About the "Tale of the Drunk Monkey"

I'm a little amazed that people have actually taken the time to write me to ask about my "Tale of a Drunk Monkey" story. Imagine that.

Some folks have asked if it is a true story. I can say honestly that it is. Yes, it is a true story. And yes, believe it or not, it was a fun night. 

A few people have asked if I really did think about trying to get him citizenship papers and running him for Congress, and so on. Well, yes, and a lot more! 

For example, since I was an active-duty Marine at the time, I actually thought that the little stinker had a better personality than my Sergeant at that time. So yes, in my inebriated state, I thought one of the options of starting off my monkey's career would be by replacing my Sergeant with the monkey. I did wonder how long it would take before anyone realized that my Sergeant was replaced by something with a higher IQ. But then again, who knows, my Sergeant may have gotten a promotion out of having the monkey do his job for a while! Lord knows, even a drunk monkey would have made a better Sergeant than the Sergeant that I had. 

In fact, besides thinking about replacing my Sergeant, there were other things that I left out of the story about that night. Things, including how there were a couple of Sailor friends who wanted us to sneak Henry aboard and keep him in the Boiler Repair shop to hide him until we got back to the States. And yes, there was the thought of putting him in the Officer's Mess on the ship as a joke. Fortunately, we chickened out and didn't do either of those things.

Thank goodness we had sobered up enough to realize that putting him in the Base Commander's private quarters was not a good idea. I don't care how quiet you think you are, sneaking a drunk monkey into an Admiral's quarters never goes as planned. 

Why Do Democrats Compare A Drunk Monkey To President Obama?

Now, as for the couple of people who are angry with me because they assume I'm calling President Obama a monkey, and that my whole birth certificate thought was written as a metaphor about Obama. Actually, there were a couple of people who wrote me asking if the whole Foreign Exchange Student, Congress, and birth certificate thoughts were all about Obama. Sorry, but it has nothing to do with President Obama at all. 

Sorry to say that I'm not that imaginative. Also, it's very important to note that I've been telling this story since it happened way back in 1975 -- long before anyone ever heard of Barack Hussein Obama. Sorry, folks, but it's not about the President. As sad as it is for Democrats, not everything is about them.

For those whose political leanings are to the left and who believe that I'm "just taking an unwarranted swipe at the President," please be advised that that is in your own mind and not mine.

Though I don't agree with the President's policies, "Tale of a Drunk Monkey" is just a story about me when I was a young Marine overseas, one night when I found a drinking partner in a monkey that I bought for a few pesos. I'll say it again, the bottom line is that not everything in this world is about Democrats and Obama. 

Besides, Henry was not the wealthy racist leftist jerk that Obama has shown himself to be. Also, unlike Obama, Henry was a monkey and never tried being something he wasn't. 

If I gave it any thought, I'd say that he was a monkey that liked people. He didn't think his shit didn't stink like Obama does. Henry was just a cool monkey and not some privileged bi-racial rich dude who was brought up with a silver spoon in his mouth, someone sent to expensive private schools, or someone who plays the game of being a victim because he's a minority. Henry was just a monkey.

The monkey that I named Henry was a victim of circumstances because he was caught and made a pet. He happened to be on a kid's shoulder when I was drunk enough to want to buy him. For what reason? Who knows. It seemed like a great idea at the time. 

Did I have any idea of what I was going to do with him after I bought him? No. But, as they say, enough booze coupled with a desire to play a harmless joke can turn things into a fun night. After weighing my options, I thought making my drunk monkey an American citizen would be great. Why? Who knows. It just seemed like it was something that needed to be done. 

It was only after being told, "Get that son of King Kong off my boat," that I realized that Henry was going nowhere. It was then that I realized that I wouldn't be able to make him an American citizen, that he wasn't going to college, and not going to be a prominent figure in the Democrat Party, as a joke.  

As I wrote in the Tale of the Drunk Monkey: 

I had a plan where I figured I'd enroll him in some sort of good school as a Foreign Exchange Student. I could falsify some papers, like a Birth Certificate, and say that he was born in Hawaii instead of the Philippines. Since I'm originally from Hawaii, I figured I could pass him off as a slow-thinking pot-smoking local moke as long as everyone only noticed his sunglasses, tank-top shirt, board shorts, and cheap rubber flip-flops.

I figured I could then send him to a private school that was only interested in getting tuition money. I figured they wouldn't care if they ever saw him or dealt with his shitty behavior or if he were gay and selling drugs, as long as they got their tuition money. And as most know, drunk or not, a lot of monkeys have some pretty poor social skills. They chatter a lot. Spit a lot. Swear a great deal. Some smoke a lot of pot. Can't handle their liquor. They are not very masculine, and while they can be very friendly, they have been known to be sort of self-righteous because they're monkeys.

I was worried that he'd get into drugs in College or maybe want to become a Communist. But, I figured that even if he did, most Colleges are only concerned about getting their money and wouldn't care if he did or didn't attend class. Besides, at the time, I was willing to bet that no one would care if he didn't show up for classes as long as he was helping them to meet their enrollment goals, their ethnic quota, and had a financial supporter paying for his tuition.

Most folks know that Colleges and Universities are like Drug Dealers and Hookers. They don't care where the money comes from. They're just concerned about it rolling in. And as for what Universities put out as a product, I figured they couldn't care less if Henry was a monkey and couldn't read, write, do math, or wanted to start throwing Molotov cocktails, vote Democrat, or look down on working Americans.

Yes, I was betting that no one would find out that he was a monkey until after he graduated with honors. By then, I figured they wouldn't want to make that public. I figured that even if no one ever saw him attend a single class, no one would care. Yes, especially if he became famous later. Then, they'd proudly claim him. Though they would seal his academic records so that everyone wouldn't see how he got a pass while not attending classes.

I even thought of making him a Law student with a minor in Political Science. I thought about a major in English Lit, but I figured that the other students would want him to sit around and drink wine and smoke a little too much pot. And knowing how monkeys can spend all of their student loans on wine and pot, and birth control, I figured that a major in Law would benefit him later. Besides, even if he were to get on a law school's Law Review, it's a good chance that no one would ever remember a monkey on the Law Review. Or, ever owe up that one was their Editor.

Yes, he needed a name. So with the power vested in me as a Lance Corporal in the United States Marine Corps, I named him Henry Olongapo. It seemed a good name for a monkey, especially a monkey who would one day be a pseudo-intellectual, maybe even one day be picked to teach in a University but never show up. Henry Olongapo was a perfect name because it was definitely ethnic sounding. And yes, I figured with such a name, he would be entitled to head-of-the-line privileges for everything, including job preferences -- certainly a lot more than someone with the name Smith or Jones. Yes, that was the case even in 1975.

If you're thinking that it sounded a bit too crazy? It wasn't all that crazy! I figured that maybe after he gets his degree, I'd be able to find him a job with the Democratic Party in the San Francisco Bay Area as some sort of an Intern who never shows up but just gets paid. I figured he'd fit in perfectly with them and could be used to fill one of the spots on their hiring quota.

I did wonder how long it would take for someone to realize that he was a primate. Though of color, red and black, actually a dark gray, if my memory serves me right, he was definitely ethnic. And of course, technically, he was from another country, he spoke a foreign language, and he needed assistance. So I figured, he'd be perfect for Liberal politics!

Yes, there is that thing about him being foreign-born, but I figured that would help when trying to get him College tuition assistance. It would have been a little bit of a problem if I wanted to run him for Congress, but not much. After all, as his manager, I figured I'd be able to pass him off as a candidate who comes from a very "Environmentally friendly family."

And even if no one ever said that he was, in reality, a monkey, it was a safe bet that I would be able to get big money donors to sponsor him if I ran him as a Democrat for Congress. And no, there would have been nothing wrong with running him as a Democrat -- especially considering how much money Democrats get from kickbacks with every Congressional Bill they pass. Henry would have been knee-deep in bananas.

Look at it this way, Congress makes criminal acts attractive. If you don't think so, think about this: where else can some crook be embedded in a job, in this case the job of a Senator or a Representative, making a salary of $174,000 a year -- but accumulates over $60,000,000 in a couple of years. It's better than robbing banks!

And folks, we can joke all we want, but really, monkey or not, primate or not, whether a candidate is a drunk power hungry woman who calls folks "deplorable," a refugee who married her brother, a broke Leftist bartender, someone who sniffs little children, someone who doesn't want to deport illegal alien rapists and murderers, someone who is all in when it comes to killing babies and getting pay-offs for Mexican Cartels, none of that matters to Liberal billionaires who don't care who they throw their money at as long as their candidate is a Democrat.

Back in the 1970s, I had no idea that politics was a way to become extremely wealthy. It's a way to scam the American people. And while I didn't think about running Henry for Congress as a way to scam Liberal political donors, I'm now convinced Henry would have had a lot of money thrown at him long before any of those people ever noticed he was a monkey.

Actually, I thought about running Henry for Congress as a joke to see how long it would take for someone to notice that he was a monkey with citizenship papers and a degree from Harvard or Columbia. After all, at the time, I heard stories about people who ran their dog for Mayor. Can you imagine losing a Mayoral Election to a dog? Well, believe it or not, that happened in a small town in California where a dog won an election and became the Honorary Mayor. After the dog died, the dog was stuffed and put on a shelf in a local bar. It may have been reelected like that.

Back in 1975, I was naive. I thought politics was a lot more honorable and certainly more honest than I've learned it is. Looking at the reality of what could have been, if I had run Henry's Congressional Election campaign, it wouldn't have taken that much work on my part since I could have gotten a lot of help from the Democratic Party. With limited interviews to recorded statements by others, issued press releases, and keeping him completely out of sight, the only concern would have been a debate with Republicans.

But with the help of ABC, CBS, and NBC at the time, I figured they'd cover for him because he was a Democrat. Yes, even if he looked like a monkey on camera and didn't answer questions coherently, I believe that television stations would have helped Henry win a debate by accusing Republicans of bullying Henry and being racist -- especially for pointing out that Henry was, well, in fact, a monkey.

I did think it would be impossible to run him for President. I mean, how would I have been able to explain that he received College tuition assistance as a Foreign Exchange Student while at the same time claiming that he's really an American citizen born in Hawaii? And how would I explain that he became President without being born in America and lied about that? No, I figured no one would ever go for such a con-job unless people were really that stupid.

As I said before, I knew I could probably dummy up a Birth Certificate. Heck, people fake driver's licenses and Social Security cards. Some people have even used other people's Social Security numbers, and no one fusses about it, so why not a fake Birth Certificate?

Back in 1975, I would have bet just about anything that trying to produce a Birth Certificate when there isn't one, just so he can be President, could never be done. That sort of fraud would be hard to get past diligent Newspaper people. I knew that there would be no way of doing it. I figured they'd hound poor Henry for a statement, and sooner or later, even the Democrats would turn on him.

Of course, then there would be revelations that somehow the news media was covering up for the fact that Henry Olongapo was not who they thought he was -- and was a monkey. Once revealed as a monkey, Henry would be shipped back to the Philippines. Yes, even after some partisan Supreme Court Judge gave him his Oath of Office as President, it wouldn't matter, and they'd deport him.

Imagine for a moment, if he became President? All of the pardons that Henry Olongapo generated and all of the Executive Orders signed with an auto-pen, the 162 executive orders, 242 presidential memoranda, 725 proclamations, and 152 notices, would have all been void because the world would find out that Henry wasn't in charge -- and in fact Henry was just a drunk monkey.

As for me, faking his Birth Certificate, sending him to the best schools, watching him get his useless degrees from Harvard and Columbia, getting him hired by the Democratic Party, running him for Congress, making sure he was not seen, and getting him elected President with a "We hate the other guy" campaign? Well, I would've probably ended up writing a book about how Henry was the perfect banana-eating Democrat, how no one was in charge of the White House, how the White House staff and the media covered up for Henry being a monkey, and how people without names who were in charge of the White House almost pushed the world into a Nuclear War. Like that could ever happen!

Of course, none of that was a big deal because none of it would ever come true. It wasn't a big deal because in 1975, I couldn't get Henry aboard the USS Hancock to get my ship's Captain to swear him in as an American citizen. So basically, all of my dreams of Henry going on to bigger and better things were just shot in the butt by a Chief Petty Officer who didn't know that he just ordered a future President off the ship.

About Story Structure

One person wrote to ask about writing the story, and how long did it take me to write it? She also wanted to know about "the mechanics" of writing such a story.   

I find that an interesting question because I'm not a "writer" in the sense of using story formats, layouts, and such. I'm a guy who likes to write in the sense that I know what I want to say and where I'm going without a layout or plan and all of that sort of thing. When I was in college, I took writing classes because I enjoyed writing. Since I had teachers who told me that I shouldn't write because I don't like "structure," I didn't care for all the so-called rules of writing. That's why I stick to storytelling.

So, for me, being able to answer your question about "the mechanics" of writing? Well, that would be a little too pretentious for me to try to do. See, I don't know about any of that stuff. Well, I do and don't. I mean, I was once taught it, but I didn't pay much attention to it. 

It's funny how it all works out really. I've been telling the story about me drinking with that monkey for over 35 years, all because it's just plain funny, and everyone usually gets a laugh hearing it. I've tried writing it before, many years ago, and it was so so. Then I tried again, and it came out a lot more to my satisfaction. A few weeks ago, I pulled it out, dusted it off, and tried to work on it again. This time, I shortened it, cleaned up the language, and took out a few things.

I write as if I'm writing a letter to a friend, and it works for me. I do believe that whoever said, "Writing is re-writing" was pretty much on the money. But for me, I didn't find it a lot of work this time. Probably because to me the "Tale of a Drunk Monkey" is a fun story to tell. I can still remember it as if it happened yesterday. And all in all, it was a great night! It was one to remember.

And as for the story itself, well I'm happy with it. And really, if you got a good laugh out of it and maybe wanted to share it with a friend -- then that means it was a pretty good story.

If you'd like to read it again, here it is. Tale of the Drunk Monkey, a short story by Tom Correa
http://americancowboychronicles.blogspot.com/2011/02/getting-drunk-with-monkey.html