Once in a blue moon a snooty student will ask me, "Why, professor Blue, sir, however in the world did it come about that you are, dare I say, majestically blue?" I know, it's an odd question to ask a person. It's like asking a mongoose why it's got hair, but it sure wins hands down (feet, too) from that other linguistic oddity: "Professor Blue, sir, what big ears you have." That's when I tell the inquisitive brown-nose admiring my late nineteenth-century mahogany desk to take a seat asap as I try to formulate an answer that somehow doesn't involve Bora Bora, reboots and Star Wars.
Here we go. It's time for a history lesson, and this one won't hurt a bit. Ahem...
"When my great-grandfather, the distinguished millionaire and amateur philosopher Bartholome White II, set foot on Bora Bora after his private ship had sunk to the bottom of the Bora Pacific in 1899, his skin was white as snow. This is a curious fact given that my skin is as blue as that cookie monster tap dancing on Broadway three nights a week. Anyway, all of my great-grandfather's fellow shippals had perished and, instead of a FedEx approved ball called Wilson, all he ever found on that Bora Shora to keep him company was a blue shoe.
Minor detail: not only was my great-grandfather white as virgin snow, and some would say aptly named, he was also very much butt-naked when The Bartholome went down. Why? I hear you ask. Well, because he happened to be taking a very long sea water themed bath with his rubber duck Boba when all of a sudden lightning struck three times and split his ship in half. It's a fact. I kid you not. But luckily he found a blue shoe and guess what.... it was a magic shoe. Yes, sir.
Now, when my great-grandfather found that ordinary-looking shoe, he didn't know it would turn his life upside down ─ as in completely. Let's be honest, it was ugly, it was stinky, and, worst of all, it was a size 8. My great-grandfather's feet very much preferred a manly size 10. Would you believe me if I told you that a whopping nineteen hundred and seventy days had passed when it finally occurred to him that talking to a shoe wasn't such a bad idea after all? So he did. He looked inside that shoe (sniff sniff) and poured his heart out: "Oh Shoe, I'm so lonely! I'm soooooooooooo lonely! Boo hoo hoo! Boo hoo hoo! (Imagine a very manly cry when he went boo hoo hoo.) Boo hoooooo! Now, if only I could somehow (sniff sniff) find my way home. I would do anything! ANYTHING! I would... I would.... boo hoo hooo!"
"Anything?" a minxy voice said.
My great-grandfather was boo hoo hooing so dramatically he didn't hear the voice.
"ANYTHING?" the voice asked again, a bit louder this time. It was Jenny, the voluptuous blue shoe genie.
My great-grandfather dropped his shoeful companion and his face turned whiter than the whitest snow you've ever seen. (That's saying a lot considering that he was really white from head to head to toe.) His heart raced. He couldn't think. He was going mad. He missed his rubber duck. This was it, people. This was the moment he'd been dreading for a whopping nineteen hundred and seventy days: Madness and his uncle Lunacy had snuck up on him and mercilessly and ever so cruelly struck him down, nay, struck him like a ball of lightning and nearly split him in half, too. He was going to sink. Philosopher Bartholome was going down.
To cut a long story short, because I know you want to check your Facebook messages, the blue shoe genie fell in love with my great-grandfather, told him she could teleport him to any place on the planet but he would have to kiss her 10,000 times. Long, sloppy kisses, too. Bartholome, of course, panicked.
"But, but I have a wife!" he pleaded. "I'm married!"
"It's the only way," the naughty genie whispered in his ear, pre-drooling at the thought of 10,000 long and sloppy kisses. I kid you not.
Such was the desperation of my great-grandfather that he, Bartholome II, was wondering if perhaps he had been sniffing that shoe for, well, way too long (1970 days!) and was now seeing things, horny blue genies to be precise. He closed his eyes. Oh c'mon! Horny genies don't exist, and I have never even read about voluptuous genies the size of my manly white legs or the color of ordinary-looking blue shoes. I must have been sniffing that shoe for way too long. But, alas, when he opened his eyes his longing genie was still winking at him and pouting her lips. She was real, all right. Better get to work then. May the kissing commence. A man's got to do what a man's got to do.
Now, here's the most curious part of my great-grandfather's ordeal. Somehow during those 10,000 long and sloppy kisses, all of the genie's blue hue was transferred to my great-grandfather. Call it punishment. Call it a twist of random fate.
"You're white!" he screamed.
"You're blue!" she yelled.
"I'm blue!" he screamed.
"I'm white!" she yelled.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" they both blared, and all the monkeys that had been hiding in the bushes, getting more and more excited on account of those passionate 10,000 long and sloppy kisses, shrieked in unison and fled the premises. Those shameless voyeurs!
To cut this non-Star Wars story about a man who started out solo then ended up with a genie even shorter, the now perfectly snow white shoe lady couldn't unblue her Bartholome, hard as she tried. That white guy could not be rebooted. No, Ma'am. I mean, there are only so many things a genie can do, right? (Some suspect that saucy minx had just plain lied to him and wanted to be white, is all, but there's no evidence to support that absurd non-PC claim.) What that drooling genie did do for sure was snap her voluptuous little fingers and, snap, just like that, she transported my great-grandfather and his shoe to that place he called home.
His wife, my great-grandmother Lily von Brown, this guy's sister, was so happy to see him (even though there was something odd about her brand new husband that she couldn't quite put her finger on) that they made lots of big fat babies and, lo and behold, they all came out blue. The horror! Did I mention my great-grandfather changed his name to Bartholome Blue to avoid mockery? He did.
When my great-grandmother asked him why he was blue, he said he had missed her so much that his heartbroken inside must have somehow become his outside. On other occasions he would simply blame the blue shoe, that stinky Wilson-wannabe which, the truth be told, made it possible for him to make many blue babies, babies who one day would make their own blue babies and one of them would have me, professor Blue. And the stinky shoe that had made all of us blue was given to me by my great-grandfather Bartholome's son, my grandfather El Scoobyvis I.
He said, "Son, this is a very important blue suede shoe. It's a family shoe. Protect it with your life. Guard it with your soul. Cherish it with your left foot." Little Blue was proud to have been bestowed such an important artefact, because an artefact it was. He asked a famous shoemaker called Grandmaster Hatt to make a matching blue shoe so he could wear his magic shoe with pride and not look like an idiot wearing only one shoe. But then a stupid kangaroo stole the magic shoe and it has been lost ever since. Yes, the horror! Needless to say, I've been blue on the inside as well as on the outside ever since. So that's why I am Blue. The end.
Now get out of my office and count pink rabbits."
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Good save on your grandfather's part.
ReplyDeleteNote to self - no blue genie wishes.
Smart thinking.
DeleteAnd Pat will have to explain why the kangaroo didn't turn blue when he tried to eat the shoe. I bet that was like sloppy kisses.
DeleteGood point. Good point.
DeleteKangaroos are immune to blue
DeleteJust so you know, they are immune to yellow and pink too
How come you know
DeleteAt your feline show? :)
Of course immune to Blue...haha
DeleteI knew you would have an answer
Wow! That's quick. Was just thinking of you....
DeleteThe cat tested it in his past life
DeleteOr he could have been told it by Pat's imaginary wife
That must be it
DeleteDoing the testing one two bit
You know, I was completely believing every single word of this amazing little story, but then thought "Wait a minute! Acquired characteristics [like losing an arm] don't get passed on to future generations!" But then, I remembered that a magical being was involved. Yep, makes perfect sense now.
ReplyDeleteHahaha! Yes, it ALL makes perfect sense.
DeleteP.S. You must be telepathic. I was just thinking of reading your last post.
Telepathic? Actually, my being telepathic figures into my latest post!
DeleteI know! I just read it. Weird, right? Well, probably not for you. You saw this one coming a mile away.
Deletethat's not true. All grandparents of mine lost an arm each. I eat with my feet.
Deletethe sky is also green
and Trump is a good president
Adam's facts are factual
DeleteNot old but actual
Kangaroos are sneaky that way. And a size eight wouldn't fit a kangaroo. Probably not even a baby kangaroo. Their feet are BIG.
ReplyDeleteExactly, so that kangaroo was just trying to be funny or maybe it had a wish, too.
Deletehaha so that's how it started
ReplyDeleteTons of sloppy kisses before he departed
Going all genie blue
While she too his white view
Now if only you could catch the kangaroo
Then you could reacquire that shoe
That's how it all started a long, long time ago
DeleteNow all I need to do is catch a kangaroo at my show
But the genie'sout of the shoe so no wishes for me
No Bora beaches in the place to be...
Maybe the kanagaroo wants to trap her back in
DeleteCould work for a sequel spin
A sequel you say?
DeleteWell, not today
Gonna stay on my couch
Like an old grouch
Gonna sit and snore
DeleteCan't ask for more?
Ask I will
DeleteMight pay a bill
Stick out a hand
DeleteMay get a grand
That would be grand
DeleteA grand in my hand!
Hi Blue
ReplyDeleteThis was absolutely amazing. Did I say amazing? Yes, I did amazing. I enjoyed the word play and movie reference. I should have known a genie was involved transferring auras quite the concept. (brilliant)
I smiled all the way through this magical story. Grandmaster Hatt too funny but, darn that mischievous kangaroo came and stole that blue shoe. Well, you know what you need to do. The quest is on. You need to find the blue shoe or the genie as genies never die. They live on and on and on and collect on a vintage wish.
That shoe sure had a lot of sole/soul singing the Blues...
Ok, I am highly amused today...my muse is screaming to get out of her bottle..haha...
That Genie had so much love....10,000 kisses for a wish...
https://youtu.be/WbandQWEOX0
Never give up on dreams or should I say wishes?
Clapping...and that folks is the story of how Professor Blue became a magnificent shade of blue..
You know how to make a blue guy smile. No, never give up on dreams and wishes. We will find our way to Bora, True. It's all about the journey, though I wouldn't mind arriving there and touching the sand an taking in the beauty of it all. Yes, that genie knew how to trade wishes.
DeleteThe quest is on.
Thank you for reading this post, which by the way was inspired by... you. You told me to write again, so I did. How did you get this powerful anyway?
P.S. Did I mention that the genie is still on Bora?
I don't believe you mentioned that Blue
Deletenow, I think that is an important clue
along with that ship that sunk in two
could there be another blue shoe....
Could it be?
DeleteWell, Scooby Dooweeee!
Off we go
To that Bora show
Hi Blue I was pondering a question you put before me and I may have used it birthing a poem;) I love it when you make my mind wander...
DeleteThe pleasure is all mine.
DeleteDang kangaroo! I'll keep an eye out for a blue kangaroo. I'm sure that one will be the culprit.
ReplyDeleteAwesome story! You had me chuckling.
That means a lot coming from a real author. Thank you, Sherry.
DeleteLoved the story! Now you need to become Mr. Blue Private Eye and find that missing kangaroo.
ReplyDeleteIt's a fact! Private Eye Blue is on a mission.
DeleteIs this a case of, 'There's never a dumb question'?
ReplyDeleteWell....
DeleteFrom here on out,
ReplyDeleteWhenever I go out,
I'll be on the lookout
For a stupid kangaroo
With a magic shoe.
And if I find him,
I'll mail him back to you.
Mail him once
DeleteMail him twice
That would be nice
Kangaroos and mayhem go hand-in-hand. Or is it pouch-in-pouch?
ReplyDeleteElsie
The first. :)
Deleteare you saying we should rub stinky shoes? Aren't there better things to rub?
ReplyDeleteNaughty as always. Yes, there are.
DeleteThis is a fantastic story Blue! I love it! Thanks for the smile! I think Detective Blue should go find the shoe!
ReplyDeleteAh it's detective Blue now... Hmmmmm I like the sound of that.
Deleteheee heeee heeeee, if it weren't for that darn kangeroo, you are a storyteller of note.
ReplyDeleteOh don't make me blush! (Yes, make me blush heee heeee heeeeee!)
DeleteGood to hear from you again.
Do you think the blue genie from Aladdin was your ancestor's ex-husband? It's all starting to make sense now
ReplyDeleteTHAT'S IT!
DeleteClick some slick!
ReplyDeleteGrandma Genie
Well, Scooby Dooweee...
DeleteCould it be?
That it may
DeleteRecalled Genie had a girl back in the day
And thanks for the review too!
DeleteI didn't know but now I do
DeleteHe had a girl at his shoe
They, too, should read about the old guy
Who couldn't fly
But made people gossip
And flip.
One episode he had one
DeleteThen away she did run
But "what is seen is not always true."
DeleteWho am I quoting (not Scooby Doo)?
Fascinating story Blue ~ You have the gift and gab of storytelling ~ Cheers ~
ReplyDeleteThat means a lot coming from a gifted writer like you.
DeleteWait. You mean this story is NOT true? Oh boohoo! And damn that Kangaroo!
ReplyDeleteIt IS true. I am impressed by your boo hoo hoo.
DeleteGood to hear from you again.