Milo Yield: Laugh Tracks in the Dust 2-25-13
Well, I’ve spent the last two weeks on a self-indulgent, nostalgic trip back through the past 70 years, so this week it’s time to get back to the funny paper. So, I’ll start with this story.
A feisty little ranching widow insisted on maintaining her family’s ranch, and living independently, despite her advancing years that had slowed her step and bowed her back a bit.
One day she went to the local farm supply store and threw some cans of cat food into her shopping cart. When she arrived at the checkout counter, she put one can of cat food on the counter and told the little young clerk curtly, “I got 10 cans just like ’em. Ring ’em up!”
The checkout girl looked closely at the little old ranch woman’s wizened face and said, “I’m sorry, but we cannot sell you cat food without proof that you have a cat. A lot of old people buy cat food to eat, so the management wants proof that you are buying cat food for your cat.”
So, the little ranch lady grumpily went home, picked up her cat and brought it back to the store. The store sold her the cat food.
The next week, she tried to buy 10 cans of dog food at the store. Again the young cashier said “I’m sorry, but we cannot sell you dog food without proof that you have a dog. A lot of old people buy dog food to eat, so the management wants proof that you are buying the dog food for your dog.”
So, after berating the clerk in public, the ranch lady stomped out of the store, went home and brought in her Border Collie. She then was able to buy the dog food.
Well, the next week when she came to the farm supply store, the little old ranch lady wuz ready. She brought a cardboard box with a hole in the lid into the store with her. Then when she reached the checkout counter, the first item she put on the counter wuz the box with a hole in the lid.
When the little young clerk looked at her questionably, the little old rancher lady said, “Honey, I’ve got some calf scours medicine in this cart, but I didn’t want to bring in a scoury calf to prove to you I own one. So, do you want to sell me the scours medicine or stick your finger in the hole in that box so I can prove to you that I have calves with scours at home? Oh, I also have three rolls of toilet paper in my cart.”
The little old ranch lady made her point and from that day on no cashier at the store ever questioned her purchases.
Now a scientific report with a rural edge to it. They found about 200 dead crows on a bridge near Topeka, Kan., and there was concern that they may have died from avian flu. So, they requested that a bird pathologist from Kansas State University’s vet college come to examine the remains of all the crows. Upon examination, he confirmed the problem was definitely NOT avian flu, to everyone’s relief.
In addition, he determined that the crows had been killed when eating road kill on the bridge. He also noted that 98 percent of them had been killed by impact with trucks and only two percent were killed by an impact with a car.
So, the puzzled state then hired an ornithological behaviorist from the University of Kansas, since the school’s mascot is a Jayhawk, to determine the disproportionate percentage for truck kills versus car kills.
He made his decision in short order. The noted bird behaviorist explained that when crows eat road kill, they always set-up a look-out crow in a nearby tree to warn of impending danger.
His conclusion was that all the lookout crows could say “cah,” but none could say “truck.” I might add that the bridge was over the Kaw River.
A friend from Kansas City sent me this e-mail on Valentine’s Day. It said, “And God promised men that good and obedient wives would be found in all corners of the earth. Then he made the earth round … and he laughed and laughed and laughed.”
And, my wise Uncle Alfalfa called the other day to discuss the gun control issue that’s got rural America into an uproar.
Uncle Al thought it’s a bit unusual that Congress can put together a gun ban bill in just days, but it hasn’t submitted a federal budget in four years as required by federal law.
Then, when I asked him if he thought a gun buy-back would work in rural America, he laughed and said that participating in a gun buy-back to control violence is like having yourself castrated because you believe that the neighbors have too many kids. I told you Uncle Al wuz wise.
You’ve probably had fully enuf of this drivel for this week, so I’ll close with some wise words about birds. David Herbert Lawrence said, “I never saw a wild bird feel sorry for itself.” And, Charlotte Bronte said, “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.”
I am, too, so far. Have a good ’un. ❖