Plinka-planka-plunka!

It’s an event I’ll never forget.

The almighty Bluster-King was coming to visit on his GeezerGlide.
I was outside mowing lawn when I heard a great commotion down the street.
Birds scattered; cows over the hill reared up and ran for the barn. The neighbor across the street gathered up his young daughter from the back yard and headed inside his house.
“Plinka-planka-plunka!” Sorry neighbors; sorry all-and-sundry. My brother is coming down the road; noisily serenading the entire countryside with his plinka-planka-plunka.
He arrows his noisy GeezerGlide into our driveway, and then parks it inside the garage he claims Ty Pennington and his buxom minions should blow up.
He strides with great flourish in the door, his Red-Wing seven-league boots loudly clomping.
Tracy is on the Castro-Convertible.
Jack starts barking orders at her.
Tracy looks at him, and then at me; as if to ask “who let the blowhard in?”
“Am I supposed to listen to this guy?”
She got up off the Castro-Convertible, and ran for cover; tail between her legs.

“The almighty Bluster-King” is my macho, loudmouthed brother Jack from Boston.

“GeezerGlide” is what I call all Harley Davidson ElectraGlide cruiser-bikes. My loudmouthed macho brother-in-Boston has a very laid back Harley Davidson cruiser-bike, and, like most Harley Davidson riders, is 50 years old. So I call it his GeezerGlide. It has an on-board audio, and he loudly plays country-music while riding.

RE: “the garage he claims Ty Pennington and his buxom minions should blow up........” He loudly claims our house was poorly engineered, since it was me not him that designed it, so it should be blown up for “Extreme Home Mayhem.”

“Tracy” is one of the dogs, an Irish-Setter, we had before our two most recent. By then she was alone, and she died a few years ago.