I was delighted to see my article about the 60’s craze for ‘Elephant Jokes’, published in the April edition of The Oldie. I’m a subscriber to the magazine and pleased to be included in their regular slot, ‘Memory Lane.’
Elephant jokes went like this-
Question- How can you tell there is an elephant under your bed?
Answer- Your nose is touching the ceiling.
You’ll get into it. Try another-
Question- Why are elephants big, grey and wrinkled?
Answer- Because if they were small, white and smooth, they’d be aspirins.
Now your getting the idea-
Amusing jokes, but it’s no joke if you get the wrong side of a real elephant. When I worked in Africa, I was on safari and set off with a pal in his Saab saloon for a ‘game drive’ in the late afternoon. We drove the dusty roads taking in the wonderful wild life until the sun was dropping at about 6.30pm.
As we headed back toward the lodge, the track wound through a wooded area where we came across a bull elephant tearing at the trees.
He had his back to us and stood close to the track. We stopped and watched him for a while as he demolished branches, before we decided to move on.
The engine fired, but the car shuddered and stalled. It was like something was blocking the wheels. Ian opened the window and took a look.
‘You won’t believe this. We’ve got a puncture in a rear tyre.’
We turned to the elephant about twelve feet away. These gentle creatures generally live and let live, that is until distressed. Then the trunk comes up, the ears flap and they charge.
We were reluctant to turn our backs on him to get down and change a wheel. In the time it took he could have finished dinner and taken an interest in us. The only sensible option was to sit it out until he moved on.
Ten minutes, sat in a car with the daylight fading can feel a long time. He hadn’t paused his demolition work and there was plenty of foliage left to eat.
When impatience got the better of us, we got out and crept to the boot. So far so good, he was still noshing. We whispered our simple plan; I would keep watch while Ian started the wheel change.
My eyes stayed on the dusty giant, but I twitched at each clink of the tools. If he turned, he would be so close we would have to scramble into the car and leave the tools behind. I tried to forget the stories I’d heard of elephants crushing cars.
A quick look showed that Ian had the wheel off. I took it and hefted it into the boot. Ian had grabbed the spare and was fitting it on the studs. We froze when the elephant paused and let out a loud sigh. He ignored us as Ian reached for the wheel brace. We were getting there; would the elephant turn and send us scampering before the job was done?
I’d aged a bit by the time Ian stood up. We grabbed the kit and threw it into the boot. Slammed the lid and dropped into our seats.
Back at the lodge, bathed in flood light, beside the slow muddy river, we enjoyed a few of the local ‘Tusker’ beers as we told the girls our own Elephant Joke.
Copyright © Ken Tracey 2025
Ken Tracey 