Thursday, March 11, 2010

Blog Oleo

Gather 'round children, let me tell you about the oleo wars...

I come from Wisconsin, you see. America's Dairyland.  There was a time when the powerful dairy industry fought and, for a time, was winning the fight to keep us safe from oleo. There were laws banning the use of food coloring to make oleo look butter yellow.  It was taxed heavily.  There was a black market for oleo.  There was bootleg oleo to be had for a price.

Oleo? It's what is now known as margarine.  The full word used to be oleomargarine. On the south side of Milwaukee, we called it oleo. Of course, like so many things about southsiders, our way would not be the way of the world. Margarine it would be.

Why the babbling about oleo? Because the word to me means "a cheap subsitute for the real thing." We were supposed to pretend it tasted as good as butter, but we knew it didn't.

This post is blog oleo - a placeholder for an "olympic coverage" quality post for Australia and New Zealand. I have been piecing together the big "Down Under Special," but it hasn't congealed yet. And you know and I know, if there's one thing I'm committed to, it's congealed Budding Ventriloquist posts.

So, for now, here's some blog oleo.  It will do. I promise something more flavorful on the Aussies and the Kiwis soon.

*** Blog Oleo Warning***
An Australian ventriloquist visiting New Zealand walks into a small town and sees a local sitting on his porch patting his dog. He figures he'll have a little fun.

Ventriloquist: Hey, good looking dog, mate. Mind if I speak to him?
New Zealander: The dog doesn't talk, you stupid Aussie.
Ventriloquist: Hey dog, how's it going old mate?
Dog: Doin' alright.

The New Zealander is shocked!

Ventriloquist: Is this Kiwi your owner? (Pointing at the New Zealander)
Dog: Yep.
Ventriloquist: How does he treat you?
Dog: Real good. He walks me twice a day, feeds me great food, and takes me to the lake once a week to play.

The New Zealander can't believe his ears!

Ventriloquist: Mind if I talk to your horse?
New Zealander: Horse doesn't talk either.
Ventriloquist: Hey horse, how's it going?
Horse: No worries.

The New Zealander's mouth is agape.

Ventriloquist: Is this your owner? (Pointing at the New Zealander)
Horse: Yep.
Ventriloquist: How's he treat you?
Horse: Pretty good, thanks for asking. He rides me regularly, brushes me down often, and keeps me in the barn to protect me from the elements.

The New Zealander is TOTALLY amazed!

Ventriloquist: Mind if I talk to your sheep?
New Zealander: The sheep's a liar.
One one hand, I don't want to create a logo for blog oleo. That implies that it's a regular feature, which would be to say I am planning to regularly settle for a substandard substitute for original work.

Then again, as the margarine lobbyists proved, marketing is everything, isn't it?
As I enter the post-Winter Olympics incarnation of Budding Ventriloquist, you may have noticed I've gone a bit "logo whacky."  As I consider a new level of organization to BV, like having a weekly routine (Mystic Moment Monday?). I might go with No Logo Thursday. It would be a day for something free and not so programmed.

You'll know it's No Logo Thursday when you see this:

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