"If we could do it all again, would we?"
Would
you? I sure would. The sixties were the absolute best of times and
the worst of times for me. Take me back, please. And a warm welcome
once again to you all. I trust the intervening week has been kind to
all of you.
Hi,
Murphy, the Boston terrier here. I just wanted to bounce in here for
a second. My male human has me all confused. I had been led to
believe that the name they bestowed on me was “Murphy”. In the
past weeks though it seems as though it has now become “Stopthat”.
Okay, so after a while I stopped responding to Murphy and started
coming to them when they called “Stopthat”. It seemed about every
two minutes I was running to one or the other human. I mean it has
really tired me out. The past couple of days the female human has
started calling me “Getbackhere”. So I am now officially
confused. Is it Murphy, Stopthat, or Getbackhere? Just let me know,
please.
Happy
2 days after Father's Day to all the dads out there. When I was in
high school, I took my little brother to Des Moines where I purchased
a puppy for my Dad's birthday. Queenie, his previous dog had passed
and I felt he needed a replacement. I may have been the only one to
think that however. From the time I was born, we always had a dog on
the farm. Our dogs were outside dogs. My mom would not allow one paw
to cross the threshold inside. I will never forget that day. Baldy,
my little brother, and I waltzed into the kitchen with this
scared-to-death puppy. We put him down on the floor, he took 2 steps
and proceeded to relieve himself. Mom was shocked for the lack of a
better word. Somehow “Sparky” endeared himself to Mom and he
became our first and only dog allowed in the house.
Sparky
became my dad's best friend. He went everywhere with my dad. He rode
in the tractors and combine. He went to the field and stayed there
all day, regardless of the temperature. Mom would bring lunch out to
the field for my dad. She also packed a sandwich for Sparky. Sparky
would take the sandwich, run off and bury it for a future time.
Sparky planted thousands of sandwiches. Sparky was a protector of the
family as well as one of the family. He was invited to sit at the
kitchen table at meal time. He would sit on the chair, he would
follow the conversation around the table. Mom would give him a plate
with food on it and sit it in front of him but Sparky made no attempt
to eat it at the table. When we were done with the meal, the plate
would get set on the floor and only then would Sparky eat it. One of
the fondest memories of the sixties on the farm.
Let
me get to some neighborly news. Life on Hysteria Lane took a turn to
excited this past week. Unbeknown to me but somewhat of “keeping up
with the Jones” competition has sprung up. Over the years I have
related some of my house maintenance activities and the troubles that
ensue. Well, last year I took the plunge and had my asphalt driveway
replaced with concrete. This did not occur normally, however. As the
concrete guy put the finishing touches on the fresh cement, the wind
picked up and leaves from my ash tree began falling in the concrete.
He and my wife did the best they could but we have the only driveway
on Hysteria Lane with a leaf pattern in their driveway.
I was
unaware of any kind of rivalry until this week. Ms. E, one of the
Hotties, who lives across the street from me, replaced her asphalt
with concrete and used the very same concrete guy. She does NOT have
a single leaf imprint on it. Makes me sick. Not to sit still for this
one upmanship, daughter Debbie, the younger elder, decided we needed
to rip decades old shrubs out from the front of the house and replace
with neat stuff. Good I thought and we began on Saturday. Ms. E
noticed this, of course, and made inquiry as to what we were doing.
Having explained it, finding out about the rivalry thing, she
proceeded to removed everything from her garage and clean it. Thus
throwing the onus onto me to clean my garage. Oh, she is also going
to update her shrubs. Not sure if this will ever end.
The
billboard top 10 for this week in 1965 was: 1. I can't help Myself,
2. Mr. Tambourine Man, 3. Wooly Bully, 4. Crying in the Chapel, 5.
Back In My Arms Again, 6. Wonderful World, 7. Help Me Rhonda,
8.Engine Engine #9, 9. For Your Love, 10. Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte.
My
current wife and I were sitting at the supper table last night. Hash
browns, battered cod, and peas. That reminds me, why are we always
stuck with “battered” fish. Can't they harvest fish that have not
be abused in any way? I had just eaten a forkful of peas (3 peas)
when out popped “Whatever happened to our sexual relations?” I
about choked when she replied, “I don't know. I don't even think we
got a Christmas card from them this year.” There's your sign.
I was
in my front yard mowing the grass when a blonde neighbor came out of
her house and went straight to the mailbox. She opened it then
slammed it shut stormed back in the house. A little later she came
out of her house again went to the mail box and again opened it,
slammed it shut again. Angrily, back into the house she went. Just as
I was getting ready to edge the lawn by the sidewalk, she came out
again, marched to the mailbox, opened it and then slammed it closed
harder than ever. Completely puzzled by her actions I went over and
asked her, "Is something wrong?" To which she replied,
"There certainly is!" My stupid new computer keeps saying,
"You've Got Mail."
The
only cow in a small Iowa town stopped giving milk. The people did
some research and found that they could buy a cow just across the
state line in Wisconsin for $200. They bought the cow from Wisconsin
and the cow was wonderful. It produced lots of milk all of the time,
and the people were pleased and very happy. They decided to acquire a
bull to mate with the cow to produce more cows like it. They would
never have to worry about their milk supply again. They bought the
bull and put it in the pasture with their beloved cow. However,
whenever the bull came close to the cow, the cow would move away. No
matter what approach the bull tried, the cow would move away from the
bull and he could not succeed in his quest. The people were very
upset and decided to ask the Vet, who was very wise, what to do. They
told the Vet what was happening. "Whenever the bull approaches
our cow, she moves away. If he approaches from the back, she moves
forward. When he approaches her from the front, she backs off. An
approach from the side, she walks away to the other side." The
Vet thought about this for a minute and asked, "Did you by
chance, buy this cow in Wisconsin?" The people were dumbfounded,
since no one had ever mentioned where they bought the cow. "You
are truly a wise Vet," they said. "How did you know we got
the cow in Wisconsin?" The Vet replied with a distant look in
his eye, "My wife is from Wisconsin."
If
I can make at least one person smile, or laugh till they leak, then
my day was not wasted. Now, until we meet again. -TA!
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