shriner's convention

yeah

they come down main street

drums a flailing

sirens a-wailin'

what a roar

bands are a-playin' and flags are a-wavin'

and the vanguard's a motorcycle corps

clowns are a-clownin' through the crowd and pinchin'

every pretty girl who dares to smile

it's a glorious mess

everybody wears a fez

the parade stretches out for miles

it's a typical american phenomenon

where all the members have a fine old time

it's the forty-third annual convention

of the grand mystic royal order

of the nobles of the ali baba temple of the shrine

meanwhile back at the motel. operator

give me room three-twenty-one

please. hello? noble lumpkin? this here's the 'lustr'ous potentate. i said it's the 'lustr'ous potentate. the illustr'ous. coy? dad-blame it

this here's bubba. coy

why ain't you at the parade? what? well

how'd you get that big harley up there in your room? what? i cain't hear ya

coy

quit revvin' it up

boy. turn it off. i just want you to know one thing. you have embarr'ssed us all

the whole hahira delegation. now

i'll see you at the banquet

son

and you be there

coy

you hear me? black tie

seb'n o'clock. be there

coy. and coy

don't answer the phone uddn'uddn. well

it was all arranged by the ladies' auxiliary

in the downtown convention hall

cold roast beef

string beans

mashed potatoes

and nine boring speeches in all

and all the tables looked fine with their mogan david wine

and chrysanthemums on each side

and the hahira leaders in their rented tuxedos

made the local heart swell with pride

meanwhile back at the motel. operator? three-twenty-one

please. thank you. hello

coy

what are you doin'? whaddaya mean

who is this. this is bubba. why wasn't you at the banquet? whaddaya mean

all you had to wear was a hawaiian flowerdy shirt? well

you may think you're foolin' some people

but i know what's goin' on. everybody's seen the little red-head. that's right

ever'body. why

she come runnin' through the dinner

right in the middle of the pineapple sherbert. didn't have nothin' on but yer fez

coy. coy

you the only one's got a fez with a propeller on top. yeah. yeah

yeah

and she's yellin' out the secret code

too

coy. we goin' have to change it now. dad blame it

coy

we goin' have to have a special meetin' when we get to hahira about yer conduct at this here convention. embarrassing. now coy

you be at the secret conclave tonight

you hear me? and keep it a secret. hoo!

well

it was a secret meeting in the dead of the night

with mysterious sanctimony

in accordance with prescribed rituals

a time-honored ceremony

matters of grave concern were weighed with dedicated caution

like whether or not to raise at stud

or draw at spit-in-the-ocean

meanwhile back at the motel. operator

room three-twenty-. h-how'd you know? oh. hello

coy? where h-have you been? no-o-o

you wasn't at the meeting. well

i found out that at three o'clock this morning you's out there in your fruit-of-the looms in the motel swimmin' pool

bunch o' them waitresses from the cocktail hour. huh

i just hope charlene don't find out about this

coy. what? well

how'd you get that big motorsickle up there on the high dive

coy? now coy

dad burnit

that ain't no way to act. we s'posed to be pillars of the community. 'n we get back to hahira

you can just turn in your ring

and your tie-tack. 'cause coy

you are out of the shrine. you goin' be blackballed

coy. that's right

you may have t' pack yer bags and leave town. what do you mean

you might join the hell's angels? coy

hoo

don't you hang up on me. no

don't you crank that motorsickle. who's that gigglin' in the background

coy? hello? hello? operator

we's cut off. yeah

room three-twenty-one. coy?