Ol’ Nevah and I had a BIG pleasant surprise last week when old friends from Iowa, Mr. and Mrs. Leevin Winter, stopped by Damphewmore Acres for a visit on their extended trip to Apache Junction, Ariz., where they will spend December through March in warm weather.
When I say BIG, what I mean is that our friends showed up in a huge Suncruiser RV bus-type motor home, towing a Jeep behind it. With just a little improvising we found ample room to park their motor home.
Then we spent the next two days catching up on a whole host of subjects ranging from family to national and world affairs. On Veteran’s Day we took a 100-mile excursion explaining the Flint Hills to them.
The following day we went to Fort Riley, Kan., in Junction City, where we visited two military museums on base. One museum wuz about the history of the U.S. Cavalry from the Revolutionary War to the modern Army. The second museum wuz about the history of the Army’s “Big Red One” Infantry Division. Both were interesting and, I have to sadly report, ol’ Nev and I had never taken the time to visit either one.
It’s a good thing we get out-of-state visitors who “force” us to appreciate sites and sights in Kansas that we never get around to ourselves. We spent the evenings playing cards, laughing, eating well and savoring some liquid refreshments.
I’ve gotten in on three hunts of some of our pen-raised quail and the first two were excellent. However, the third hunt turned out to be a bust. It wuz dry and windy and our bird dogs simply could not smell anything that day. After a futile hour, we hung it up to wait for a day with better scenting conditions.
Recently ol’ Nev and I traded used cars. We ended up with another Buick, this time a black Lucerne. Since it’s mostly ol’ Nev’s car, and since it’s black, I laughed and told her that she just acquired another perpetual cleaning job.
A friend in Washington — the state not the seat of national goofiness — sent me a little historical story about the automobile and truck industry that may interest a few of you “gearheads.”
Back in 1946 on a hot summer day in Detroit, the four Goldberg brothers, Lowell, Norman, Hiram, and Max, invented and developed the first automobile air-conditioner.
The four brothers walked into old man Henry Ford’s office and sweet-talked his secretary into telling him that four gentlemen were there with the most exciting innovation in the auto industry since the electric starter. Henry was curious and invited them into his office.
They refused and instead asked that he come out to the parking lot to their car. They persuaded him to get into the car, which was about 130 degrees, turned on air conditioner, and cooled the car off immediately.
Old man Ford got very excited and invited them back to the office, where he offered them $3 million for the patent.
The brothers refused, saying they would settle for $2 million, but they wanted recognition by having a label, “The Goldberg Air-Conditioner,” on the dashboard of each car in which it was installed.
Now old man Ford was more than just a little anti-Semitic, and there was no way he was going to put the Goldberg’s name on two million Fords. They haggled back and forth for about two hours and finally agreed on $4 million and that just their first names would be shown.
And so to this day, all Ford air conditioners show — “Lo, Norm, Hi and Max” — on the controls.
OK, you can quit chuckling over that pun now.
I think most of us old-timers know that the quality of education we got in one-room country schoolhouses was usually excellent. With that in mind, here’s a little joke Colorado friends sent to me:
“I’ve just had the most awful time,” said a 1940s country boy to his friends in town. “First I got angina pectoris, then arteriosclerosis. Just as I was recovering, I got psoriasis. Then she gave me hypodermics, and to top it all, tonsillitis was followed by appendectomy.”
“Wow! How did you pull through?” sympathized his friends.
“I don’t know,” the boy replied. “Toughest spelling test I ever had.”
Since I used the long air-conditioning pun in this column, I’ll close with a few words of but observation about puns. Edgar Allan Poe said, “Of puns it has been said that those who most dislike them are those least able to tell them.” And, comedian Fred Allen said, “Hanging is too good for a man who makes puns; He should be drawn and quoted.” And, one John Oliver said, “I think puns are not just the lowest form of wit, but the lowest form of human behavior.”
Have a good ’un. ❖