Jungle Love

One of the Monkeys I had as a kid was in love with Skeeter Davis. For those who have no idea who that is, she was a country singer in the 60s and 70s with a hit called The End of the World and a few others that escape me at the moment.

Not sure what it was about this particular woman this monkey—yeah, it’s Teekee again, the monkey of ill repute from ear-pulling fame in my blog—but not only did she mesmerize him whenever she came on but he was riveted to the show Hee Haw, which commonly featured her.

If you were ever wondering what Hee Haw’s demographics were, well, wonder no more…

Maybe it was her blonde hair or something in the tone of her voice, but when she sang, he chirped. And did other nasty things that I won’t bring up here. A glazed look washed into his eyes and he did that funny forehead scrunching thing monkeys do. I used to get a glazed look in my eyes with Hee Haw too, but it was for a different reason (well, ok, when the hot country girls pooped up in the cornfield it was the SAME reason, but I won’t go there, either.)

He never wrote Skeeter monkey fan letters or sent her gold plated Monkey Chow, but he never flung poop at the TV when she was on and somewhere he had a banana with her name on it. Probably a good thing he didn’t profess his jungle love, because I’m pretty sure the relationship was doomed form the start. Species obstacles and all that, no matter how much DNA scientists tell us we have in common with our simian relatives.

It was kinda funny, kinda creepy in a way to watch him moon over Skeeter. And a few years later I would be able to identify with him in a weird way, thank you very much Olivia Newton-John.

I’ll spare you what he thought of the Lawrence Welk Show gals…