whose hardships will be detailed below.

Several of the kind citizens attended the Catalyst Club’s Good Neighbor banquet Friday night in Rapid City, where former kind citizen Richard Johnston was recognized (more…)

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Posted on April 3, 2008 - by Hubba

The Unfortunate Fred Ziffle

My dad is one of those people who has to tell cautionary tales to children and the inexperienced, to warn them of various pitfalls.

The fictional individual my dad employed for this purpose was a man named Fred Ziffle.  Poor Mr. Ziffle couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions written on the heel, and he was dismembered almost weekly in one of Dad’s illustrations.

For example, if we were working around a PTO shaft, and someone in the group was wearing loose fitting clothing, particularly drawstrings on a sweatshirt, Mr. Ziffle, still covered in dirt from last week’s burial, would be hastily shoved to the front of our imaginations.

“You don’t ever wanna do that,” Dad would begin.  “Let’s say me and Fred Ziffle are working around the PTO shaft (poor Fred at this point grimacing and saying “oh sonofabitch not again!”) and Fred’s got those drawstrings hanging down and he bends over to look at something. ‘Mr. Trask, I think I’- and POW (he was always in the midst of addressing Dad when the calamity befell him) he’s all wrapped up in the PTO shaft, he’s dead, there’s blood all over…”

But the best part, the part that really drove it home, was yet to come.

“And then I got to go to the house and call Mrs. Ziffle (ah yes, the long suffering Mrs. Ziffle, who understandably lived in terror for the well-being of her son) and say, ‘Mrs. Ziffle, I’m sorry, but your boy was working on the PTO shaft and he, uh, well, I’m sorry, I tried to tell him, but he’s dead, you’re going to have to come out here and get him, I’m sorry.”

Such a shame.  He was recovering so nicely from that wire stretcher accident he had last week…

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