May 16th, 2013
After opening the service in our small college chapel with the usual formalities, our guest speaker, an old man with a weathered face stepped to the podium. He wasn’t smiling as he began. “Most of us,” he said, “have moss growing on our butts.”
There was a collective, gasp from the conservative faculty and student body. I am certain the word “butt” had never been uttered within the walls of that little chapel. One of the deans rose halfway from his metal folding chair—then sat back down.
May 14th, 2013
If a little is good, a lot has to be better, right? Wrong! Want proof?
An Ambien might put you to sleep for the night. Six Ambien could result in a very long dirt nap!
Lifting weights can build muscle. Lifting too much weight can tear muscle.
A table spoon of castor oil is a laxative. A bottle of castor oil is a national security issue. I know! I drank a bottle as a child.
One final example……
May 9th, 2013
I was on a flight from Harrisburg to Cincinnati. After a short delay, the flight attendant announced we were going to be a few minutes late because of paperwork.
Ten minutes later I looked out the window to see people cleaning bugs off of the wings with paper towels. Could this be what they meant by paperwork?
After another five minutes, the pilot announced that the plane had flown through a cloud of bugs the night before and now that the bugs were gone, we would have to wait while the ground crew filled out paperwork on the bugs.
We left thirty minutes late. I have some questions.
May 7th, 2013
As we were driving to our beautiful mountain getaway in Colorado. My then three-year-old granddaughter, Jadyn, asked where our cabin was located.
I said, ” Our place is located right where those five lines come down the mountain and join at the bottom.” I pointed to the lines on the mountain which are actually the avalanche shoots you see in the accompanying picture.
“Can you see them?” She stared intently at the mountain for several minutes. Then the following conversation took place.
April 30th, 2013
One of my first memories is of the day I waddled into the room where my parents were entertaining people for dinner, wearing a low slung, loaded diaper and desperately needing help.
I cleared the room!
A moment like that might make a person avoid dinner parties the rest of his life.
On my kindergarten report card, the teacher wrote “Ken is a pleasant boy.” I didn’t read cursive very well and I thought it said, “Ken is a peasant boy.”
A moment like that could make a person very fashion conscious for the rest of his life.