(This story was initially posted as Musical Fruit on April 27, 2020).

Beans, beans, the musical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot, the more you toot, the better you feel, so, eat your beans at every meal!

~Author unknown

That poem was a rite of passage that every kid learned. I’m referring to boys, not girls.

Passing gas, passing wind, and tooting are just a few nicknames for flatulence (farting).

For those who find this topic unsettling, please return to your rocking chair and rock and roll a little.

When I was a young lad, I used to belong to the 8^th Oshawa Sea Scouts. 

We were similar to regular scouting, but our hats and uniforms were completely different, making us unique.

We also learned a bit about boating and had a couple of large rowboats that held several rowers and a skipper.

The boats were stored in a shed at the Oshawa harbor.

However, this story isn’t about boating but about passing wind.  When you’re a young boy, you often try to ‘mirror’ what the older boys are doing – because they’re cool, and you aren’t even close to that level of coolness.

Oh, please don’t get me wrong.  Nobody had to teach me how to fart because it’s just a natural body function. 

Although I have never researched the subject, I believe that passing wind results from certain things we eat or drink.

Beans are at the top of the list.

It is caused by the high amount of oligosaccharides present in beans. Bacteria in the large intestine digest these sugars, producing carbon dioxide, hydrogen, and methane.

~ Wikipedia

However, I never ate beans, not even the green ones. 

Honestly, I have not eaten more than a forkful of pork ‘n beans in my entire life! 

Even that forkful was consumed over a long period. It was back when our parents forced us to eat everything on our plates.

They grew up during the Great Depression (the 1930s) and remember being hungry because there was no food.

In our family of eight, my mom would dish out everyone’s plate before we were called to the table. I can’t give you my exact reaction to my first taste of pork ‘n beans, but I remember that my parents made me sit at the table until I had finished eating everything on my plate.

The only thing I left was the nasty-tasting pork ‘n beans.

On the only night, I had to stay behind at the dinner table for not eating my pork ‘n beans, I remember taking one bean on my fork and then closing my eyes and grimacing as I chewed quickly before swallowing it.  And it was a long time that evening trying to eat those beans. 

Ma (my mom) finally gave in and let me leave the table.

Many years later, when my Ma and I talked about it, she confessed that she felt terrible watching me trying to eat the beans individually.

I was only served pork and beans that one time.

My mom always substituted another food for the beans.

Dad often complained that Ma spoiled me because she let me avoid eating beans.

She also knew I wouldn’t eat onions or peppers, period!

We brought our food from home when I was camping or hiking with the Sea Scouts.

We also carried pots and pans in our knack sacks, and we cooked our meals over an open campfire.

And many of my friends brought a can or two of pork ‘n beans.

Sharing a tent with four or five others was scary because farts are like snowflakes – no two farts are the same.  And that applies to both sound, duration, and fragrance. 

Boys at that age are impressed by whoever could let out the best in each category.  (I know middle-aged men who still brag about a memorable toot).

Danny, why are you writing about farting?  Are you that desperate to write that you could not find something more interesting to write about? ~ Spanky

Relax, Spanky. The best is yet to come. If this is too difficult to read, go back to reading your comic books.

Anyway, there is another thing about farting when you are a boy. 

If you were not able to muster up a fart – you could place your hand under your armpit and then begin pumping your arm up and down to mimic the sound.  And if your palms were a bit moist, you could impress your buddies even more!

At this point, I have probably lost all my female readers, but before you go, let me add this interesting tidbit of information.

It was not until my mid-teens that I learned that girls could also pass wind. I had thought that it was something only boys could do. I’ve always known that girls mature much younger than boys.

And now we get to the part of the story when things get grosser.

You probably should close your screen to what is about to follow on this page.

Consider yourself as warned.

The foulest, worst-smelling farts are ‘beer farts.’ 

The typical response from its victims is an immediate gasping for clean air; the farter usually has a smile that is beaming with pride.

I remember the worst, most embarrassing flatulence episode imaginable, one night at the Delta Hotel in Calgary.

It was a business trip, and several of us were present from the western region.

We had been entertaining a few of our customers from Saskatchewan, and we all had shared several pitchers of ice-cold draft beer.

On our return to the hotel that night, we got on to the elevator, and just as the door closed, one of my customers (Eric) let out a ten-second, non-stop, three-decibel fart that would melt the paint off a car; it was so foul-smelling. 

The elevator had already begun its ascent upwards to our floor when he had let it hit loose, and we were all gagging in disgust.

But then it got even weirder!

The elevator suddenly stopped, and the door opened, and two elderly couples entered the elevator.  I tried to jump out, but someone grabbed my arm and forced me to stay.

Talk about a humiliating experience!

I bet you were not expecting this type of story when you logged onto my site.

By the way, every word in this story is accurate – and Spanky can confirm it.

Stay safe. Be well. Laugh often.

Dedicated to Eric Knogler, Hudsy, and Spanky

I hope that my stories are a gift to your head and heart. 

Hugs,

Danny

Today’s tune from Danny’s library (purchased):

Loretta broke my heart in a letter
She told me she was leaving and her life would be better
Joan broke it off over the phone
After the tone, she left me alone
Jen said she’d never ever see me again
When I saw her again, she said it again
Jan met another man
Liza got amnesia; just forgot who I am
Felicity said there was no electricity
Emily, no chemistry
Fran ran; Bruce turned out to be a man
Flo had to go; I couldn’t go with the flow
Carol Brown just took a bus out of town
But I’m hoping that you’ll stick around

He doesn’t cook or clean.
He’s not good boyfriend material.
(Ooh, we can eat cereal)
You’ll lose interest fast; his relationships never last
(Shut up girlfriends from the past)
He says he’ll do one thing, and then he goes and does another thing
(Ooh
Who organized all my ex-girlfriends into a choir
And got them to sing?)
Ooh ooh… (who? who? mmmm shut up)
(Shut up girlfriends from the past)

Mimi will no longer see me.
Brittany, Brittany hit me.
Paula, Persephone, Stella, and Stephanie
There must be fifty ways that lovers have left me
Carol Brown just took a bus out of town

Love is a delicate thing; it could just float away on the breeze
(He said the same thing to me)
How can we ever know if I’m the right person in this world?
(That means he looks at other girls)
Love is a mystery; it does not follow rules
(This guy is a fool
He’ll always be a boy; he’s a man who never grew up)
I thought I told you to shut up
Mona, you told me you were in a coma
Tiffany, you said that you had an epiphany
Mm
Would you like a little cereal?
Who organized this choir of ex-girlfriends?
Was it you, Carol Brown?
Was it you, Carol Brown?

Carol Brown just took a bus out of town
But I’m hoping that you’ll stick around
Stick around
Stick around
Stick around
Stick around

Songwriters: Bret McKenzie, Jemaine Clement & James Bobin

Here’s what Danny is listening to now: These songs will make you smile today