Sunday, December 09, 2007

Mrs Wagner's pies

Moving swiftly on from the introspection of that last distasteful article, I am relieved to see that eccentricity is a pastime that spans the ocean.

I am delighted that my friends at WNEM in Saginaw, Michigan, have taken the trouble to report the following:

The 2008 Guinness World Records book honors the 29-year-old McKnight for living to tell about being thrown 118 feet after being hit by a car. McKnight was standing along a highway about 15 miles east of Pittsburgh on Oct. 26, 2001, helping victims of a car wreck when he was hit by a car doing 70 mph.

He suffered two dislocated shoulders plus a broken shoulder, pelvis, leg and tailbone. His injuries put him in the hospital for two weeks, followed by 80 days in rehab, before returning to work in April 2002.

This seems to be a lot of trouble to go to in order to get one's name in print. At one point I contacted the said publication in order to see how many more people to whom I would have be rude in order to gain an entry, but when I addressed them as misbegotten sons of rat’s miscarriages, they refused to furnish me with the required data. I will certainly not be bothering them again, let alone take part in any activity that might involve my discomfort.

The article does not mention whether Mr McKnight was an accomplished jumper of any sort. Nor does it say whether he lay there in agony until a representative of Guinness arrived to accurately measure the distance. It would be churlish to suggest that he took the time to crawl an extra few feet. I am not sure how long it took Mr Guinness to arrive, and I would not begrudge Mr McKnight a couple of feet in his condition. Had he shown a little initiative, he could have claimed that he had been propelled all the way into his hospital bed by the accident. Thick twat.

The only thing that I know about Saginaw is that it took Paul Simon 4 days to hitchhike from there. The song implies that he was travelling to Pittsburgh, a distance of some 290 miles. He must have been as good a hitchhiker as he is a songwriter. The drivers on that route were obviously afraid that he would read some of his lyrics to them if they gave him a lift. I estimate that he could have made the trip by being involved in 12977 accidents such as that experienced by Mr McKnight, assuming of course that each car was able to propel him in the direction of Pittsburgh. That may have taken more than 4 days to accomplish, but may have provided him with the suffering necessary to have the perspective to be able to write good songs.

26 comments:

Pamela said...

Glad to hear you're over that whole messy introspection thing. It was most unbecoming.

Now, where were we?

Vicus Scurra said...

"Now, where were we?" sounds just like the sort of introspection that I was decrying, if you don't mind my saying.

Dave said...

Did you know that the subject of your title is also a record-holder (as well, obviously, as being mentioned on a record), as they were the largest pie bakery in the country (I assume by this they mean the USA) with its home plant in Newark (presumably the one in the USA, although they would certainly be widespread if they meant the one in Nottinghamshire) and five branches as far west as Chicago?

I, like the view said...

I don't know where you all are, but I'm still paitently queueing for a Kaliyuga Kristmas Kard

*wiggles mistletoe about hopefully*

I, like the view said...

(oh, and would it be rude to ask what flavour Mrs W's pie is?)

Vicus Scurra said...

ILTV. The Kard is just what it says.
A card. How do I get it to you? Silly girl.
And apple, I hope.

Pamela said...

No worries. I'm eschewing all forms of introspection this coming year.

Reg Pither said...

I think the late Messrs McWhirters' interest in Ronnie McKnight centred more on the fact that he apparently has three three shoulders, not to mention a "tailbone" which not only puts him somewhat lower on the evolutionary tree than he would choose to be but which must also make buying comfortable trousers a real nightmare.
I don't know whether you know this but the next entry in that ubiquitous Christmas present-of-a-book is that Lord Mountbatten's plimpsoles hold the record for the greatest distance travelled by canvas deck shoes following an explosion at sea.

Reg Pither said...

(The second version of that comment was for blind readers.)

Vicus Scurra said...

Assuming that Reg had made a mistake and was not attempting some halfassed attempt at a world record, I deleted a duplicate comment in order to hide his embarrassment. However he then posted another comment about and now looks really dumb.
That'll learn him to take the piss out of the royal family.

Reg Pither said...

"Dumb"! "Halfassed"!! You've turned, admit it. You're sitting out on the porch in your dungarees, strumming that banjo and telling passers-by to "Git the Hell offa maaa laynd!!"
Why not just say "stupid" and "moronic"? Mrs Pither always does.

Vicus Scurra said...

There, there, Reg, don't take on so. I will not apologise for adopting the global vernacular, and if I lived in the part of the world that you do, I would make sure that I made every effort to avoid speaking like the locals.

Gordie said...

There is a rather tedious discussion of Mrs Wagner's Pies on Art Garfunkel's website.

Vicus Scurra said...

Thank you, Gordie, in my view you can never have enough tedium. I would not recommend it as an exclusive pastime, but there is nothing like something really boring to help pass these awful evenings when it is impossible to turn on the fucking television without some fucker talking about the fucking festive fucking season or listening to fucking Slade or some other fucker singing fucking awful fucking drivel.
Bless you.

Reg Pither said...

Talking of the vernacular, my old (as in former) chemistry teacher used to say that I was fascinated by a strange but as yet undiscovered Australian marsupial because whenever I walked into his class I apparently used to say "worra gorra do?" Oh, the fun we had!

homo escapeons said...

Lucky bastard McKnight is currently languishing in his Guinessian Fame and apparently, thanks to the fact that he no longer has a single intact bone in his skeletal infrastructure, will perform on demand at cocktail parties, a wicked impersonation of Virgil Tracy from the much beloved Thunderbirds supermarinaion show.

I, like the view said...

how come gordie gets a "bless you" and I only get "silly girl". . .

*sulks*

*whilst still waiting patiently with the mistletoe*

(aren't you emailing the Kard? or do you want my real location. . .)

I, like the view said...

(ok, I just reread the post script below. . . I am a little silly, aren't I?!)

Vicus Scurra said...

Yes.

Vicus Scurra said...

You will note that being the festive season, I did not quibble about the "a little".

I, like the view said...

Kards and No Quibbles

does your generosity have an end? actually, don't answer that. . .

Dyna Girl said...

all the way to the hospital bed would have been something. I am more fascinated by things like the longest (rank) fingernails. I know, deep.

ziggi said...

hello

I, like the view said...

ooh! Dyna!! I bought my middle child the Guiness Book of Records for his birthday this week, see page 141

Dave said...

Huzzah!! The card arrived today. Love the Facebook bit. May have to use it on Christmas Day in lieu of a sermon. LOL.

Vicus Scurra said...

Please direct your congregation to the church of Scurra after the service, instead of the pub as is normal, and I will continue to educate them.