Laugh Tracks in the Dust 2-15-10
I’ve been writing this column for both fun and money for more than 35 years, but never have I had a happy reader send me any cold hard folding money – at least until recently.
That’s when I went to the mailbox and found a letter from Tom S., an 85-year-old reader in Cheyenne, Wyo. In Tom’s letter were two $2 bills and a cute little birthday poem. Here’s how it happened.
A couple weeks ago, Tom went to the trouble to find my home telephone number and gave me a courtesy call. In the midst of our conversation and getting to know each other, I casually mentioned that I wuz gonna turn 67 years old on Jan. 30, and that my good wife, ol’ Nevah Yield, would be 65 on the same day.
At the end of our conversation, Tom requested my snail mail address and I gave it to him. The letter/birthday card (with cash) arrived at Damphewmore Acres a few days later.
In addition to the two $2 bills, Tom was kind enuf to include a short little birthday poem. It read:
Money is short.
Times are hard.
So, here’s your homemade
and Happy Everything.
Tom said he hoped the $2 bills would bring ol’ Nevah and me some good luck. Well, it did. We consider ourselves lucky to have a new-found friend like Tom!
Another reader, ol’ Dun Beenhadd, is a highly traveled rancher and he’s really dissatisfied with all the new security precautions at airports. After a recent convention trip to San Antonio, he e-mailed me his solution to the airport security problem.
Here’s Dun’s proposed solution to end all the controversy over full-body scanners in airports: He says airports should have thick solid-steel booths at all the entrances to the airport. All passengers and employees must step into a booth and close the door behind them before they can gain entry to the airport. They will not be X-rayed. But, a device in the booth will detonate any explosive device the passenger may have on his/her person.
Dun said it would be a win-win for everyone, and there would be no social upheaval about racial profiling either! You either go through or blow up!
Ol’ Nevah and I had a little spat recently. I got pretty mad over it and then got madder when I noticed how calm and collected she wuz.
“You never argue with me when I get mad at you,” I stated. “How do you always control your anger so well?”
“I clean the toilet in our bathroom,” she replied.
“How does that help?” I persisted.
“I use your toothbrush,” she said with an air of satisfaction and a tone of finality.
A Texas cowboy walked into a New York City bank and asked for the loan officer. He told the loan officer that he was going to Paris for the first-ever European Redneck Festival and would be gone for two weeks. He needed to borrow $5,000 for the trip, but he was not a depositor in that bank.
The bank officer told him that the bank would need some form of security for the loan, so the redneck Texan handed over the keys to a new Ferrari. The car was parked on the street in front of the bank. He produced the title and everything checked out. The loan officer agreed to hold the car as collateral for the loan and apologized for having to charge 12 percent interest.
Later, the bank’s president and its officers all enjoyed a good laugh at the Texan’s expense for using a $250,000 Ferrari as collateral for a $5,000 loan. An employee of the bank then drove the Ferrari into the bank’s private underground garage and parked it.
Two weeks later, the Texan returned, repaid the $5,000 and the interest of $23.07.
The loan officer said, “Sir, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out on Dun and Bradstreet and found that you are a multimillionaire oilman and rancher. What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?”
The good ol’ Texas boy replied, “Where else in New York City can I park my Ferrari for two weeks for only $23.07 and expect it to be here when I return?”
It’s hard to outsmart a redneck.
I don’t want to outsmart myself by writing this column so long it makes you mad, so I’ll close with these patriotic words from former vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin: “[I] believe that the best of America is not in Washington, D.C. The best of America is in these small towns, and in these wonderful little pockets of what I call the real America.”
Have a good ‘un.
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