Tagged tickets

“Blurtso has an eventful flight”


I’m sorry, said the flight attendant, passengers are allowed only one carry-on trombone.


I’m sorry, said Blurtso, my ticket doesn’t have a seat number. It’s open seating, said the attendant. Open seating? said Blurtso. Yes, said the attendant, you can sit anywhere you like…


Excuse me, said the attendant, but you may have to check that… Hello, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re going to be delayed a few hours on the tarmac…


It’s a zoo in here!


I’m sorry, said the attendant, no electrical devices during takeoff.


Would you like something to drink? said the attendant. No thank you, said Blurtso, but I would like something to read. We have a variety of newspapers, said the attendant. Do you have the Farmer’s Almanac? said Blurtso.


Yes, said the attendant, did you change your mind about the drink? No, said Blurtso, but I’d like to exchange my peanuts for pumpkin seeds.


Yes, said Blurtso, the vegetarian meal is mine.


Hello, said the customs agent. Are you bringing any fruit into the country? Vegetables, plants, seeds, or insects? How about animals or wildlife products? Cell cultures? Snails? Soil? Have you been on a farm or in close proximity of livestock? Fruit? said Blurtso. No, I don’t have any fruit.

“Blurtso enjoys his palapa”

Wow, that was quite a night… I probably shouldn’t have danced on the table, or swung from the chandelier, but I was so happy when the Nachos arrived.


I wonder if the sand is hot? It was warm four hours ago. The breeze is nice. It feels good on my ears. It’s hard to hear over the waves. I can see Pablo talking with the parasailing people, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I wonder if he’s going for a ride? I wonder if I should have another pumpkin-colada? The first one was excellent. And the second and third ones were even better. I wonder if I should call for the waiter? Wow! There goes Pablo! He’s really soaring! I hope he’s strapped in. I wonder what it’s like up there? I wonder if he can see me? I wonder if he can see the waiter? Maybe he can get the waiter’s attention. He seems to be waving his hooves quite wildly. He must be signaling the waiter. What a good friend. My pumpkin-colada will be here soon.

“Pablo does Pablomeo”


She brays!
Oh, bray again, bright angel!

Pablómeo, Pablómeo,
wherefore art thou Pablómeo?

Pablómeo sayest thee?
By such a name am I not that what I am…
but wouldst Pablo become Pablómeo…
if such be thine demand…
pale past be gone, faint future damned…
for thee this present present,
that be that I am!

My rose, my sun, my Pablómeo…
my faithful heart that beats,
a burro that’s called a burro,
by another name smells as sweet…

“Blurtseau Lundif – Corsaire Extraordinaire” (X)


At this point in the novel, said Blurtso, Echo has left her island to go in search of Blurtseau. After meeting a pig named Winston in England, the two cross the channel to France and make their way to Paris…


As Winston and Echo made their way through the streets of Paris, they began to feel more and more uneasy. They had never imagined there were so many people in the world. Everywhere they turned, they saw larger and larger crowds, parades of feet hurrying to some urgent destination, and every one of them was speaking a language neither Echo nor Winston could understand. The only word they knew was the name of the town where Blurtseau had lived, Roquebrune. And so, hoping someone might recognize the town and point them in the proper direction, they stood on a corner repeating that single word, “Roquebrune? Roquebrune? Roquebrune?”

Of course, it was highly unlikely that any of the passersby would recognize the name of a town of 500 inhabitants, 400 kilometers to the south; a principality that had just become a part of France. As a result, Echo’s and Winston’s inquiries elicited nothing more than puzzled looks and an occasional hungry glance, a glance that made Winston tremble, remembering his nightmarish experience in the Butcher’s Shop. Echo, too, was frightened by the things she saw, and by the din of sounds that thundered in her ears. She looked to Winston for courage, and though her friend was as panicked as she, his innate sense of self-importance, and belief he knew everything, enabled him to move confidently forward, repeating with every stride, “Roquebrune? Roquebrune? Roquebrune?”

By the end of their first day, Echo and Winston were exhausted and hungry. Though they had passed shops selling all types of food, and humans constantly engaged in the act of eating—even while they walked—Echo and Winston had not stumbled across a single discarded crumb until they chanced upon a plaza where a farmer’s market was being disassembled. They stuffed themselves with carrot tops and brown lettuce until they were full, and when it began to rain they walked down to a wide green river and took shelter under an enormous stone bridge.


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“Blurtso gives the opening prayer”


What’s the matter? said Alex. I’m worried, said Blurtso. Why? said Alex. Because I have to speak at Commencement. But you’re not graduating, said Alex. I know, said Blurtso, but my scholarship requires I make an appearance, and the president wants me to give the opening prayer. The opening prayer? said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, and I don’t know what to say. Well, said Alex, you’ve got to mention god, of course. God? said Blurtso. You mean the great donkey in the sky? Yes, said Alex, and no, because you can’t give preference to one god over another. You mean I have to mention all the gods? said Blurtso. How do I do that? It’s tricky, said Alex. What if I don’t mention any? No, said Alex, that won’t do…


Let us pray, said Blurtso, Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god… let’s see… where was I?… oh yes… oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, ad Infinitum… amen.

“Blurtso and Harlan watch the snow” (II)


I guess there’s not much snow in Borneo, said Blurtso. No, said Harlan, but there are many palm trees. I like palm trees, said Blurtso. So do I, said Harlan, there’s nothing like napping in a palm grove… listening to the wind in the leaves, and feeling the shadows on your skin. Yes, said Blurtso, a palm grove is a great place to nap, and so is a recliner, under a palapa next to the sea. Yes, said Harlan, there’s nothing like napping to the sound of waves, with a cap pulled down on your eyes. A Red Sox cap? said Blurtso. Of course, said Harlan. The snow is nice too, said Blurtso. Yes, said Harlan, there’s nothing like napping in a loft, with a cup of hot cocoa, listening to the slosh of cars in the street. Yes, said Blurtso, or napping under an oak, on a summer day, in an empty field in Maine. I still can’t believe, said Harlan, the Red Sox didn’t win the World Series.