Woodstock, Vermont
Vote for me, George McGeorge of Quechee Gorge.
That campaign slogan became justly famous as perhaps the best political campaign slogan ever created and while men were not really sure as to what the slogan meant or what policies were favored by McGeorge it was as catchy and memorable as “I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Weiner..” and one can be sure that if Petrov was still alive he'd be thinking that if a candidate named, Oscar Meyer, were on the same ballot as an opponent of George McGeorge the average Woodstock voter, once having entered the booth, would not leave it until about ten years after so difficult would be the choice.
But, voters in Vermont are like any other voter in any other state in These United States- they really don't know what the hell is going on or for whom they should vote; Hmm should I vote for what's-his-face...I think he's only been in prison once... Nah, I'm a vote for George McGeorge of Quechee Gorge, maybe that will help get that damn slogan out of me head; it's making me mental.
It was the newly elected State Representative George McGeorge of Queeche Gorge who convinced the good folk of Woodstock to ban the poetry of Robert Frost from the library and the schools, memorably saying I don’t want my son to take a magic bullet in his grille just because he read some Robert Frost poems.
When The Town Manager of Woodstock, Moe Lester, said George now you are just being silly George clinched the argument by observing the obvious; Is that so Moe? Then how do you explain the fact that JFK both loved Robert Frost and got assassinated, Huh?
The Town Meeting crowd erupted with cheers and sustained applause and outside of the hall not a few youth lighted M-80s and dropped them in the US Postal Service Mail Box, the same type of box Trump and his MAGA men had stolen in Oregon and Washington so people couldn't vote by mail.
Whatever...
This lovely town is not to be confused with The Woodstock of the infamous days of downpours, drugs and decadency; the days when a young man from England got up on stage and began playing his guitar at a furious pace and he played so long that the stoners in the crowd said Since the first note was played it has been ten years after and Hey he’s like said he is going home about a million times now, and yet he is still here; What the heck? as something... something... something... butterflies above the nation.
The Girls of Woodstock.
That was the poem that George McGeorge of Queeche Gorge quoted that really set on edge the teeth of The Fathers of the Town and the Fathers of the young women of Woodstock because they remembered their desires back when they were teens.
However, the Mothers of the young women of Woodstock, recognizing a bit of their own selves in the poem, silently vowed to their own selves to Take a switch to her for parading her little ass all around town like that.
Robert Frost's The Girls of Woodstock.
The girls of Woodstock are hot to trot,
Wear miniskirts, smoke shit tons of pot.
Have nice asses, swiggle hips when they walk.
Love to go parking, no strangers to skiing.
At the back of the Town Meeting Hall a sullen Korean War Vet, Ethan Allen, was carving the initials WWPT - What Would Petrov Think - into his wooden leg.
His frustrated Mom, Mary Mallon Allen, had named him Ethan because, as she confided to her friends, He’ll prolly be like his old man, from start to finish, knocking me up in less than a minute.
Men were of two opinions about the cause of the silence and irritability of Ethan Allen. Some thought it was only natural the Vet would be like he was because that War had shattered his nerves while about as many other men thought he was bitter and easily irked because what he rightly considered to be a legacy due him - his monetary inheritance from his grandfather - had been lost in a speculative venture of Pops, the printing of thousands of T-Shirts that read "Hiroshima Strong"which did not sell as well as expected.
In any event, most men were in agreement about Frost and his poetry.
It is interesting to note that it was not in Woodstock Vermont alone where the poem caused controversy and why Frost fell out of favor with seceding generations and was banned from every library in America, except for the Library Van in Woodstock, New York which is still driven slowly up and down down the streets by Wavy Gravy as he plays "I'm going home" and I'm fixing to die rag" over his loudspeakers.
Frost read his poem at one of the inaugural balls and while Jack and Teddy laughed uproariously, in a corner of the ballroom a thoughtful and passionate Bobby Kennedy passionately grimaced and thought If the negroes gets wind of this all hell’s gonna break loose. I must investigate him…
As this was going on Rafer Johnson had wheeled a mute old man Joseph P. Kennedy into the kitchen in the wheelchair in which he was confined because of a stroke and left him there to the graces of the children of the Kennedy Clan who began covering him with spray cheese while singing
John-John needs a brand new sled
we can’t wait til Granddaddy’s dead.
Here is the thing about John Fitzgerald Kennedy. ABS knows all of the BS about vim and vigor and Camelot but the plain and simple truth is that before he was forty the bastid had seen more strange ass then a ladies toilet seat in a Texaco Restroom in Terlingua, Texas..
If you don't believe ABS, just read this summary of his madman speech, A.K.A. Inauguration:
Something...something...something...liberty and God…
Let every nation know, something...something...something.. we shall pay any price, bear any burden, something...something... something... liberty..
Something...something...something...loyalty, colonial power, riding the back of the Tiger…something... something...something...United Nations..Ask not what your country is sending you overseas to fight for, ask for something...something...something...
I have been informed by America’s top scientists at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory where, even as we speak, scores of scientists are boiling hundreds of Jackson Laboratory Mice in beakers to determine if our brave astronauts, all of whom are white men who dig chicks, can blast through the Van Allen Belt without burning their asses off. The truth is, we don’t know and we will never know. And so America, which now has the technology to do so, will fake a moon landing and if in ten years if I am not in Danang drinking Tang with them Commie bastids, you can kiss my ass.
The concluding paragraph was cut from the official speech after one of JFK’s advisors, the one who was not eating LSD like it was Pez Candy, McGeorge Bundy, was able to convince JFK that if this last paragraph was spoken publicly it would really piss off the peasants; take it from me, a man whose first name is McGeorge, that you do not want to go there…”
Summing up, ABS would just like to say that Woodstock, Vermont is a beautiful little town of roughly 3000 souls and, if you have a million dollars or so to put down on a home, you too could live a safe and happy life.