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Tidbits
Posted On 07/09/2008 14:05:10
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Can you cry under water?
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How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of
just murdered?
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Why do you have to 'put your two cents in'... But it's only a 'penny for your thoughts'? Where's
that extra penny going to?
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Once you're in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity?
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Why does a round pizza come in a square box?
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What disease did cured ham actually have?
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How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put
wheels on luggage?
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Why is it that people say they 'slept like a baby' when babies wake up like every two hours?
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If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing?
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Why are you IN a movie, but you're ON TV?
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Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things
on the ground?
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Why do doctors leave the room while you change?
They're going to see you naked anyway.
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Why is 'bra' singular and 'panties' plural?
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Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent
human being would eat?
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If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a stupid song about him?
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Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?
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If the professor on Gilligan's Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in
a boat?
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Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours?
They're both dogs!
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If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn't he just buy dinner?
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If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made
from?
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If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?
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Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?
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Why did you just try singing the two songs above?
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Why do they call it an asteroid when it's outside the hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when
it's in your butt?
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Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog's face, he gets mad at you, but when you take
him for a car ride, he sticks his head out the window? 
Compiled by Sarah Brown, of the Tippecanoe County Public Library, Layfayete, IN, here are some book title requested by the general public: - Weekend at Morries (”Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Albom)
- A Race Car Named Desire (”A Streetcar Named Desire” by Tennesee Williams)
- Bonfire of the Vampires (”The Bonfire of the Vanities” by Tom Wolfe)
- Canary Road (”Cannery Row” by John Steinbeck)
- Cream and Berry Tales (”Canterbury Tales” by Geoffrey Chaucer)
- Diuretics (”Dianetics” by L. Ron Hubbard)
- Eat a Cat (”Etiquette” by Emily Post)
- Fire Hydrant 415 (”Fahrenheit 415″ by Ray Bradbury)
- Lame is Rob (”Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo)
- Satanic Nurses (”Satanic Verses” by Salman Rushdie)
- Tequila Mockingbird (”To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee)
- The Cat Who Shat (”The Cat in the Hat” by Dr. Seuss)
- The Sources, by some Roger (”Roget’s Thesaurus”)
Just got this from a friend.....Jackie
By Edna Ellison
I spent the week before my daughter's June wedding
running last-minute trips to the caterer, florist,
tuxedo shop, and the church about forty miles away.
As happy as I was that Patsy was marrying a good
Christian young man, I felt laden with
responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle . .
So many details, so many bills, and so little
time. My son Jack was away at college, but he said
he would be there to walk his younger sister down
the aisle, taking the place of his dad who had died
a few years before. He teased Patsy, saying he'd
wanted to give her away since she was about three
years old!
To save money, I gathered blossoms from several
friends who had large magnolia trees. Their
luscious, creamy-white blooms and slick green leaves
would make beautiful arrangements against the rich
dark wood inside the church.
After the rehearsal dinner the night before the
wedding, we banked the podium area and choir loft
with magnolias. As we left just before midnight, I
felt tired but satisfied this would be the best
wedding any bride had ever had! The music, the
ceremony, the reception - and especially the
flowers - would be remembered for years.
The big day arrived - the busiest day of my life -
and while her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress, her
fiancé Tim walked with me to the sanctuary to do a
final check. When we opened the door and felt a
rush of hot air, I almost fainted; and then I saw
them - all the beautiful white flowers were black.
Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night
had knocked out the air conditioning system, and on
that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and
died.
I panicked, knowing I didn't have time to drive back
to our hometown, gather more flowers, and return in
time for the wedding.
Tim turned to me. "Edna, can you get more flowers?
I'll throw away these dead ones and put fresh
flowers in these arrangements."
I mumbled, "Sure," as he be-bopped down the hall to
put on his cuff links.
Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the
dark wooden beams in the arched ceiling. "Lord," I
prayed, "please help me. I don't know anyone in
this town. Help me find someone willing to give me
flowers - in a hurry!" I scurried out praying for
four things: the blessing of white magnolias,
courage to find them in an unfamiliar yard, safety
from any dog that may bite my leg, and a nice person
who would not get out a shotgun when I asked to cut
his tree to shreds.
As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the
distance. I approached a house... No dog in sight.
I knocked on the door and an older man answered. So
far so good . . . No shotgun. When I stated my plea
the man beamed, "I'd be happy to!"
He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and
handed them down to me. Minutes later, as I lifted
the last armload into my car trunk, I said, "Sir,
you've made the mother of a bride happy today."
"No, Ma'am," he said. "You don't understand what's
happening here."
"What?" I asked.
"You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on
Monday. On Tuesday I received friends at the
funeral home, and on Wednesday . . . He paused. I
saw tears welling up in his eyes. "On Wednesday I
buried her." He looked away. "On Thursday most of
my out-of-town relatives went back home, and on
Friday - yesterday - my children left."
I nodded.
"This morning," he continued, "I was sitting in my
den crying out loud. I miss her so much. For the
last sixteen years, as her health got worse, she
needed me. But now nobody needs me. This morning I
cried, 'Who needs an eighty-six-year-old wore-out
man? Nobody!' I began to cry louder. 'Nobody needs
me!' About that time, you knocked, and said, "Sir,
I need you."
I stood with my mouth open.
He asked, "Are you an angel? The way the light shone
around your head into my dark living room..."
I assured him I was no angel.
He smiled. "Do you know what I was thinking when I
handed you those magnolias?"
"No."
"I decided I'm needed. My flowers are needed. Why,
I might have a flower ministry! I could give them
to everyone! Some caskets at the funeral home have
no flowers. People need flowers at times like that
and I have lots of them. They're all over the
backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches -
all sorts of places. You know what I'm going to do?
I'm going to serve the Lord until the day He calls
me home!"
I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On
Patsy's wedding day, if anyone had asked me to
encourage someone who was hurting, I would have
said, "Forget it! It's my only daughter's wedding,
for goodness' sake! There is no way I can minister
to anyone today."
But God found a way. Through dead flowers.
"Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the
way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes
the difference."
This should bring a smile to your face... Fifteen years ago my wife and I moved into a retirement development on Florida's Southeast coast. The last time we saw our grandkids was on Grandchildren's Day when they were dragged down by their parents. We were living in the Delray/Boca/Boynton, Golf, Spa, and Tennis Club on Lake Fake-a-hachee. There are 3,000 lakes in Florida, only 3 are real. It would be great if the kids came down to visit us this winter, as there is so much going on. Back by popular demand, the feisty, Hip Replacement Tappers Club will be tap dancing to the Flight of the Bumble Bee. It promises to be quite a production with lots of singing and dancing. This year I am not in the cast but will be standing by with the defibrillator volunteers. Our biggest retirement concern was time management. What were we going to do all day? Let me assure you, passing the time is not a problem. Your days will be eaten up by simple, daily activities. Just getting out of your car takes 15 minutes. Trying to find where you parked takes 20 minutes. It takes 1/2 hour on the check-out line in Wal-Mart and 1 hour to return the item the next day. Then, of course, there are the visits to the doctors' and dentists' offices. Let me take you through a typical day. We get up at 5:00 AM, have a quick breakfast and join the early morning Walk and Talk Club. There are about 30 of us and rain or shine we walk around the streets, all talking at once. Every development has some late risers who stay in bed until 6 AM. After a nimble walk avoiding irate drivers out to make us road kill, we go back home, shower and change for the next activity. My wife goes directly to the pool for her underwater Pilates class, followed by gasping for breath and CPR I put on my 'Ask me about my Grandchildren' T-shirt, my mid-calf shorts, my socks and sandals and go to the club house lobby for a nice nap. Before you know it, it's time for lunch. We go to Costco to partake of the many tasty samples dispensed by ladies in white hair nets. All free! After a filling lunch, if we don't have any doctor appointments, we might go to the flea market to see if any new white belts have come in or to buy a Rolex watch for $2. We're usually back home by 2 PM to get ready for dinner. People start lining up for the early bird about 3 PM, but we get there by 3:45 because we are late eaters. The dinners are very popular because of the large portions they serve. You can take home enough food for the next day's lunch and dinner, including extra bread, crackers, Sweet-and-Low packets and mints. At 5:30 we're home ready to watch the 6 o'clock news. By 6:30 we're fast asleep. Then we get up and make 5 or 6 trips to the bathroom during the night and it's time to get up and start a new day all over again. Doctor related activities will eat up most of your retirement time. I enjoy reading old magazines in subzero temperatures in the waiting room, so I don't mind. Calling for test results also help the days fly by. It takes at least half an hour just getting through the doctor's phone menu. Then there is the hold time until you are connected to the right party. Sometimes they forget you are holding, and the whole office goes to lunch. Many of the receptionists are quite rude. They keep you standing at that dopey little, closed glass window, totally ignoring you. After 1/2 an hour, I ignore the 'Do not tap on the window' sign and tap on the window. This always drives them nuts. If you do, they put down their Egg McMuffin or their copy of the Enquirer, and fling open the window, ready for a fight. I lie, explaining I tapped on the window accidentally because I have Parkinson's. They claim they are required to keep the window closed because of the privacy law but l don't believe it. Are they afraid if I were to overhear Sol Lipshitz has hemorrhoids, that I would blackmail him or sell the information to a foreign government? In Florida everyone has hemorrhoids! Should one find they still have time on their hands, volunteering provides a rewarding opportunity to help the less fortunate. Florida has the largest concentration of seniors under five feet and they need our help. I myself am a volunteer for 'The Vertically Challenged Over 80.' I coach their basketball team---'The Arthritic Avengers.' The hoop is only 4 1/2 feet from the floor. You should see the look of confidence on their faces when they make a slam dunk. Food shopping is a problem for short seniors or 'bottom feeders' as we call them because they can't reach the items on the upper shelves. There are many foods they have never tasted. Whenever I see one of them struggling to reach a jar of gefilte fish, I rush over to lend a hand. After shopping, most seniors can't remember where they parked their cars. They wander the parking lot for hours looking for their car while their food defrosts. Choosing a development with suitable amenities is an important decision. The various clubs in these communities provide most of the activities. Our development has over 300 clubs. There's something for everyone. Clubs like the kidney donating club, the Taliban Club, the East meets West club, not to be confused with the West meets East club, etc. A truly active community is one where the ambulance is there several times a day and is part of the Travel Club. Lastly, it's important to choose a development with an impressive name. Italian names are very popular in Florida. They convey world traveler, uppity sophistication and wealth. Where would you rather live... Murray 's Condo's or the Lakes Of Venice ? There is no difference. They are both owned by Murray who happens to be a cheap bastard! The Italian names appeal to those name-dropping, phony snow birds that are out to impress their friends up north. I once heard someone say 'we spend our summers in the Catskills, but we winter at Villa Borghese in Delray Beach'. I have been to Villa Borghese. There are 1,200 Jews and 2 Italians!! I hope this material has been of some help to you future retires. If I can be of any further assistance, please look me up when you're in Florida. I live in The Leaning Condos of Pisa in Boynton Beach .
Subject: Crabby Old Man
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North
Platte, Nebraska, it was believed that he had nothing left of any
Value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they
Found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that
Copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital
One nurse took her copy to Missouri. The old man's sole bequest to
Posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News
Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide
Presentation has also been made based o n his simple, but eloquent
Poem.
And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now
The author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet. Crabby Old Man What do you see nurses? . . . What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . . When you're looking at me?
A crabby old man . . . Not very wise, Uncertain of habit .. . . With faraway eyes? Who dribbles his food . . And makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . . The things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . A sock or shoe? Who, resisting or not . . . Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding the long day to fill
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . You're not looking at me. I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding . . . As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . . . With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . Who love one another. A young boy of Sixteen . .. With wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . A lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . My heart gives a leap
Remembering, the vows . . . That I promised to keep. At Twenty-Five, now . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . With ties that should last. At Forty, my young sons .. . Have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . To see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . My loved one and me. Dark days are upon me . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . Young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known. I'm now an old man . . And nature is cruel
Tis jest to make old age . .. Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . Grace and vigor depart.
There is now a stone . . . Where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass . . A young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . Life over again. I think of the years. All too few . Gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . Open and see.
Not a crabby old man. Look closer . . See . ME!! Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might
Brush aside without looking at the young soul within . We will all,
One day, be there, too! PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM.
The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or
Touched.
They must be felt by the heart.
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