Don’t piss
off the Swiss!
Last
Olympics the Swiss hockey team didn't get a medal. Although they were excellent skaters, they didn't fare well for the following reasons
1)
When the referee called icing, they thought he was
talking about pastry
2)
They were penalized for attempting to build a large
ice-capped barrier around their goal
3)
They spent far too much time in the “neutral” zone.
We think of Swiss and we
see people in fairy tale clothing, blowing 12 foot horns in between bites of
chocolate.
Amiable, comical, harmless
people: hardly a people to fear.
Those who
have visited the Vatican (or those, like me, who've seen pictures of people visiting the Vatican and been spared the 18 hours in a tour bus next to retired
couple from Toledo who ate something they shouldn't have) have seen the famous
Swiss guards. They look like they just
came off the label on a bottle of scotch.
On the ferocity scale they appear to fall somewhere between Tony the
Tiger and Winnie the Pooh.
And so they are – assuming Tony was a real Tiger and Pooh a real bear.
Those of us
of German descent pretend to be tough.
We go around spitting threatening “ach” sounds at the end of our words
and stare malignly at any collection of items or people not in a straight
line. We've been living next to the
Swiss for centuries but you don’t see us ever bothering them. Martin Luther was once impolite to Zwingli
and the Reformation nearly met a tragic end right there.
In all the
World War II movies, refugees are always escaping to Switzerland. Do you think Clint Eastwood, Donald
Southerland and Don Rickles were concerned that the Nazis would try to get
their gold back? Do you think Maria and
all those sickeningly sweet children worried that Papa Von Trapp would be
snatched back up and put on a U-boat?
Nah!
As they
climbed the Alps and crossed the boarder they met one pudgy guy in leather
shorts who greeted them. “Welcome to
Switzerland, have some chocolate, pet the Saint Bernard, bend over and moon
Berlin.”
Rumor is
the Heidi and her Grandfather alone, held off an entire SS company using
nothing but a shepherd’s crook and hair ribbons.
Once, the finish to a professional football
playoff game was preempted to show a rerun of the movie “Heidi.” If Roone Arlidge was scared of them, so am I.
It’s OK, you
tell me. The Swiss can be tough but we
don’t have to worry about them. Sure,
every citizen over the age of three has an automatic weapon
but the Swiss
gather only short-range defensive ordinance.
They’re interested in stopping an enemy from climbing over the
Alps. After all, Hannibal surprised them
with arrow-proof elephants and they want to make sure no one ever does that
again!
Oh yeah,
smart guy? You’re so sure you won’t see
the Swiss rolling across Europe, North America or even (for the hell of it)
Australia, establishing marshal law, resetting clocks and disposing of inferior
chocolate?
You’re
forgetting one thing. The most
devastating tactical assault vehicle known to man. The M-1 tank you ask? The Bradley fighting vehicle? No, I’m talking about the Pope-mobile.
Whenever
you see the Pope traveling, he’s always safely ensconced in a Pope-mobile. These vehicles are not built like some spit
guard on a salad bar at your local Ponderosa; these babies are high tech! You could launch a smart bomb, a nuke or even
Oprah at one of these machines and you wouldn't even bother the man’s pointy
hat. All of this advanced armor is there
just to protect an icon of peace? C’mon,
we know better.
Still, you
argue (you just don’t give up do you?).
What do we have to fear from just one Pope-mobile?
You don’t
see any crumbling “I break for baby ducks” stickers on the Pope’s bumper do
you? No!
The Pope has no interest in keeping a vehicle past its first oil
change. The man gets a new ride for
every trip. I bet he’s gone through
hundreds, if not thousands of these suckers.
You never
notice a Pope-mobile blowout at Billy-Bob-Joe-Ben McGinty’s Used Car
Heaven? I’ll tell you why. The used papal assault vehicles are stored in
a massive alpine bunker directly below a coo-coo clock manufacturing plant and
several thousand of Donald Trump’s safety deposit boxes.
Do you want
to wake up at five every morning to the sound of elongated brass performing
cough drop jingles? Are you willing to
surrender the Swiss Miss cocoa company executives to a Geneva war-crimes
tribunal? Are you prepared to be
conquered by an army that speaks five languages better than you speak English?
Write to our
President. Tell him to forget
middle-east terrorism and stop Pope-mobile proliferation. Only when every Pope-mobile is safely
decaying in a New Jersey hazardous waste dump am I going to feel safe sleeping
at night.
Then maybe
we can do something about the Tony the Tiger and Winnie the Pooh threat.
Don't believe me? Check this animated documentary from the mid 90s. They're even more scary now.
Editor’s note: The increasingly
over-rated, Trouble in Taos will be
free as an e-book on Amazon this weekend, Feb 7, 8, 2015. “People seem to like it – can someone tell me
why?” asks Headley Hauser, the author (and writer of this blog.) No-one here at Go Figure Reads was able to
answer his question.
Walter Bego
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