I’ve got a friend, ol’ Soren Hyer, who owns a powered para-glider. Recently, one calm evening he fired up his glider and took me for a ride. My ride started a few minutes before sundown and the view from 1,000 feet or so was spectacular.

The Flint Hills looked like a gigantic golf course because the new grass was just a few inches tall. The sunlight reflected off the dozens of farm ponds sparkling below us. The cattle looked like ants.

We were flying about 35 miles per hour, so I had plenty of time to soak in the view. It’s amazing the new perspective you get on your community from such a low altitude and speed. I’m looking forward to my next ride in Soren’s para-glider.

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Thanks to a kind and generous reader for this funny story.

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A rural minister had all of his remaining teeth pulled and new dentures were being made.

The first Sunday, he gummed and “ouched” his way through a 10 minute sermon.

The second Sunday, he preached and grimaced only 20 minutes.

But, on the third Sunday, he preached one hour 25 minutes.

When asked about his lengthy sermon by some of his congregation, he responded:

“The first Sunday, my gums were

so sore, it hurt to talk. The second Sunday, my new dentures were hurting me a lot. The third Sunday, I accidentally grabbed my wife’s dentures … and I couldn’t shut up.”

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My old friend Jay Esse from Lakewood, Colo., penned this poem about the “wonder” of growing old. I’ll share it with you.

My Wonder Years

I wonder where I put the keys to my car.

I wonder where my glasses are.

I wonder why I came in here.

It wasn’t for coffee and I don’t drink beer.

I wonder where I lost my phone.

It was in my pocket when I came home.

I wonder why my knee is sore.

I wonder why I bumped it on the door.

I wonder the names of people

I’ve known all my life.

I wonder sometimes what’s

the name of my wife.

I guess my “Wonder Years”

are here to stay.

I hope others don’t notice,

oh Lord, I pray.

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If you don’t understand the humor in Jay’s poem, just wait a few decades, you will!

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Jay also mentioned a consumer complaint he has. He wished they put softer bristles on those long-handled brushes that everyone keeps beside their bathroom toilet bowls. His complaint: “’cause those stiff bristles really hurt!”

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Another reader, a Colorado crop farmer, ol’ Rocky Landtiller, sent me a couple of marital funnies. He writes that he said to his wife one day, “Dear, I don’t know how you can be so stupid and so beautiful at the same time.”

He said his wife responded: “Let me explain plainly and simply. God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me. God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you.”

Sounds to me like HE applied the same formula to most marriages.

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Rocky’s second story is about one of his neighbors. The neighbor asked his wife, “Why are married women usually heavier than single women?”

His long-suffering wife responded, “Single women come home from work, look in the refrigerator and then go to bed. Married women come home from work, finish their domestic chores, then look in the bed and go to the refrigerator.”

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By now I have probably chilled your sense of humor. So, I’ll close with a few words of wisdom about marriage. Physicist Albert Einstein said about marriage: “Women marry men hoping they will change. Men marry women hoping they will not. So each is inevitably disappointed.” And American writer Mark Twain adds these words: “Love seems the swiftest, but it is the slowest growth. No man or woman really knows what perfect love is until they have been married a quarter of a century.” 

Enuf’s enuf. Have a good ‘un.