My previous post was about a boat tour I took earlier this month into the beautiful and fascinating Atchafalaya Basin, a sprawling wetland in southern Louisiana. The trip was a mere two hours long, but it was enough to give me the flavor of the place and make me resolve to go back another time and explore further.
My tour guide that day was Captain Don, a jovial Cajun fellow who regaled us passengers with (1) fascinating facts about the history and inhabitants of the Atchafalaya and (2) Cajun jokes.
Specifically, Captain Don introduced us to Boudreaux and Thibodeaux, the central characters of much Cajun humor. Boudreaux and Thibodeaux are a disreputable, but lovable duo whose antics get them into constant trouble.
The jokes, of course, are universal. But, when told by a Cajun about Cajuns, they have an undeniable panache.
Every time Captain Don reeled off a joke, I quietly made a note, so I could reconstruct the tale later. As it turned out, he told quite a few. That’s why I felt obliged to make this report a two-parter.
Here are the jokes Captain Don told us…
Boudreau is drivin’ in da city one day, all in a sweat. He got a very important meetin’, and he can’t find a parking place.
Lookin’ up to Heaven he says, “Lord, take pity on me! If you find me a parkin’ place, ah will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of ma life, and ah’ll never take another drink as long as ah live!”
Like a miracle, a parkin’ place appears around de next corner.
Boudreau looks up at Heaven again and says, “Never mind, Lord, ah found one.”
Thibodeaux is layin’ on his deathbed with only a few days to live. He calls his wife Clotile to his side and says, “Make me a promise, Clotile. Swear to me dat after ah’m dead and gone, you will marry Boudreaux.”
“Boudreaux?” she exclaims. “You always say you hate Boudreaux, ’cause he’s low down and no good, and you wish nuttin’ but BAD on him!”
Thibodeaux says, “Yeah, ah do.”
One day, Boudreaux and Thibodeaux fly north to Yankee country on vacation. As dey come in for a landin’, Boudreaux yells at Thibodeaux, “Pull up! Pull up! We’re at de end of de runway!”
So Thibodeaux pulls up and goes around for another try. As he attempts another landin’, Boudreaux yells at him again. “Pull up! Pull up! We’re at de end of de runway already!”
Thibodeaux pulls back on da stick and goes around again. As he comes in for a third try, he says to Boudreaux, “You know, dese Yankees is pretty stupid! Dey made dis runway way too short, but look at how wide it is!”
Pierre is drinkin’ at de bar, when Thibodeaux comes in. “Pierre, you heard the news?” says Thibodeaux. “Boudreaux is dead!”
“That’s terrible!” says Pierre. “What happened to him?”
“Well, Boudreaux was on his way over to my house the other day, and when he arrived, his foot missed da brake pedal, and BOOM — he hit da curb! He crash troo da windshield, go flying troo de air, and smash troo my upstairs bedroom window!”
“What a horrible way to die!” says Pierre.
“No no, dat didn’t kill him! He survived dat!
“So, he’s lyin’ on the floor, all covered in broken glass, and he tries to pull hisself up on dat big old antique chifferrobe we got, and BANG — da chifferrobe comes crashing down on top of him!”
“Mais, that’s terrible!”
“No no, dat didn’t kill him! He survived dat!
“So, he gets de chifferrobe off him, and he crawls out onto da landin’, and he tries to pull hisself up on de han’rail! But de han’rail breaks, and BAM — Boudreaux fall down da stairs to da first floor!”
“Dat’s sure an awful way to go!”
“No no, dat didn’t kill him! Boudreaux, he even survived dat!
“So, he’s downstairs, and he crawls into de kitchen and tries to pull hisself up on de stove! But he tips over a big pot of hot gumbo, and whoosh — da whole thing come down on him and burn him real bad!”
“Thibodeaux, dat’s an awful way to die!”
“No no, he survived dat too!”
“Wait — hold on now! Just how did Boudreaux die?”
“Ah shot him!”
“You shot him? Why you shoot him?”
“Mais, he was wreckin’ mah house!”
Boudreaux is workin’ on his cabane, which is what we call a cabin in dese parts, when his little grandson runs in.
“Papaw,” says da boy, “How far away is California? How far is California, Papaw?”
Boudreaux answers, “Boy, ah don’t know! Go away, now, ’cause ah’m busy!”
A few minutes later, here comes de boy again. “Papaw! Make a noise like a frog! Make a noise like a frog, Papaw!”
Boudreaux yells, “Boy can’t you see ah’m workin’? Get on outta here, like ah tol‘ ya!”
Da boy goes outside, but he stays near de door, lookin’ in at Boudreaux.
Finally, Boudreaux stops what he’s doin’ and says, “Boy, why you wanna know all dat?”
Da boy says, “‘Cause Mamaw told us — when Papaw finally croaks, we goin’ to California!”
One mornin’, Boudreaux goes fishin’, and he’s doin’ real fine until da game warden pops up. Da game warden been watchin’ from the bushes, and he waits ’till Boudreaux catches a mess of fish. Den he steps out and says, “Ok, boy, lemme see dat fishin’ license!”
Well, Boudreaux, he ain’t GOT no fishin’ license, so da game warden arrest him and take him to court.
Da judge looks at da charges, and says, “Boudreaux, you got a clean record, son. You ain’t never been in dis court before.”
“Das right, Judge,” Boudreaux says. “Ah ain’t never been caught till now.”
“How ’bout dis?” says the judge. “If you promise to get a fishin’ license and not break the law no more, ah’ll let you go.”
Da game warden lets out a howl of protest. “Dat ain’t fair, Judge!” he yells. “Boudreaux, he do dis all da time, but he always get away! I finally catch him, and you lettin’ him go?”
“Well,” says da judge, “Maybe he done learned his lesson. Have ya, Boudreaux?”
“You bet ah have, Judge,” says Boudreaux.
So da judge slams down his gavel and tells Boudreaux he’s free to go. Da game warden turns to de judge and says, “Judge, what about dis? One time, ah came up on Boudreaux in de swamp, and he done cooked and eat a brown pelican, da Louisiana state bird!”
“Is dat true, Boudreaux?” says da judge.
Boudreaux stops at de courtroom door and turns back and says, “Yes, Judge, ah done what he said, but de bird was already dead, and ah hated to see de meat go to waste!”
Da judge thought for a minute and den says, “Ah’m curious, Boudreaux. What do brown pelican taste like?”
“Funny thing, Judge,” says Boudreaux. “It taste a lot like bald eagle!”
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