Revelations From The Very Middle
Back on that cold winter evening of April 1, 1796 when a blessed event befell an otherwise austere American household, the proud mother knew her new son would, as she later recalled, "go on to do some thing round". How true these simple words were and little in fact did she then realize that the product of her indiscretion with her lifelong gas reader meter man would, many years hence, become the titular head of the world´s most biggest imaginary recording organization: Fonogram.
Over the years of Fonogram´s initial developement, things were not always cheeseburgers and chocolate triple-thick shakes. It was very rough in the beginning, for not until another American named Edison invented and marketed the phonograph, Fonogram suffered incredulous losses from lack of product sales. Fonogram´s seven, nine, twelve, and eighteen inch discs were all boxed and laying about but filling warehouse space and precious little else.
However having had violent premonitions that a device called an "automobile" would be perfected before the much-needed phonograph would be, Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone secluded himself in his secret basement laboratory to once again ponder his delicate situation. It was apparently another one of those fateful fridays, for while attempting to brew some very weak tea, Terrence accidently knocked some nine inch Fonogram discs into a boiling cauldron his tea bags had just been removed from. (Historians have off-debated the titles of the inadvertantly submerged records and it has recently been concluded that the dunked discs were those of a "Etep Tseb". Apparently Mr. Tseb was, at the time, a very reknowned Indian instruction yodel artist who had turned professional for the endorsement money available.) Terrence continued to putter around the lab until he noticed this black gooey substance oozing in the hot water where two hours ago his tea bags had been. He grabbed his John Quincy Adams-handled spoon and tasted this odd goo – he found it had a very, very vile taste not too unlike that one he remembered from when he was a child and consumed a plate of baked balloons and cardboard on a dare. Terrence reasoned that if rubber bands could make neighborhood flight possible, why couldn´t this stuff power an automobile, whatever that was going to turn out to be anyway. "It tastes like petrol to me" he prophetically uttered.
Yes, even before he had even begun to work on the problem, Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone found the answer was there, his mindless but decisively scientific methods had again prevailed and for many years later the entire force of the Fonogram machine was used in turning the vast storehouses of round excess electrorecitations into precious oil for gasolene. And as we know, when the first automobiles were indeed introduced on the market it was the Fonoco family of gas stations that offered America it´s first swallow of the much needed fuel. It was yet another triumph under Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone´s ever-widening, altough unfastened belt. But best of all the revenue generated from the gasolene sales saved the Fonogram family from an early demise to keep it living for all today. How ironic it is now, that the entire, then declining, Fonoco chain was sold in 1907 to a visiting middle eastern diplomat, unable to buy the as-yet-to-be-constructed Brooklyn bridge. But that is another story entirely.
But citizen do look around, even in our troubled and upset world, the Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone / Fonoco method of patented gasolene aquisition is utilized worldwide among every nations largest energy corporations. This, of course, explains the present see-saw availability relationship between recorded works of art and golden petrol for today´s car of tomorrow. And look again citizen to see that even today, most of the major record companies are wholly owned and operated by faceless oil conglomerates exactly imitating the original Fonoco / Fonogram organization.
We all have a great deal to thank Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone for and had it not been for his visiting niece´s odd penchants that warm cozy evening in 1882 predicating Dr. Fone´s morals conviction four months later he would easily still be on the two dollar bill today. But as his aunt Cornelia used to say "self pollution is the devil´s phonebooth".
And, bow howdy, in the end, wasn´t she right?
Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone has in no way forgotten his social responsibilities over the decades and still today replies to all letters sent to him at this address: Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone, Fonogram Towers, 1600 Grand avenue of the Kornyfones, Anytown, U.S.A.
Those visiting the Anytown area are invited to visit the towers and take a forty-five minute guided tour of the entire corporate plastic facility, personally conducted by Dr. Terrence H. "Telly" Fone´s charming wife, Princess: "It´s a tour with family in mind from behind" says the cute and willing member of the distaff side and wife of three months.