Hello! "How-ar-ya?" The States of the Union

Some of the family read this about a year ago, and you couldn't believe that I actually wrote it. You’ve all heard the familiar play on words, "How are ya?" followed by "Don’t know, I’ll ask-a" and something about a "new brass key" to resemble the state names of Hawaii, Alaska and Nebraska. The following story, while perhaps not as obvious, contains the names of all fifty states phonetically. Your local dialect may alter recognition of states, however reading the story aloud will make it easier to "hear" them. See if you can find them all the first time you read it and have fun!!! When you give up, click on the comments and the story will come up with the answers highlighted. Feel free to send your friends a link or to email it around the world....
I owe a bunch of thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Hippie who came to the park and saw that if I’d a hoe it wouldn’t be enough, add a sword or a gun and a lot more could get done. Instead, I’ve been washing tons of mud off of my old and my new Yorkshire hogs. Cooking pork is making me squirmish again. I have been told that most pigs would dull a Wearever knife on any six weekdays, but they say you can slice one with a whisk on Sunday. But on most farms, the air a zone away is sweeter smelling. When you look to the north, the coat of paint on the barn stinks, and to the south, the coat of fur on the dogs smells wet. Al is our good neighbor. We should ask Al if foreign yards are as bad. He comes over often to borrow tools or even a brass cup of bolts that I have when he can’t find his own. We have nails and screws in cans us neighbors share when we need them. It’s better than going in town to buy them new. Mix a cold drink with it and you have a block party. A large glass of iced tea or a mini soda will do just fine. I’d go inside before burning up, but Al always says "Come on, tan a little longer!" I usually respond with "You taunt me!" But somehow he can tuck even a change of clothes in his coveralls. Al will pull out a shirt with a collar, add a tie and he’s ready for a funeral. He’ll show up with a huge mass of chew, sets himself down with his dog and listens to the radio with me. "That new amp sure sounds great" he’d say. "Oh, hi ol’ boy," I’d say to Rusty. Rusty likes to chase birds, especially homing pigeons. Why homing pigeons? Al says it keeps him from getting lost. "By George, ya could have something there," I’d say. Seems any road I land on leads to Al’s place. But at least Al treated his dog humanely. Not like his woman. She was thin and had a raspy voice, talked a bit funny and had earned a nickname of "Wheezy." She’s the newest virgin ya ever met. Some of the things Anna would say didn’t make much sense. (Can etiquette have anything to do with it?) I thought she played tennis, see she had a good arm, if you know what I mean. But she’d say, (if the wind blew "Wheezy Anna" to the north), "Care!" A line of bull. And if it blew her south, "Care!" I’ll line a doctor up to see her soon. Maybe he can answer some questions. Al would ask me stuff like when, where, how come? "Hey, why ya askin’ me? I’ll ask a professional," I’d answer. Then he’d hit the floor at a high rate of speed for some reason. To Anna I’d say, "Excuse me Ms., you’re a wife of this man, correct?" In her raspy, wheezy voice she’d say, "No, I’m-a all-a by ma-self." By now, Al was looking pale and a little ill, annoying me to no end. His blood veins became so thin we called him "pencil-vein," ya know. It wasn’t very kind, but I’d rather grab a camera, land a big win at the horse track, and go shopping for a new Chevrolet. Any Chevy, but never Monte Carlos. They are too sporty for Al and Anna at this age. But any other Chevy protects us all from bad weather, as do the trees. "It’s too windy," Anna would say and a good sturdy tree is either Maple or Oak. "La Homa" or "La Casa" is the Spanish name for our place. But I’m on the verge, in your next story to trade in the pigs for cows and see what happens. My eyes have seen that either kind of animal sleeps in the nude. Did yours see it any differently?

...an original by Lynn Brenn of "Oak La Homa"