For those readers unfamiliar with Hoots, I suggest this short essay entitled, Man And Machine , which contains a description of his most recent incarnation and a short clip of him reciting a poem about being human.
"Hoot's! What's up?"
"I'm rehearsing, Geo."
"You're in a play?"
"Yeah, me and the other robots are doing a play about Luddites."
"Well, there's some irony."
"Not really, this isn't a for-real sledge hammer but a mallet. It's head is rolled leather, not iron."
"You got into my tool box again, didn't you?"
"I guess. VW Bus said you don't use it to install oil seals any more. Said you hire it done now."
"True, but you should ask first."
"Artistic license. No time for permission. I'm booked up!"
"Great, Hoots! Where?"
"Right here on the table. My audience is in that chair."
"Wow! Packed house. They look excited."
"They ARE ! That's because I play a great Ned Ludd."
"Excuse me, Hoots, but there's some doubt about Ned Ludd ever existing and...uh."
"And...uh what?"
"He was also supposed to wear a full-length dress."
"Exactly, Geo., I have personal experiences with both issues. Do you remember how I began?"
"You were my hand puppet when I was a little kid."
"Yes Geo., nearly 60 years ago, I was your hand puppet and we were working on a routine in front of the mirror. That was the day I decided to lift my gown --polkadotted, like Ned Ludd's-- and see what was in it. Can you imagine my consternation at seeing my naked body? It wasn't a body. It was a big hand with its middle finger up my head. I am no stranger to full-length dress, or non-existence. How would you feel if you found your head was just sewn onto your collar?"
"Upset, of course. But remember, every time you wore out or got lost, I'd rebuild you into some new incarnation."
"Inmechanization, more aptly. But please, I must deliver my character's closing line. You'll recognize it from our first routine, part of my original programming.
"Wouldn't miss it for anything, Hoots. Let me get into the other chair. Okay!"
Ned (Hoots): ONWARD my beloveds! Let us lay this ghost of oppressive fear and make Earth the best planet in the WORLD!!!
The applause was deafening.
There are days when I feel like MY head has been sewn on to my collar. I'm afraid to look in case all there is in there is a big finger. On the other hand (no pun intended), that would leave me NOT responsible for my actions.
ReplyDeleteI love the fan club - and think you have been remiss in not providing more seating. If you seat them, they will come...
ReplyDeleteBrava, Brava.....Oh well done, you.
ReplyDeleteDear Geo, Lucky Hoot. He has had a friend for 60 years who is there to sew his head back on when it gets ripped off. We should all be as fortunate.
ReplyDeleteDelores-- I remember that feeling in my graduation gown, but forgot to check my neck for stitches.
ReplyDeleteE.C.-- You're right, but I must limit the number of robots in my yard. They get into mischief.
C. Consigliere-- Thanks! Hoots is an inspiration to automated Luddites everywhere.
Arleen-- That's what friends are for!
Ironies abound in life. My mother was one of the biggest Luddites in the world in her day while I am diametrically opposite. It seems that some families can not avoid the big swings.
ReplyDeleteMy cowboy hat is off to Hoots. Anyone who can successfully portray Ned Ludd has to be a first-class thespian.
ReplyDeleteI love the photo of the audience, but you definitely need more seating. Instead of a full chair, you will have a full house.
Laoch-- My mother too! Her response to every household mechanical malfunction was, "You've got to jiggle it." Strangely, it worked.
ReplyDeleteJon-- Full house might give Hoots a big head. Then I'd have to build him a bigger body. Who knows where it'd end?
I thoroughly enjoyed this Geo.
ReplyDeleteNicely done!
'It wasn't a body. It was a big hand with its middle finger up my head.'
ReplyDeletemade me laugh out loud.
Margie-- Kind comment, 1000 mile smile.
ReplyDeleteSuze-- Your laughter, my reward. Thanks.
The audience is adorable. I looooove the audience.
ReplyDeleteMichelle-- The audience is composed of toy robots we bought for the kids when they were young. It was fun to get them out and arrange them --the robots, I mean.
ReplyDeleteFun post! (As always.) I'm not a Luddite, but I have been know to make perfectly good watches stop running after they've been strapped onto my wrist. Must be my magnetic personality.
ReplyDelete