Excerpt from Satirical History of MICHIGAN
NEW “ALL-TOO-TRUE-BLUE” (ALTERNATIVE) STATE HISTORIES
TIME IMMEMORIAL— Glaciers, Mastodons, Paleo-Indians and So On
Long before microwave ovens and television, when a buck was still silver, glaciers galumphed across the middle of Michigan, causing it to separate the State into “Michigan Proper” (where autoworkers and musicians live), and the U.P. (or “Upper Peninsula” for the uninitiated) where deer hunters and ice fishermen abound.
The glaciers also spit out Mackinac Island like a watermelon seed being pinched by a manic 3rd grader. The dizzy island landed with a plop (making more of a “ploop” sound, really) in the midst of Lake Michigan.
Then came Mastodons, who ate the glaciers (that’s what really happened to the glaciers – they didn’t just melt), and after that the Paleo-Indians, who ate the Mastodons.
Finally, the wolverines arrived. These fun-loving mammals spent most of their time chasing lagomorphs. This caused these bunnies to eventually flee en masse to the Gulf of Mexico, where they boarded floating vessels fashioned from banana leaves. In due time they landed in Australia, which now has too many rabbits. All because of the wolverines.
This is actually just conjecture, but we all know it’s true. It’s called The Wolverine Theory (that a wolverine chasing a rabbit in Michigan can cause a mass migration to the land down under).
Here’s a wolverine looking in vain for a rabbit:
The wolverines shouldn’t have pigged out on rabbits; now the tasty lagomorphs are all gone from Michigan.The last one was killed by a lady in Michael Moore’s laugh-a-minute comedy “Roger and Me”
1805 — Territoryhood
Michigan became a Territory in 1805. When the Michiganders (women from Michigan are called Michiganders; men from Michigan are called Michigooses) found out about this, they felt it was as good a reason as any to have a big Whoop-Jamboree, so they contracted with Phileas Fogg to go aloft in a balloon and take a picture of Michigan Territory from the stratosphere.
In order to signify a clear demarcation between the land and the water, the Michiganders purchased a gaggle of squid and octopi, and “milked” them of their ink to blacken up the Great Lakes, as you can tell in the infrared/ultraviolet photo above.
1837 — Free Statehood
Michigan became a State in 1837. To keep “expensive” and “free” states equal in number, Michigan came in as a free State to make up for Arkansas declaring itself an expensive State when it joined the Union a few months earlier.
Trying to save a buck, the government hired the artist who came in with the lowest bid to design the official stamp of Michigan. This cheap-shot artist obviously knew absolutely nothing about wildlife. As you can see below, he drew a picture of two deer, but mistakenly thought that they were marine creatures, referring to them as the “State Seal” in the stamp’s verbiage:
1924 -- “So Big”
Kalamazoo’s Edna Ferber won the Pulitzer Prize in 1924 for her novel “So Big,” which was only known to belles lettres students, literary critics, and prize-givers until 1988, when it was made into a movie directed by Henny Penny Marshall and starring Tom Hanks, Nickelback (all of them), Dimebag Darrell, 50 Cent, Johnny Cash, and Johnny Paycheck.
Not one to rest on her laurels, Ferber wrote another book in 1926 which attracted some attention. Specifically, that book, “Show Boat” was also made into a movie. Three times, in fact: in 1929, 1936, and 1951.
Here is the scene from Show Boat where there is a “wardrobe malfunction” and those in the peanut gallery (the “cheap seats”) are clamoring for an explanation for the cad-like behavior of the leading man, who had “accidentally” caused the malfunction:
Ferber grew up in the town that invented the kazoo (Kalamazoo) and became a virtuoso on that instrument in grade school, but turned to writing as a “fallback option” after her band instructor informed her that there was no future for her as a professional kazooist.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough at it, he explained to her; there just were no professional kazoo openings in any orchestras or ragtime bands at the time. Or ever would be.
And he was right about that.
1937 — Flint Sit-Down Strike
In 1937, in the future hometown of Grand Funk (Railroad) and Michael Moore, the auto workers conducted what they called a “Sit-Down Strike.”
A “Sit-Down Strike” is when a worker sits down every time he sees a manager, hears a manager, or even thinks about a manager.
The workers were sitting down practically all the time, because when they didn’t see their managers or hear them, they were wondering where they were, and so, were thinking about them. Although they continued working, it was like having a team of midgets on the job.
Thus, resignedly, General Motors (which, despite its misleading name, doesn’t limit itself to mass-producing cars for Generals; they also make motors for Corporals, Privates, Leftenants, Drummer Boys, Buglers, and Captains) recognized the UAW (Unilaterally Asynchronous Welshmen).
This made the auto workers happy for some reason, and they stood up.
In the picture below, taken by a General Motors surveillance drone, you can see that not all of the workers saw, heard, or were thinking about the managers. Those that were had Lazy-boys to lounge in.
The cat on the far left is checking his cellphone for how many “likes” he got for his latest post about the strike.
1941 — “1913 Massacre”
Somewhere around 1941, Woody Guthrie wrote the song 1913 Massacre. The ballad tells about what is popularly known as “The Italian Hall Disaster,” which took place in the U.P.’s copper country, in Calumet.
The so-called “disaster” was that they ran out of spaghetti at the potluck dinner. Each woman there thought the others were surely bringing spaghetti, and so they ended up with too much Italian Wedding Soup but no spaghetti.
This led to a cacophonous melee and general free-for-all.
In an attempt to steer the focus of the spaghetti-deprived belligerents onto a different track, a P.E. coach on the scene quickly drew up a basketball play for them to run, to “burn off their energy.” A tireless historical researcher has discovered a copy of it in an old lady’s attic and retrieved it for us:
The made-for-Sesame-Street song (“1913 Massacre”) has also been performed by Arlo Guthrie (no relation to Woody), Gamblin’ Jack Elliott Ness, and Italian rapper Raw B. Zimmermoni.
1959 — Motown Records Formed
Tired of working at the auto plant, in 1957 Chuck Berry and Gordon Lightfoot got together and formed Motown Records.
To introduce their “brand” to the world, the first recording they released under their label Tamil was a duet, “Wreck of the Johnny B. Goode.”
Eventually, though, Berry and “Gordy” attracted and developed other artists, such as Oscar Robertson & the Miracles, Little Stevie Wonder Bread, The Supremiums, The Four Bottoms, and The Trials, who had a crossover hit song called “Papa Was a Beatle” (despite the group’s provocative name, we are aware of no related paternity suits, which are a little different from maternity suits).
Here are The Trials practicing the aforementioned song in their mothers’ basement:
1967 — Race Riots
1967 saw race riots break out in Detroit. This was a rumble between the Mods and the Rockers (some mistakenly think the conflict involved the Jets and the Sharks, but those gangs are located in New York and San Jose, not Detroit).
The cause of the riot was a bitter dispute over who won the footrace between Pete “Charlie Muscle” Rosehips and Ricky “Hollywood” Henderson. Rose was a Mod, and Henderson was a Rocker.
The two sides finally laid their differences to rest when the police showed up and threatened them with having to listen to Barry Manifold “music” blasted out of the police megaphones if they didn’t cease and desist. They ceased. And desisted. Let this be a lesson to Wannabe-Peacemakers everywhere: just threaten to “go nuclear” with Barry Manifold, and nary a belligerent will remain unmoved.
Phil Cherner shares this picture of what happened to the police station when they rehearsed “the nuclear option” during roll call (even all the donuts got blown to smithereens):
The strains of “Mandy Patinkin,” “I Write the Drivel,” “I Can’t Frown Without You,” and “Copacetic Banana” put such a strain on the police station that it buckled, bent, bowed, and ballooned out to the point of bursting.
1969 — Grand Funk Forms
In the final year of the 1960s, the band Grand Funk Railroad formed in Flint.
Since their members were Mark Farmer, Don Brewer, and Mel Shaker, rather than having to suffer through their first years as starving artists, they didn’t have to ever worry about not having enough veggies, beer, or furniture.
Bassist Shaker also owned Mel’s Diner, so they could always eat there for free, too.
The band (who later added Frosty the Snowman on keyboards) penned and played elevator music such as “I’m Your Ensign/Closer to Homely,” “We’re Practically a Canadian Band,” “Walk Like an Egyptian Man,” “Stinkfootin’ Music,” and “Shinin’ Shoes.”
Here you can see the drummer/brewer, guitarist/farmer, and bassist/furniture maker back when they had hair and lots of it:
1975 – Ted Nougat’s Eponymous Album
The king of subtlety, Ted Nougat, unleashed himself on the world in 1975 with his eponymous album (named simply “Ted Nougat Croons Your Favorite Easy Listening Tunes”). He humbly stated that he hoped it would be seen as being almost as good as Lawrence Welk’s lesser works.
That album, the quintessence of elevator music, featured such ditties and jingles as “Manglehandle” (a song about ironing his duds in a motel room before a big concert), “Stormchasin’,” “Hey Infant,” “Just What the Intern Ordered,” “Snake Indians,” “Motor City Waffle House,” and “Queen Zenobia.”
1976 — Bob Cigar’s “Live Bull” Album
Michigan has perhaps produced more great music than any other State, especially for its size. A lot of great music has come out of California, without a doubt; Texas, too; but Michigan at least gives them a run for their money.
Another example of stellar music from the Wolverine State is that made by Bob Cigar. In 1976, he and his Silver Bull Band put out their “Live Bull” Album.
Although he only has two-fifths as many “e”s in his name as his uncle Pete Seeger, Bob showed his songwriting prowess on this album, performing (amongst others, of course) “Beautiful Winner,” “Turn the Page, Already,” “Travelin’ Man” (not the Rick Nelson song), and “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” (not the Allman Brothers song).
Cigar was just getting started, though. Later songs of his included “Against The Wind Cries Mary,” “Old Time Ragtime,” “Like a Pebble,” “Evening Moves,” “We’ve Got to Say ‘Nighty Night’,” “Still Different,” “Feel Like a Letter,” and “Rock & Roll...What Was I Gonna Say?”
Here’s Bob and the boys in the (Silver Bull) band:
Tommy Timpani, Kyle Kazoo, Charlie Cello, Dave Dulcimer, Oliver Oboe, and Bob “Guitar” Cigar. Not a slouch in the bunch.
. . .
Each Saturday and Tuesday an excerpt of one State’s (satirized) history will be posted here, in alphabetical order (from Alabama to Wyoming).
For “the rest of the story,” the (32-page) complete book “The New All-too-True-Blue History of Michigan” is available here.
The regions of the U.S. have been combined into volumes, too; [State] is included in the volume The New All-too-True-Blue History of the American Midwest
You can listen to this excerpt here:
Blackbird Crow Raven is also the author of the book “the Zany Time Travels of Warble McGorkle”