Milo Yield: Laugh Tracks 6-25-12 |

Milo Yield: Laugh Tracks 6-25-12

I’ve got another true story this week that continues the theme from last week that the use of motorized vehicles in the cattle bizness causes just as many funny stories to happen as during the days when horses and hooves were the main mode of working and transporting bovine critters.

Let’s review what happened recently to the members of a ranching family where father and son are both in the beef biz and frequently assist each other moving and working cattle. On this day they are caravanning two gooseneck trailers of cattle from one pasture to another, with “Younger” in the lead and “Elder” bringing up the drag on a hilly, dusty road in ranch country.

Suddenly, Elder realizes that his trailer has a flat tire, so he phones Younger on his cell phone and Younger stops to help change the tire. But, before they jack up the vehicle to fix the flat, Younger suggests to Elder that it might be wiser and safer to apply the truck’s emergency brake so the rig will stay in place – and he starts to do just that.

“Naw! Don’t do that,” Elder says. “I never use that emergency brake and, if you set it, there’s a good chance it’ll stick and we can’t get it unstuck.”

Unfazed, Younger goes ahead and sets the emergency brake with some comment to Elder that it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

So, together they put on the spare tire and Younger gets into his rig and leaves Elder to follow. But, after he gets a half-mile down the road, Younger gets another cell phone call from Elder who has some choice words about the emergency brake sticking and not releasing and that he can’t move his rig.

So, Younger finds a place to turn around and returns to the scene to find Elder underneath his truck, furiously pounding around the emergency brake cable. He makes some comment to Younger about, “I told you not to set the brake.”

Meanwhile, Younger has surveyed the scene and hops into Elder’s truck and pulls on the emergency brake release. It disengages as easy as pie and he yells out to Elder, “Get out from under the truck. It’ll go just fine now.”

When Elder emerges from under the truck – red-faced and sweating, he questions Younger, “What did you do to get it unstuck?”

To which Younger smiled and replied, “I pulled on the emergency brake release, not the hood release. Better slam your hood down tight before you drive off.”

The next morning at coffee, upon hearing the story retold for everyone to enjoy, some wag observed, “Not only does Elder not use his emergency brake very often, but apparently he doesn’t open the hood of his truck very often either.”

I hate to admit it, but this story sounds exactly like something that could have happened to me, since I’m the epitome of a non-mechanical person, but, I’m sure happy to report, it wasn’t me!


I heard about a farmer who started his pickup one morning and cut the tail off his wife’s favorite cat which had been snoozing on the engine under the hood.

In desperation, he grabbed up the cat, put the detached tail into a bag of ice, and headed to town to see if the cat could be made as good as new.

But, he didn’t head for the veterinarian, he headed for the local Walmart Super Center. Why Walmart, you ask? 

Well, because the farmer knew Walmart is the biggest and best “re-tailer” in the world.


I never in my life thought I’d see the day when Kansas grew so little grain sorghum that I couldn’t buy – at any feed store I chose – all the whole milo I need for my little chicken flock.

But, that’s what happened. Growing corn, soybeans and wheat is apparently so much more profitable that very few farmers grow grain sorghum any more. 

Sacked whole milo is literally as scarce as hens’ teeth. I know only one place where I can buy bagged milo and that’s at a little farmer’s CO-OP 35 miles from Damphewmore Acres.


Made a sad trip to the Dallas, Texas, area last week to attend a memorial service for a close friend and grand lady whose friendship goes back to attending a one-room country school with me in the late 1940s and early 50s. 

I brightened up the return trip by visiting with an old high school classmate in Bridgeport, Texas, whom I hadn’t seen in years. The crops look good in north Texas and throughout Oklahoma. It’s not as dry there as it is around Damphewmore Acres. Oh, and the farmers are still growing grain sorghum in Texas.


That’s sufficient grist for your mental mill for this week, so I’ll close with some words of wisdom passed along to me by my friend Rollin Birdz. Rollin said he could recite to me a Bible verse about baseball.

I challenged him on that and he promptly put me in my proper place by saying, “And in the Big Inning …”

Have a good ‘un.

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