Why people think I’m crazy, part I of ∞

My family has a lot of sayings. Growing up, I didn’t realize that they were family specific. So when I say “turn up your hearing aid, woop woop woop woop” or “gettin’ up Ruthie”, I didn’t always realize that people thought me crazy for saying such things. I mean, I utter a lot of incoherent things, but some of these are doozies.

Story behind the “Ruthie” line above, which has to be one of the most common sayings in the family:

My family has the best recipe for pork ribs in the world. I don’t wanna hear it from the Southerners or anyone else about how good theirs are. These get me to eat pork, which I never, ever do otherwise. They’ve been known to induce orgasms; they’re that good.

Whenever we make said ribs, it becomes an event for which people come from far and wide to partake in dead pig. To accomodate everyone, we set up portable tables, benches, stools, et cetera. On one of these porkly occasions, several people were seated on a bench at a wooden table, one of those redwood ones that resemble sawhorses. Ruthie was on the edge, accompanied by Carl, Big Shirley, several others. Without planning, everyone but Ruthie got up from the bench, which took away the counterbalance for Ruthie’s seat (she was on the overhang). Quick as lightning, Ruthie ends up on her back on the ground under the overturned bench, ribs catapulting through the air and one of those “holy shitballs” expressions on her face. Carl surveys the scene quixotially for a moment, then remarks, “Gettin’ up, Ruthie.”

So anytime someone falls off a chair or falls on their own or otherwise has harm betide them, there’s an instant chorus of “Gettin’ up, Ruthie.” It’s reflexive, which leads to my saying it in mixed company and then having to explain the story, which totally defuses any humor the situation might have had. So start spreading the saying. “Gettin’ up, Ruthie” needs to become as much a part of the national lexicon as “incompetent chief executive” or “Weapons of Mass Destruction, my ass.”

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