Luncheon Dust-Up at Gumpwood CC Proves that Apes Evolved from Club Members

Gumpwood f/k/a MCC: Scene of the Great Poking Incident of 2014

Now that our local Snobatorium located at the terminus of Fairview Avenue is no longer restricted, I have greatly enjoyed many a lunch there at the "Captains Table" in the "Men's Grill" with the manly men at my same station in life.  The  lunch buffet there is truly a thing of culinary beauty reasonably priced. (Aha, the connection to a Lunch in the Gump theme). The conversation is keen, spirited and conservative.  But, as we have previously noted in a prior post, lunch at Gumpwood CC can sometimes involve unabashed buffoonery and perhaps even an occasional kerfuffle. However, the correspondence from the participants in a recent dust-up have documented events so bizarre that acknowledging they occurred at your club would embarrass even the low-born members of what used to be called Bonnie Crest Country Club (soon to be a Wal-Mart) and perhaps even the usual rabble at Sundown East-home of "The Beast."

The protagonists--long time members of Gumpwood and the legal profession (I suppose I now use that term pejoratively)--were former members of the same law firm. One of them, as you will recall from a previous post, has the grace and tact of a Honey Badger. The other has an ego that can fill any room. It has been said they deserved each other as partners. In any event, apparently on Oct. 1, 2014, these two bull moose had to be separated by a Marine staffer after some harsh and profane words were exchanged.  (One wag lamented that instead of separating them the Marine should have furnished each man a trenching tool.) However, due to the Marine's quick and brave action a true altercation was avoided and one would have hoped that when the dust settled these two attorneys would shake hands and make up.

Of course, for one to hope for a civilized resolution of hostilities between these two "gentlemen" it would require complete amnesia of their past history. For in truth, the end of physical hostilities was only the beginning of a bizarre display of literary buffoonery the likes of which Gumpwood has never before seen.

First came the account from the alleged victim of the Honey Badger.  It was written upon his formal law firm letterhead to the president of Gumpwood. It was by and large a blow by blow account of the events written without a hint of embarrassment. After naming all the witnesses to the dust-up, the author recounted that as he returned to the table with a plate of food the Honey Badger yelled: "You Mother F*er don't you ever send me a letter like you sent me or I am going to whip your ass!." Incorrectly thinking it was a joke the victim ignored the Honey Badger. But that only enraged the Honey Badger who pointed his boney finger yelling "You Mother F*er" while charging to the end of the table. The Badger then invited the author to "go outside so I can whip your ass right now."

At this point, perhaps, I should remind you that these two stalwarts of the legal profession are not 17 or 7 but each about 70 years old.

Here I will simply quote the victim:

"Everyone in the room watched (Honey Badger's) tirade. It is well know that (the Honey Badger) carries a pistol in his car and I am now highly nervous at how I am going to be able to use the facilities where I have been going for 40 years. I am over 70, diabetic and have had a triple bypass.  I do not intend to have my life end at Gumpwood Country Club being assaulted by (the Honey Badger), a known bully and blow hard."

The victim ended his correspondence with a plea to the good judgment of the club president as to how to address the "assault" of the Honey Badger ("I actually think his finger poked me in the chest.")  Although criminal charges were considered, the victim developed some modicum of judgment and decided not to press charges because it would only drag his witness friends further into the middle of  "this absurdity."

One would like to also assume the victim's letter was not intended for public consumption.  Not so with the response of the Honey Badger who, after apparently mulling over whether to respond for a few days, on Oct. 7 set the tone of his letter to the club president in the second sentence when he replied with accusations of unethical and deceitful conduct. This letter, and the letter to which it responds, began circulating the internet shortly after Oct. 7.

It got even more personal. The victim's appeal to sympathy due to his age and medical problems carried no weight with the Honey Badger: "I am so sorry [the victim] is a diabetic and I suggest he quit stuffing his fat little toady face and get in shape.  [The victim] being 70 means nothing to me. I am 71 and have chosen not to deteriorate into an amoeba-shaped squid."

The above statements appeared on the letterhead of the same law firm in which the victim had previously been a partner.

Having thoroughly insulted his victim, the Honey Badger went on to essentially agree with every fact set forth by the victim EXCEPT the "poking" claim. While admitting he had about all he could take from "this limaceous cretin," the Honey Badger emphatically denied touching the cretin because: "I learned a long time ago to never put one's hand in garbage."

"See here you limaceous cretin!"

The one bright light in all of this came in the form of an anonymous "editorial" in the "Montgomery Egadvertiser." The editorial first reminded the reader of the famous Scopes "Monkey Trial" of 1925 which escalated the long standing debate between creationists and evolutionists.  The editorial noted:

"In an ironic twist, a related matter was partially and inadvertently settled during the first week of October in the Men's Grill at the Gumpwood Country Club in Montgomery, Alabama. Two septuagenarian members, while not addressing the question of whether man evolved from monkeys, did prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt that, in at least two instances, monkeys did certainly evolve from human beings. This episode also provides empirical evidence that not having the oxygen level set high enough on your CPAP machine will assuredly result in irreversible brain damage. Furthermore, it debunked the belief that there is no way that the food in the Men's Grill could ever be made any more unappetizing. Spectators report that the events of that day were reminiscent of scenes at the old Copa Club on a Saturday Night at closing time during the 70's. "

The gratuitous dig at the food in the Men's Grill was, in my opinion, a cheap shot but the other observations are spot on.

Our anonymous author concluded:

"Well no one can envy the Gumpwood Board of Directors who will have to mediate this dispute. It's kind of like trying to choose the cleanest sheet in the Ebola Clinic in Liberia."

Did I mention Gumpwood is having a membership drive?

Unused name tags at Montgomery County Bar Association Holiday Party

Semper Pie: Mrs B's Home Cooking and the Corps

I have a deep respect for the Marine Corps or, more specifically, Marines. In 1945 my father was 17 when as a private in the 5th Marine Division he came ashore on Iwo Jima and eventually earned a Bronze Star leading what was left of is company from pill box to pill box. He witnessed the flag being raised on Mt. Suribachi...both times...and lived to tell about it. Only he wouldn't.

Flash forward to 2011 and a close friend's son-in-law, a Marine Harrier pilot, has just deployed for his first combat action in Afghanistan. "From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli..." We are all praying for his safe return.

I had no idea, when the LITG gang arrived for the first time at Mrs B's Home Cooking on Cullman Street, that my respect for the Marine Corps and my appreciation of fresh southern vegetables, cornbread and fried chicken could both be enjoyed at the same time.

Like most Marines, the outward appearance of Mrs. B's may not appear inviting. The neighborhood is not great, the old house Mrs. B's occupies had seen better days and there was a sign posted that said simply: "Cook Wanted." Like some Marines, the Facebook page for Mrs. B's evidenced someone whose strongest attributes did not include writing or grammar. For example:

"I THANK EVERYBODY SUPPORT MRS B'S OPEN ONN SUNDY ALSO FROM 11 TO 4 TODAY WE HAVE TURKER, BAKE DRESSING, OX TAILS, SMOTHER PORK CHOP, FRIED CHICKEN, CHITTLING, COLLARD GREEN CABBAGE GREENS, MAC/CHEESE, STEAM OKRA, FRIED CORN, YYYAMS, RICE, SQUASH CASS, CORN BREAB, ROLL AND DESSERT ETC. PLEASE SEND THIS TO YOUR THAT DON'T NO ABOUT MRS B'S DON'T KEEP IT TO YOURSELF THANK YOU."

However, also true to the Marines, once you get past the outward appearances and reveal the core of the people and place involved, you realize they are special. Marines do things and don't necessarily talk about them very well, if at all. As soon as I saw the man greeting us I knew he was a Marine (there are no "former" Marines). It was the way he carried himself. And everyone working in this place appeared either to be part of a very close family or disciplined to make every guest feel that everyone working there were part owners.

To me, Mrs. B's is a special place. The interior of Mrs B's has been restored with love, hard work and an attention to detail. The steam table is short and full of what people used to call "soul food" but today we recognize as southern home-style cooking. For eight bucks (including tea) you receive a plate full of fresh vegetables and your choice of meat and cornbread. As a connoisseur of the latter I can affirm it's quality. The pie for dessert was also excellent. The next time I go back I might even try the oxtails. I would trust them to be the best oxtails in Montgomery.

But the memory I carry from my visit to Mrs. B's was looking up from a very tasty plate of food toward a Marine Corps flag and seeing on the wall the pictures of what appeared to be the four sons and daughters of the owner.

They were all young Marines.

Like my father.



Semper fi.