Laugh Tracks in the Dust 10-19-09
If you’re eating supper, you better put this column aside until you’re finished. My good friends from New Mexico, Mr. and Mrs. Albie Kirkee, recently visited ol’ Nevah and me at Damphewmore Acres. We had a great time eating, playing cards, fishing, and telling stories – both true and untrue.
Well, this is a true story and one with a rather short, but pungent, punch line. The Kirkees have some kinfolks in Ohio who have several small children, one of which is a 4-year-old son.
It seems that the youngster started using the word diarrhea on a regular basis. Finally, one of the parents asked the innocent child, “Do you even know what diarrhea is?”
The boisterous child confidently replied, “Yep. It’s poop with juice!”
As the late TV host Art Linkletter used to say on his program: “Kids say the darndest things.”
A week or so ago ol’ Nevah surprised me by buying me, not one, but two, sets of sweat pants for winter – both camouflage patterns, each different.
When I asked her about such an open display of generosity, she grinned and replied: “It’s so I can’t see you sleeping each evening in your easy chair.”
The hand-written letters from loyal readers have begun to pile up (it’s a real small pile) so I’d best attend to them in this column.
From Rocky Lantiller in Lakewood, Colo., comes this Swen and Ole story that Rocky believes need recycling. Since this is the age of recycling, I agree. Here’s the story:
Back in the 1930s, Swen and Ole drove to the local lumberyard in Boyceville, Wis., Swen went inside to do business while Ole waited outside in the cold with the team and the wagon.
Swen found the manager and said, “Ole and I need 300 4-by-2s.”
The manager asked, “Don’t you mean 2-by-4s?”
“Yust a minute,” Swen said, “I’ll go ask Ole.”
When he got back from his Ole consultation, Swen told the manager, “Ya’, shore. Ole said
2-by-4s are what ve need.”
Then the manager asked, “How long do you want them?”
A perplexed Swen replied, “Don’t know. I’ll go ask Ole.”
When Swen returned, he told the manager, “Ole said ve’re need dem for a long time ’cause we’re gonna build a cow shed with ’em!”
And in a letter postmarked in Denver comes this story from K. K.:
Milo, I thought you’d enjoy this experience I had when I was teaching school back in the 1980s. I’d been listening to the lady teachers in the teachers’ lounge gripe about their husbands not showing them enough affection and loving them enough.
That got me to thinking about how I’d been neglecting my long-suffering wife, so I decided not to let the same thing happen in our marriage. So, I went home one day and spontaneously hugged my wife and gave her a great big kiss and told her how much I loved her.
Well, imagine my surprise when she burst into tears on the spot. “What’s the matter?” I asked her innocently enough.
“Oh,” she sobbed. “This has been the worst day of my life. Our son lit a firecracker on the bus and had to walk home. Our other son had a temperature of 103 degrees, and I had to take him to the hospital emergency room, and now THIS – you come home drunk!”
And, from ol’ Ian. A. Kowmilker in Mountain Grove, Mo., comes this letter:
I’ve got a strange experience with wild critters to tell you about. I finished chopping sorghum just before dark on a nearby 80 acres I rent. I went home and did the milking, scraped the barn, and then thought I’d get a headstart on the next day by walking back to the field and driving the tractor and chopper home.
It was a crisp and starry night with no moonlight, so I put a flashlight into my pocket. It’s about a 3/4-mile hike, and I was about two-thirds of the way to the field and wasn’t using the flashlight because I know that walk like the back on my hand. Suddenly, I got this I know distinct feeling I was being watched.
So, I pulled the flashlight out of my pocket and turned it on. All I could see was flashing eyes and teeth not 10 feet from me and all around me. Seems I’d walked right into a pack of coyotes. That unnerved me a bit and I didn’t know what to do but turn off the light again and keep walking. The coyotes disappeared as quietly as they’d appeared, but, boy, was I glad to reach the tractor. I guess I smelled like the wrong end of a dairy cow to be a coyote dinner.
Well, I’ll be on the wrong end of your patience if I continue this column much longer. After a few weeks of dry weather, today it’s raining a nice gentle rain. Good for the planted wheat, the fall pastures, and to give the farmers a day to recoup from day and night harvesting.
So, I’ll close for this week with these patriotic words from retired Gen. Colin Powell: “The chief condition on which, life, health and vigor depend on, is action. It is by action that an organism develops its faculties, increases its energy, and attains the fulfillment of its destiny.”
Have a good action-filled week.
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