Having a couple of days of minus 10 degrees temperatures, and windchill indexes so high (or should it be “low”) in the minuses that you hated to hear them, seldom produces anything even approaching humor on a farm or a ranch.
But my good friend Mocephus proved the above statement is not true in all cases. The frigid weather produced a laughable incident for Mo and no one got hurt or even inconvenienced too much.
Here’s what happened. Mo has two pickup trucks (just as I do) — one old beater for everyday use and a much better pickup for town and over-the-road driving.
Unlike me, Mo tries his best to keep his “good” truck clean inside and out. So, not long ago, to keep his “good” truck spotless inside, he acquired a strip of abandoned carpet about 2-feet wide and 8-feet long and rolled it along the length of the driver’s side of his pickup, which he keeps parked in his small machine shed. His intention wuz to wipe his boots on the carpet before he got into his truck.
The way he rolled the carpet out, the left-hand wheels of the pickup drove over the carpet, too, but still left plenty of room for Mo to wipe the dirt from his boots.
On the day the temps were around minus 10 all day, Mo and his son decided to drive to Emporia to pick up some items at the farm store and also eat a hot pizza for lunch. They warmed the truck up, both dutifully wiped their feet clean before entering the pickup and then Mo backed out of his garage and they headed to town.
They’d gone a few miles when they heard one loud “thump” emitting from the truck. Mo checked all the gauges and they were working properly, the motor was humming normally, so they decided they’d hit something in the road and drove onto highway 50, which was loaded with traffic, as it normally is.
After driving a few more miles, they heard another loud thump, but the truck wuz still driving normally so they kept driving. Mo said he noticed how friendly the drivers were in all the cars and trucks he met. A lot of them waved vigorously at him as they met him.
As they approached Emporia, the truck emitted a series of loud thumps and the boys decided they’d better check the situation out. So, they pulled safely onto a side road and exited the pickup to look.
What they found caused them both to erupt in laughter because what they found wuz Mo’s cleaning carpet wound neatly around the pickup’s front tire and frozen solidly in place — except for the tag end which had come loose and wuz banging around inside the tire well.
It didn’t take them long to figger out what happened. Mo recalled that during a recent day of thawing some meltwater had run into his machine shed. That water had soaked his carpet and the frigid weather had frozen it to the tire. When he’d backed out of his garage, the carpet neatly wound around the tire and stayed in place for the entire trip to town.
Mo laughed when he realized what a sight his truck must have been rolling along highway 50 at 60 mph with a 2-foot roll of carpet wound up on his left front tire.
Mo said it took quite a bit of hacking away to get the frozen carpet dislodged from his tire. All I can say is I wish I’d seen it in person.
Well, the day I’ve dreaded for a long time has finally arrived. After Jan. 1, our all-knowing federal government’s edict to quit manufacturing and selling incandescent light bulbs went into effect.
When I even think about the federal government controlling the kind of light bulbs I can buy, the back of my hillbilly neck gets hotter and redder than a Louisiana shrimp fisherman’s in August.
Makes me wish founding father Thomas Jefferson wuz here to eloquently speak his “limited-government-mind” on the subject to the President, the Congress, and the bureaucrats at the Environmental Protection Agency — plus rally the populace to oppose such governmental intrusion into our lives.
A young Wyoming cowboy walked into a crowded bar, waving his .45 caliber pistol with an eight-shot clip, and yelled, “Who in here has been slipping around with my fiancee behind my back?”
A voice from the darkened rear of the bar yelled back, “You need more ammo, cowboy!”
My old friend from Platte City, Mo., Canby Handy sent me an e-mail with a number of “adult truths” attached to it. I’ll close for this week with a few of those adult truths.
■ Sometimes I’ll look down at my watch three consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
■ I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.
■ I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least kind-of tired.
■ Bad decisions make good stories.
■ You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment when you know that you just aren’t going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.
That moment has arrived for me on this day. So, have a good ’un. ❖