As a driver eventually has to, I had to visit the Division of Motor Vehicles. The attendant was surprisingly chatty. We got started talking about awful driver’s license pictures. I loved it when she told me they post the really bad ones in their break room. Wouldn’t you love to see the worst of the worst?
Month: September 2024
Sauce for the Goose
It’s been more than fifty years and my brother Bill still has nose out of joint over a little goose bite that he suffered way back in first grade. Hard to imagine holding a grudge against poultry that long. Billy was Daddy’s shadow, making every step he made. Though I was normally with them, somehow I missed this day. Had I not discovered a note very much like this he wrote to his friend, Donnie, I’d never have learned of his misfortune.
On this particular day, Daddy and Uncle Dunc swapped lies over coffee on the high front porch of Uncle Dunc’s place while Billy played with the twins, Fats and Little Boy on the hard-packed clay underneath. Despite the descriptive names, I couldn’t tell the boys apart. The decrepit, unpainted house might have been sound at some point in the distant past, but it wouldn’t have withstood much of a windstorm now. The corners perched crazily on stacked piles of iron-ore rocks, oxidizing to dust in the weather. Chickens, ducks, and geese roamed freely over the yard and under the porch. We were warned to watch for snakes in the shadows under the porch, but a far greater danger was the ever-present foulness left behind by the numerous fowl pursuing insects into the shade.
Daddy called out to Billy, “Son, go get me a pack of Camels off the dash of my truck.”
Unhappily for Billy, as he trotted toward the truck on his mission, he made an attractive target for an aggressive gander patrolling the yard. Honking, the monster pursued Billy, chomping down on the backside of his jeans. As poor Billy fled, the goose hung on tightly and flogged him roundly. Of course, Daddy rescued him, but it must have seemed like it took forever, as the kids and adults all around him laughed at his misery. He came home sporting a big bruise and a lifelong dislike of geese.
What’s Important!
Share a lesson you wish you had learned earlier in life.
Wouldn’t it be a gift to be born knowing the opinion of one’s peers mattered little? So much of the angst of learning your way would be relieved. Often, a person wastes that time unlearning the basic rules learned as a child. Kindness, empathy, and decency may be discarded in pursuit of fun, friendship, and ambition. It’s good to mature and be authentic.
Mice Tales
I confess I once committed a grave sin. When my son was in the sixth grade, he had a science fair project. For once we planned ahead. His premise was “Sugar makes mice hyperactive.” We purchased eight white mice, dividing them into two cages. One group got sugar. The other didn’t. John monitored each groups activities for a few minutes daily.
There wasn’t much to watch. During the day, the mice mostly burrowed under the shredded paper in the cage. Some days later, it became abundantly clear there had been plenty going on under that shredded paper. Little mice started slipping through the wires of the cages to cavort around.
Horrified at the population explosion, I shut the experiment down. “These mice have to go! Hurriedly, we gathered up both cages of mice to put them outdoors till we came up with a solution. Fortunately, the babies scurried back to their mamas.
Providentially, a neighbor kid stopped by as we were pondering what to do. By this time John was thoroughly tired of the whole problem. “What are you gonna do with ’em?” he asked.
I don’t know but we can’t keep them in the house.” I answered.
Heaven smiled. “Can I have’em?” he asked.
I didn’t think twice. I didn’t tell him to call his mom. “John, help Stevie take these mice home.”
I hope I can one day be forgiven.
Irish Jokes
Irish men were playing poker when one of them played a bad hand and died…
The rest drew straws to see who would tell his wife. One man draws the shortest straw and goes to his friend’s house to tell the wife.
The man says to her, “Your husband lost some money in the poker game and is afraid to come home.”
The wife says, “Tell him to drop dead!” The man responds, “I’ll go tell him.”
What’s the difference between God and Bono?
God doesn’t wander around Dublin thinking he’s Bono.
There are only three kinds of men who don’t understand women…
Young men, old men, and middle-aged men.
You don’t want to press your luck.
The Irish gave the bagpipes to the Scots as a joke…
But the Scots haven’t got the joke yet.
The Irish way…
Now don’t be talking about yourself while you’re here. We’ll surely be doing that after you leave.
Favorite Foods
What are your favorite types of foods?
I love comfort foods. My favorite meal is home fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, small green lima beans and corn cooked together, and biscuits. Since I know it’s bad for me, I only cook that meal on special occasions. I also like brisket, marinated till tender, cooked at about 340 degrees till it’s fork tender. I suppose my favorite foods are home cooke. We rarely eat out since my cooking is to our taste.
Joke of the Day
One Sunday morning George burst into the living room and said, “Dad! Mom! I have some great news for you! I am getting married to the most beautiful girl in town. She lives a block away and her name is Susan. After dinner, George’s dad took him aside, “Son, I have to talk with you. Look at your mother, George. She and I have been married 30 years, she’s a wonderful wife and mother, but, she has never offered much excitement in the bedroom, so I used to fool around with women a lot.” Continue reading
Dog’s Life in Photos
Izzy’s bed in living room
Izzy on bed. As soon as I make bed he scrambles to put all his toys back on bed.
Croc giving me attitude. It’s 315 pm and he can’t eat till 400 pm.
Broken Arm
Grandma lived near the Gulf Coast with my Aunt Cookie, Uncle Riley and Cousin Barbie. The long drive to their house was covered in crushed shells rather than gravel. Apparently, it had just been resurfaced, making it a bit challenging to maintain your footing, especially in areas where shell filled deep holes.
Barbie was one lucky kid. An only child, she never had to share. Her parents had never introduced the concept. Any time one of us approached a toy, she threw a screaming fit. Aunt Cookie and Uncle Riley backed her up, wishing we weren’t so selfish as to make precious little Barbie scream.
I’d never seen so many toys as Barbie had in her toy room. There was no furniture, nor toy box, just wall-to-wall toys, piling up along every wall and extending up a couple of feet in all four corners. There wasn’t a bare spot on the floor. After we’d tossed things around a few minutes, we’d even have the door blocked. A great deal of the time, we’d just be on a treasure hunt, digging up one amazing find after another. Billy would hold an incredible toy he’d just excavated and Barbie would run shrieking to try wrench it from his grip. Meanwhile, I’d unearth another jewel, causing her to abandon her earlier quest. We usually kept her running and screaming till she exhausted herself. Cookie would give us “the look” and hustle poor caterwauling Barbie off for some cuddling and consolation time. Cookie was always trying to stave off Barbie’s athsma, While Barbie slept it off, we partied.
On this particular day, while our nemesis slept her fit off, we prowled around and found a tiny, red bike with training wheels stowed in the garden shed. The hard rubber wheels were barely six-inches in diameter. It still sported training wheels. It was barely used. Cookie and Uncle Riley were wildly overprotective of their little angel and likely hid it after Barbie tipped over a time or two.
Billy, an overgrown eight-year-old, was far too big for the minuscule bike, but he gave it his best shot. He knees nearly bumped his chin as he tried to pedal through the deep shells in the drive.He bogged down as he struggled to move. Grandpa sat on porch dourly watching. “Boy, you’ gonna fall off an’ break yore alarm!”
Billy didn’t bother to answer, just struggled on. Bless Pat, if he didn’t dip into a hidden hole, take a dive, and lay howling on the ground. Sure enough, his arm was broken. To this day, he’s disgusted.
Nutsrok 