Ed Helicopter Jones
03-01-2006, 01:39 PM
As most of you know, I, Edward Helicopter Jones, have been entrusted as the keeper of the keys for the mighty SPAM. Every year I make a journey to the local supermarket to pay homage to the SPAM and learn whatever hidden messages the SPAM may hold for those of us who are members of SPAMnation. For 2006 I am opening my SPAM journal, and allowing you all to read about my travels and give you some never-before-revealed insights into this annual journey of mine.
The 2006 SPAM pilgrimage took place on Sunday, February 26, 2006:
7:30 AM – I awaken surrounded by the sounds of the angels of SPAM. My wife tells me that what I am hearing is the sound of our two year old yelling into his bedroom intercom to wake us up. I tell her she’s crazy as I continue to sway to the songs of the SPAM.
7:45 AM – I get up, put on my favorite Spurs cap, and run naked into the streets yelling “It’s SPAM day! It’s SPAM day!” I notice that my neighbors are staring at me with looks that are a combination of puzzlement and hate. I think they might be crazy like our last neighbors were. Hopefully we won’t have to move again.
8:45 AM – I have prepared SPAM omelets with toast for the family. For myself I have mixed my favorite nutritional shake in a blender - seven egg whites, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, and a can of SPAM. I mark on my calendar that this is my 30th day on the all-SPAM diet. Unfortunately my wife tells me that she has to leave to run some sort of “errand” and can’t join me for breakfast. “She’s crazy!” I tell myself, but now I get the omelet and shake all to myself. . .delicious!!
9:15 AM – I go into my home gym for an intense morning workout.
9:18 AM – I jump in the shower.
9:22 AM – All finished washing my hair, front side, back side. . .all that’s left is Mr. Happy.
9:56 AM – Shower is complete.
9:57 AM – I hop on the scale and notice that I’ve gained 30 pounds of muscle so far on the SPAM workout and diet plan. My doctor told me it’s fat. I told him he’s crazy.
9:58 AM – I get dressed. I put on my Cavaricci jeans, my SPAM T-shirt, Spurs watch and hat. Note to self: Don’t wash jeans on hot, they seem to be shrinking.
10:10 AM – I pull out of my driveway in my 1977 silver and black Firebird and wave at my neighbors yelling “Go Spurs Go” through a megaphone as per my daily ritual. I notice several of them signaling to me that the Spurs are number 1!! Maybe these neighbors aren’t so bad after all!
10:22 AM – As I enter the same supermarket where I held “SPAM Pilgrimage 2005” I am told by the manager that I am no longer welcome in his establishment and am asked to leave. I assume that this man is either not a Spurs fan or he is crazy. I sit in my car for a few minutes and suddenly I realize that people who aren’t Spurs fans ARE crazy! I laugh out loud as I drive down the road, basking in the irony of it all.
10:25 AM – Carpenters song on the radio – crank that sh!t up!!!
10:31 AM – I remember the irony of it all and start laughing all over again. I see what is obviously a crazy woman staring at me from her car. I remember a secret defense against crazy evil that the SPAM taught me and mouth the word “vacuum” to her several times. She, like so many others in the past, is instantly healed as she gives me the hand signal that the Spurs are number 1! Another convert, Spammen!!
10:37 AM – I arrive at a second supermarket that I have never used for a previous SPAM Pilgrimage. I enter the store and wait near the entrance to see if I am spotted by any crazy people.
10:42 AM – I conclude that I am surrounded by the sane and it is safe to go to the SPAM aisle.
10:44 AM – I find the potted meat aisle. I see the display of oblong blue cans in front of me. . .THE SPAM AWAITS!!!!
10:45 AM - I lie prostrate on the ground if front of the cans and meditate to achieve a oneness with the SPAM.
10:49 AM – An old woman runs over my legs with her cart. Spamdamn that hurt! Crazy old bitty! I return to my meditative position.
10:52 AM – As I reach a deep trance, I begin to hear the humming of the SPAM and quickly build a pyramid of cans to help channel the energy.
10:56 AM – The SPAM speaks:
In 2005 a championship was brought to thee
Guided to a title, with SPAM you shall be
On the road in ’06 is a dynasty begun
As a team shall receive its fourth trophy won
10:58 AM – I’m beside myself with glee! I jump up and down and hug everyone I see. I go down the row of cash registers and high five all the cashiers. I still hear the humming. WHY DO I STILL HEAR THE HUMMING??!!
11:00 AM – I return to the SPAM aisle, rip off my clothes, open several of the humming cans of SPAM and remove their innards and smear them over my body. I shout “IT’S SO LOUD! IT’S SO FVCKING LOUD!!!” Suddenly I realize how closely my last statement resembled the “SOFA KING” ads and how low their prices are. I laugh at the irony of it all, and then return to my shouting.
11:43 AM – I am booked into the county detention center. . .again.
12:02 PM – As I sit in the holding cell I replay the SPAM’s message and repeat it out loud several times. All of a sudden it hits me that the Pistons also have three NBA titles. I ponder this quandary aloud and ask my cellmates repeatedly what it all means. I begin to cry inconsolably. The other men in my cell are looking at me kind of funny. I think they’re crazy.
12:30 PM – The good men at the police station decide that a private cell would be the best place for me to contemplate my message and move me into my own private meditation suite.
5:45 PM – After several hours of deep thought and meditation I determine that the Spurs would be the only team that could be on the verge of dynasty status as THEY are the defending champs! Confident that this is the message that the SPAM wanted to convey I rip off my clothes and scream “Spurs are number 1!! Spurs are number 1!!” Sadly I have no SPAM to smear over my body as my last can was taken during the cavity search hours earlier.
6:01 PM – The good men at the police station set me free as they say something about me being more of a threat to them than to myself or others. I realize that they must be crazy, too, but I just nod at them and smile and move slowly away, like I try to do whenever I’m too near a crazy person.
6:45 PM – I arrive home. Tired and hungry I prepare a SPAM salad sandwich with a glass of hand-squeezed SPAM juice.
7:15 PM – I put my can of SPAM on top of the TV and watch old Spurs championship videos until I drift off to sleep.
11:12 PM – I awaken and realize I’m still in the living room. There is a note on the coffee table in front of me from Mrs. Chopper that says something about the Spurs and obsessions, blah blah blah, and that she’s leaving to spend some time at a relative’s house for a while. Oh well. I really don’t have time to read it as I suddenly notice that my video has reached the 2005 trophy presentation. Man, Holt looks drunk!! That guy must be crazy! So I drop the note to the floor, settle back into my easy chair, and let the confetti falling from the SBC ceiling send me off to pleasant dreams.
11:59 PM – I wake up again. My chest kind of hurts. “That’s nice” I think to myself. I sink back into my chair, comforted at how the SPAM is touching my heart to let me know it loves me. It’s a crazy kind of love.
The 2006 SPAM pilgrimage took place on Sunday, February 26, 2006:
7:30 AM – I awaken surrounded by the sounds of the angels of SPAM. My wife tells me that what I am hearing is the sound of our two year old yelling into his bedroom intercom to wake us up. I tell her she’s crazy as I continue to sway to the songs of the SPAM.
7:45 AM – I get up, put on my favorite Spurs cap, and run naked into the streets yelling “It’s SPAM day! It’s SPAM day!” I notice that my neighbors are staring at me with looks that are a combination of puzzlement and hate. I think they might be crazy like our last neighbors were. Hopefully we won’t have to move again.
8:45 AM – I have prepared SPAM omelets with toast for the family. For myself I have mixed my favorite nutritional shake in a blender - seven egg whites, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, and a can of SPAM. I mark on my calendar that this is my 30th day on the all-SPAM diet. Unfortunately my wife tells me that she has to leave to run some sort of “errand” and can’t join me for breakfast. “She’s crazy!” I tell myself, but now I get the omelet and shake all to myself. . .delicious!!
9:15 AM – I go into my home gym for an intense morning workout.
9:18 AM – I jump in the shower.
9:22 AM – All finished washing my hair, front side, back side. . .all that’s left is Mr. Happy.
9:56 AM – Shower is complete.
9:57 AM – I hop on the scale and notice that I’ve gained 30 pounds of muscle so far on the SPAM workout and diet plan. My doctor told me it’s fat. I told him he’s crazy.
9:58 AM – I get dressed. I put on my Cavaricci jeans, my SPAM T-shirt, Spurs watch and hat. Note to self: Don’t wash jeans on hot, they seem to be shrinking.
10:10 AM – I pull out of my driveway in my 1977 silver and black Firebird and wave at my neighbors yelling “Go Spurs Go” through a megaphone as per my daily ritual. I notice several of them signaling to me that the Spurs are number 1!! Maybe these neighbors aren’t so bad after all!
10:22 AM – As I enter the same supermarket where I held “SPAM Pilgrimage 2005” I am told by the manager that I am no longer welcome in his establishment and am asked to leave. I assume that this man is either not a Spurs fan or he is crazy. I sit in my car for a few minutes and suddenly I realize that people who aren’t Spurs fans ARE crazy! I laugh out loud as I drive down the road, basking in the irony of it all.
10:25 AM – Carpenters song on the radio – crank that sh!t up!!!
10:31 AM – I remember the irony of it all and start laughing all over again. I see what is obviously a crazy woman staring at me from her car. I remember a secret defense against crazy evil that the SPAM taught me and mouth the word “vacuum” to her several times. She, like so many others in the past, is instantly healed as she gives me the hand signal that the Spurs are number 1! Another convert, Spammen!!
10:37 AM – I arrive at a second supermarket that I have never used for a previous SPAM Pilgrimage. I enter the store and wait near the entrance to see if I am spotted by any crazy people.
10:42 AM – I conclude that I am surrounded by the sane and it is safe to go to the SPAM aisle.
10:44 AM – I find the potted meat aisle. I see the display of oblong blue cans in front of me. . .THE SPAM AWAITS!!!!
10:45 AM - I lie prostrate on the ground if front of the cans and meditate to achieve a oneness with the SPAM.
10:49 AM – An old woman runs over my legs with her cart. Spamdamn that hurt! Crazy old bitty! I return to my meditative position.
10:52 AM – As I reach a deep trance, I begin to hear the humming of the SPAM and quickly build a pyramid of cans to help channel the energy.
10:56 AM – The SPAM speaks:
In 2005 a championship was brought to thee
Guided to a title, with SPAM you shall be
On the road in ’06 is a dynasty begun
As a team shall receive its fourth trophy won
10:58 AM – I’m beside myself with glee! I jump up and down and hug everyone I see. I go down the row of cash registers and high five all the cashiers. I still hear the humming. WHY DO I STILL HEAR THE HUMMING??!!
11:00 AM – I return to the SPAM aisle, rip off my clothes, open several of the humming cans of SPAM and remove their innards and smear them over my body. I shout “IT’S SO LOUD! IT’S SO FVCKING LOUD!!!” Suddenly I realize how closely my last statement resembled the “SOFA KING” ads and how low their prices are. I laugh at the irony of it all, and then return to my shouting.
11:43 AM – I am booked into the county detention center. . .again.
12:02 PM – As I sit in the holding cell I replay the SPAM’s message and repeat it out loud several times. All of a sudden it hits me that the Pistons also have three NBA titles. I ponder this quandary aloud and ask my cellmates repeatedly what it all means. I begin to cry inconsolably. The other men in my cell are looking at me kind of funny. I think they’re crazy.
12:30 PM – The good men at the police station decide that a private cell would be the best place for me to contemplate my message and move me into my own private meditation suite.
5:45 PM – After several hours of deep thought and meditation I determine that the Spurs would be the only team that could be on the verge of dynasty status as THEY are the defending champs! Confident that this is the message that the SPAM wanted to convey I rip off my clothes and scream “Spurs are number 1!! Spurs are number 1!!” Sadly I have no SPAM to smear over my body as my last can was taken during the cavity search hours earlier.
6:01 PM – The good men at the police station set me free as they say something about me being more of a threat to them than to myself or others. I realize that they must be crazy, too, but I just nod at them and smile and move slowly away, like I try to do whenever I’m too near a crazy person.
6:45 PM – I arrive home. Tired and hungry I prepare a SPAM salad sandwich with a glass of hand-squeezed SPAM juice.
7:15 PM – I put my can of SPAM on top of the TV and watch old Spurs championship videos until I drift off to sleep.
11:12 PM – I awaken and realize I’m still in the living room. There is a note on the coffee table in front of me from Mrs. Chopper that says something about the Spurs and obsessions, blah blah blah, and that she’s leaving to spend some time at a relative’s house for a while. Oh well. I really don’t have time to read it as I suddenly notice that my video has reached the 2005 trophy presentation. Man, Holt looks drunk!! That guy must be crazy! So I drop the note to the floor, settle back into my easy chair, and let the confetti falling from the SBC ceiling send me off to pleasant dreams.
11:59 PM – I wake up again. My chest kind of hurts. “That’s nice” I think to myself. I sink back into my chair, comforted at how the SPAM is touching my heart to let me know it loves me. It’s a crazy kind of love.