This comes from “Fit the Twelfth,” the final episode of the radio version of The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. The lads have found the ruler of the universe, who is a solitary man in a shack, and who has a cat. While feeding the cat he says,
“I think fish is nice, but then l think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge?”
I’m going to include some screen captures below, because I’m too lazy to type out the whole thing. But it’s Douglas Adams at his most humorously philosophical, and also empirical.
These are all, spectacularly, from the same album. But so many phrases come from them: ”Boot to the head.” ”Yeah, yeah, patience… how long will that take?” ” I have urges in my areas.” ”…and one for Jenny and the wimp.” ”Beat people up?”
What’s interesting is “Ti Kwan Leep” has generated second generation performances in… martial arts schools, of all places. Here’s an example (a little shaky, but others stick in Vangelis’ Chariots of Fire):
The Frantics were a recurring act on a radio show for novelty records, hosted by Dr Demento. The good Doctor’s most famous acolyte was “Weird Al” Yankovic, who got his start on the radio program.
Lexicon. This will dovetail into another entry about the difference between an actor and a star that I hope to make, but this guy is a 37-year-old Harrison Ford, in Apocalypse Now. Many people miss him, even when told to look for him. When asked about it, he (reportedly) once said, “I’m an actor. You’re not supposed to notice me.”
Lexicon. From Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns. Sometimes reworked as, “C’mon, Clark. You won’t be late. You hate being late.” Clearly a case of bad memory, since the original is really commenting on Clark’s sleeping habits. (Just for search index: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Superman, Batman)
I’m going to quote this in full. Mostly so I can have it in a safe place, and not disappear due to link rot, or the Brownian swirl of the internet.
“As Canadian as possible under the circumstances” is arguably one of the most famous Canadian aphorisms. But not many know its author, or how it came to be.
In 1972, Peter Gzowski, then summer host of This Country in the Morning, held a contest to complete (in the manner of “As American as apple pie”) the saying “As Canadian as …”. Heather Scott, a seventeen-year-old summer music school student at the time, heard of the contest, and immediately came up with the phrase that has since become so famous. The subsequent telephone call from Peter to Heather at her school began what was to become an on-and-off relationship with “Mr. Canada”.
Heather was a passionate Canadian, who cared deeply about her country and her fellow man. She bravely completed her University of Toronto Honours B.A. while recovering from Hodgkin’s Disease, and went on to a career as a production editor with Prentice Hall, married and miraculously (after all her radiation treatments) bore a daughter, Sarah. Her other popular claim to fame is as editor of Don Cherry’s autobiography, for which she earned a flowery dedication from Don.
Sadly, her cancer returned in 1990, and she died at home (in White Rock, B.C.) on 30 October 1994. Ironically, Peter Gzowski visited White Rock on a book tour just a few days later. They never met, until perhaps Peter’s own passing a scant eight years later.
R. W. Scott (Heather’s father) Long Point, Ontario 18 May 2004
This can be lexicon, as I joke about five (maybe six) of my eight great-grandparents being Canadian makes me ethnically so. Sometimes rephrased as, “As well as possible…” in response to the American opening question, “How are you doing?”
So. In a splendid case of “verbing weirds language,” what does it mean to “Bob Watterlond {someone}.”?
Bob Watterlond was an unassuming man. Somewhat stringy brown hair. Large glasses, with thick, square frames. Perhaps a little thick around the middle. A mustache much in favor today, but not in the late ‘80s/early ’90s when I knew him.
Which was at the LA distributorship of Gallo Wine.
Bob was the Credit Manager. Among his duties, he would collect delinquent accounts.
His method was charmingly simple. Bob would call the liquor store (or restaurant) and go, “Hello, Mrs. Kim. How are things today? The children are doing well? Great, great, glad to hear it. I was calling to remind you you owe Gallo Wine $167.47, and we’re not going to ship new product to you until you pay. OK, Mrs.Kim, hope you have a nice day.”
And then he’d call the next day, sweet as could be.
And the next.
And the next.
I guess things went to a formal collection agency after 28 days. But he’d remind you if you didn’t pay before then, his hands were tied when it came to what happened afterwards.
I’m reminded of all this because I’m Bob Watterlond-ing someone right now, trying to get them to produce a document to me.
This comes from a sub-section of the original BBC Radio version of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It’s a bit intricate, so here’s the whole thing:
“May (or may not)…” pops up all over in my lexicon.
“Some of you may (or may not) remember the story I told…”
Although on re-hearing it, I admit a fondness for “Representatives of the Amalgamated Union of Philosophers, Sages, Luminaries, and Other Professional Thinking Persons.” Let alone, “(W)e demand rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty!”
