Monday, June 17, 2013

Dale was an uncle that bragged about being the biggest story teller around. Not just the tall tales, but outright lies. He was proud that fiction and truth struggled constantly and often truth was mighty battered. I've shared some of his stories, but here are a few more.

Topping Whopper
I’ve mentioned my uncle Dale before. He was a man who told lies and tall tales as an integral part of his life and was incapable of completing a full sentence without using a variety of curse words. He cultivated his swear words until he was able to reap a huge crop. It came to the point that he would use profanity without consciously knowing he was using it.
He was in the local snack bar one morning bragging about how many fish he had caught while waiting for his food and sipping on a cup of coffee.
After a few minutes, a man got up from a nearby table and approached Dale who was sitting at the counter. He stopped beside my uncle and said, “Sir, do you know who I am?”
When Dale swiveled his stool to where he could see the man, he said, “No.”
The man pulled out a badge and said, “I’m Charlie Cunningham. (fictitious name) I am the fish and game warden.”
Dale said, “Do you know who I am?”
Charlie said, “No sir, I don’t.”
Dale replied, “I’m Dale Miner and I am the biggest bull shitter in Indian Head.”
Charlie just shook his head and walked away. That ended the conversation.

One day I challenged him. “Dale I can tell a bigger story than you can.”
Insulted, he took the challenge and I said, “Dale, you go first.”
He said that he had been fishing along the railroad tracks when a storm blew in and as he was hurrying home, the lightning hit the tracks behind him. He looked back and saw the lightning racing along the steel rail following him. He knew if he didn’t make it back to Indian Head and throw the switch; it would blow the town off the map. He threw down his pole and tackle and ran full speed into Indian Head ahead of the lightning. He said, “It was close boy. I felt my fingers tingle as I threw the switch.”
He took every bit of ten minutes to relay the story and details.
I said, “Are you finished?” He nodded and I started my story. “Dale, you’re the most honest man I know.”
He looked stunned for a few seconds before laughing and saying, “I’ll be damned if you didn’t beat me.”

Another morning, ne of Dale’s friends asked, “Dale, how many pancakes did you eat this morning?”
When Dale replied that he had eaten fourteen pancakes, his friend said, I beat you Dale. I had sixteen.”
Dale wasn’t one to go down in defeat easily said, “But did you have an egg between each cake?”

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