Rosa Parks, the black seamstress, who in 1955 in Alabama inadvertently kicked the civil rights movement in America into action by refusing to give up her seat to a white man, has died at the age of 92. This remarkably brave woman was arrested and jailed for her determination and courage. I salute her. The civil rights movement had been smoldering in America under the guidance of Paul Robeson ever since 1932 when in London he told The Daily Express (and here I quote) “The modern white American is a member of the lowest form of civilization in the world today.” It could be argued by some that little has changed, and whilst I might want to endorse that theory I realize by doing so I could be alienating the friendships I have with many white Americans, but President Bush and his cronies do little to assist the argument against this theory. Robeson of course with his left wing affiliations went from public hero to public enemy. The American government even labeled him ‘the most dangerous man on the planet’, and whilst most black Americans looked up to him the movement was not ready to be lead by a feared and committed friend of the Soviet Union. By 1955 Robeson was already too old, too ill and too exhausted to have lead such a movement anyway. He dearly wanted to be involved of course but Martin Luther King was wisely reluctant to share a platform with him.
Early in the morning, just as the sun was rising
Adam started inventing things, and the results were surprising
Later in the morning the sun was getting higher
Adam made a discovery, he learnt to handle fire
He invented spears he invented guns, invented arrow and bow
Ah what is it now he’s going to invent? Sometimes I don’t want to know
Invented language, invented words, invented alphabets
But when it comes to communicating, sometimes he was deaf (sometimes he forgets)
Conquered desert, conquered ice, conquered ocean and shore
Conquered every animal beside himself, and Adam invented war
Adam brilliant Adam, so brilliant you’re made blind
Inventing some kind of new world, with no place for mankind
Well stamp your foot we’ve got one earth, one green apple
All around us one ocean of water, and just one ocean of air
Can we break the grip of this dance of death, can this world
Will Adam’s children the young inventors, will they now invent peace?
Well some will scoff and some will scorn, but what makes them
Adam’s children might surprise us all, and build a newer garden.
As the threat of Bird Flu hitting Britain in 2006 becomes more of a reality than a possibility, with some sections of the press predicting between fifty thousand and one million deaths in Britain alone, I ponder now on the probability of larger and more frequent disasters hitting planet Earth in the years to come. The prediction of one million deaths is typical of the British press who love to exaggerate in order to sell papers. There have only been sixty deaths in total from Bird Flu in the whole of Asia in the last two years; therefore one million is, by any stretch of the imagination, preposterous. Something somewhere along the line does not really add up. But there is no doubt that mankind is doing its level best to inadvertently destroy everything around it.
I have frequently commented how lucky I am to have been born in Britain in 1941. Having survived the Second World War I’ve been fortunate enough to have lived through relative peace with ever improving medical care that has kept me alive on two occasions (appendicitis and a pulmonary embolism) when 100 years ago I would have died. I’ve also had a new knee which means I can still walk, I’ve had an eye operation which means I can still see, I had my wisdom teeth extracted in hospital which means I can still eat, I’ve had a finger operation which means I can still stand behind my banjo and sing and I’ve had a new brain installed which means I can still communicate! OK the last one is a lie. If I’d had a new brain I would probably talk more sense, although that of course is not a guarantee; I might have talked even more nonsense than I do today.
But what future do our children have? Global warming brought about by deforestation, green house gasses and a host of other modern inventions is bringing catastrophe after catastrophe to our planet in a seemingly increasing quantity. And whilst earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanic eruptions have been a way of life since time began I have to question whether the underground explosion of atomic bombs has added to the equation. Whatever the argument or answer you cannot in anyway suggest it has helped. Nature has always found a way to put the planet back onto an even keel and the truth of the matter is quite simple. There are too many human beings wandering around and some serious culling has to be done. Mankind won’t do it itself. So nature will. It’s as simple as that. I’m 64 years young at present, which means I’ve probably got 20 years left tops if I’m lucky. Do I want to see 84? Well of course I do, and if I make it I will probably want to see 94 as well. But in what state will the planet be in 20 years if wars, hurricanes, earthquakes, sexually transmitted disease and tsunamis continue to multiply with the frequency they have in the last 100 years? For my limited brain it hurts to even try to think about it. But a lot of people reading this will still be alive in 2025, so it’s up to us to continually remind our leaders that they are taking us down the wrong path to eternity. Perhaps the people hiding out in the hills of Afghanistan, who drive planes into our buildings and bomb our underground trains know more than we do!
Five fingers has the hand, five fingers, five fingers
Five fingers has the hand, good for work and play
Started with a lizard’s claw, then became a mammal’s paw
Couldn’t be satisfied because, it isn’t the human way
Five fingers has the hand, five fingers, five fingers
Four fingers and a thumb, say it either way
Four and one add up to five, they’ve helped us all to stay alive
Helped the human race survive up to the present day
Five fingers and a brain, five fingers, five fingers
Five fingers and a brain, made a pact one day
The brain it said we’ll make a team, the best the world has ever seen
We’ll pool resources, work and scheme, let’s act without delay
Five fingers and a brain, five fingers, five fingers
Five fingers and a brain, set to work one day
Made a spear and made a bow, laid the mighty jungles low
Learned to hunt and make things grow and mould things out of clay
Five fingers and a brain, five fingers, five fingers
Five fingers and a brain, busy at work and play
Making music, carving bones, painting pictures, carving stones
Learning all that can be known, and growing every day
Five fingers and a brain, five fingers, five fingers
Five fingers and a brain, working night and day
Built the world and then got smart, opened up the atom’s heart
The fingers said it’s time to part and go our separate way
Five fingers and a brain, five fingers, five fingers
Five fingers and a brain, quarreling night and day
They’ve got the know-how and the skill, they can build, destroy and kill,
The choice is theirs for good or ill to find a human way
OK! What I’m trying to say, and what Pete Seeger sings about in the two previous songs, is that we’ve all got to come to our senses and we’ve got to do it pretty damn quickly and whilst terrorists are murdering swine they live an otherwise simple life that in no way contributes to undermining the future of the planet. It is us in the West who are doing that and we are pretty damn good at it. In certain parts of Britain today, even as I write, some people with sexually transmitted diseases are waiting up to 8 weeks to get an appointment at a clinic. For a mundane illness I have to wait 3 weeks to see my general practitioner. Eight weeks is a long time for a virulent adult to wait before going off to hide the sausage. Some of them are not bothering to wait.
From here on up the hills don’t get any higher,
But the valleys get deeper and deeper.
Perhaps death for me before 2025 will be a relief rather than something to dread. And, as I write this I find one of those highly suspicious pieces of somebody’s imagination lying in my mail box. It’s the sort of drivel you sometimes hear from a pulpit, or a soap box in Hyde Park. It’s obviously American, but if it’s being passed around from home to home, from reader to reader then I suppose it can only be doing good. So perhaps I shouldn’t knock it, in fact I’ll go further and pass it on.
The story goes like this ………
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.
After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question. "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. "I believe, that when a child like Shay comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child."
Then he told the following story:
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?"
Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging. Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play.
The boy looked around for guidance and, getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the outfield. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher took the ball and turned and threw the ball on a high arc to right field, far beyond the reach of the first baseman. Everyone started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" By the time Shay rounded first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases toward home.
Shay reached second base, the opposing shortstop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third!"
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams were screaming, "Shay, run home!"
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."
AND, NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY:
We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people think twice about sharing.
The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people on your address list that aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message.
Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the "natural order of things." So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:
Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up that opportunity, and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
You now have two choices:
1. Forget this.
2. Forward it to the people you care about.
You already know the choice I opted for. Friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.
I know, I know; it’s the sort of crap Americans in particular love. I can see Doris Day as the adoring mum jumping up and down in the stand with her hands clasped together under her chin, I can see Rock Hudson as the adoring father with tears streaming down his face; Liberace possibly as the umpire/referee. The story has so much sticky chocolate attached to it I’m almost embarrassed to forward it. But it’s saying exactly what I was saying on pages one and two; only it’s saying it in a different way, so if you feel the story is worth passing on – then please do.
In a few weeks it will be Christmas, the time for giving presents and I might have something some of you would like either to give or to receive. Finding the right kind of present for a loved one, something that it unusual if not unique, is not always the easiest of tasks. So apart from Kimber’s Men and Joe Stead CD’s (and they of course always make good presents) I have a couple of rare and unusual video tapes that I could copy either in DVD or VCR format which I would be happy to provide for any interested reader. They might not be of use to you if you live outside Europe as we have different systems. I would have to make a nominal charge of course to cover manufacturing costs and I suppose I might be breaking some kind of copyright law by doing so. However as both tapes are in excess of 20 years old and as they were both taken from an American cable television company that had a very limited catchment area then hopefully nobody will object. I’m sure none of the performers will mind, and let’s face it Woody Guthrie reckoned it was ok to steal and plagiarize – indeed he encouraged it. He once said, “Steal like what you like from me, I stole it from somebody else.”
1. I have a video of the 1981 Philadelphia Folk Festival with
commentary by my old pal Oscar Brand.
2. I have a video of Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie in concert together from the 1970’s.
Please drop me a line if you don’t mind helping me to break the law and would like a copy of either of these.
She would lie in bed at night listening to the thundering hooves of the Klu Klux Klan as they rode their horses past her house in their white robes. She could hear the lynching and in the morning she would probably have seen the bodies of black people hanging from the trees as she went to school. Rosa Parks, who died on Monday October 24th aged 92, refused to give up her seat to a white man in a bus in Montgomery Alabama on December 1st in 1955 thereby launching the Montgomery Bus Boycott which continued for 382 days thus thrusting Martin Luther King, her local Baptist minister, to the forefront of the Civil Rights Movement in America. She was 42 years old at the time. Rosa was arrested by the driver James Blake, who in those days had power of arrest, and was consequently jailed, although bailed later that evening. James Blake had probably already considered Rosa to be trouble maker. She had previously on another day been ejected from his bus for entering through the front door. (In those days black people paid the driver at the front and then got off the bus to re-enter it through the back door, providing of course that the driver did not simply drive away in the meantime). By the time the bus boycott finished many black people, including Rosa, had lost their jobs, been harassed by police, threatened by whites and in one instance, bombed. She left Montgomery Alabama with her husband in 1957 due to continual harassment and moved to Detroit where she eventually found a job as a receptionist and office manager for Congressman John Conyers Jnr. She was a dignified figurehead, and whilst probably fearful for her future a brave and heroic lady that I admire greatly. The world needs a few more Rosa Park’s.
I was just yesterday wondering what was missing from my mundane life when I realised that it had been some time since issue # 60 - how dare you go off and enjoy your summer leaving your avid readers with a large gap in their monthly dose of education!!
Anyway, welcome back - you have been missed.
As I may have mentioned previously we have lived on and off in the US for 10 years and our current business is based in South Carolina, which necessities several visits a year from sunny Norfolk - UK that is, not Virginia. I happened to be in our office just after "Katrina" and was therefore subjected to constant media coverage of the disaster - in more ways than one - in New Orleans and surrounding cities.
Overall a picture of complete incompetence from all levels of authority but what concerns me more than anything else is the lack of preparedness - is there such a word - and the lack of funding to take the necessary and obvious precautions. And why was that - partially due to the allocation of money and resources - regular servicemen and National Guard personnel - to the ill fated, ill conceived Iraq expedition. The Chris Cooper article says it all but when will the majority(?) of Americans wake up - probably not for some time or maybe never.
Your comments reminded me of an amusing league table that you may have seen before but can be found at:> http://chrisevans3d.com/files/iq.htm.
It gives a clue as to the IQ from State to State and to which State voted for whom….
State Avg. IQ 2004
1 Connecticut 113 Kerry
2 Massachusetts 111 Kerry
3 New Jersey 111 Kerry
4 New York 109 Kerry
5 Rhode Island 107 Kerry
6 Hawaii 106 Kerry
7 Maryland 105 Kerry
8 New Hampshire 105 Kerry
9 Illinois 104 Kerry
10 Delaware 103 Kerry
11 Minnesota 102 Kerry
12 Vermont 102 Kerry
13 Washington 102 Kerry
14 California 101 Kerry
15 Pennsylvania 101 Kerry
16 Maine 100 Kerry
17 Virginia 100 Bush
18 Wisconsin 100 Kerry
19 Colorado 99 Bush
20 Iowa 99 Bush
21 Michigan 99 Kerry
22 Nevada 99 Bush
23 Ohio 99 Bush
24 Oregon 99 Kerry
25 Alaska 98 Bush
26 Florida 98 Bush
27 Missouri 98 Bush
28 Kansas 96 Bush
29 Nebraska 95 Bush
30 Arizona 94 Bush
31 Indiana 94 Bush
32 Tennessee 94 Bush
33 North Carolina 93 Bush
34 West Virginia 93 Bush
35 Arkansas 92 Bush
36 Georgia 92 Bush
37 Kentucky 92 Bush
38 New Mexico 92 Bush
39 North Dakota 92 Bush
40 Texas 92 Bush
41 Alabama 90 Bush
42 Louisiana 90 Bush
43 Montana 90 Bush
44 Oklahoma 90 Bush
45 South Dakota 90 Bush
46 South Carolina 89 Bush
47 Wyoming 89 Bush
48 Idaho 87 Bush
49 Utah 87 Bush
50 Mississippi 85 Bush
On to more pleasant subjects - your reference to Priddy reminded
me of my first caving trip to Somerset - we camped at Priddy - in the company
of Dermot Poston, Dave Snashall, Martin Syms to mention a few. As an impressionable
14 year old getting horribly drunk on local scrumpy at the village pub is a
memory that will stick with me forever.
Keep up the good work and we do hope to make it up to Sowerby one of these days - leave you with one of the best one liners I have heard for a long time from Lol Weller on a recent sailing trip round the Inner Hebrides - took your CD's with me as seemed appropriate music to sail by - Lol, Pete Palethorpe and Steve Lee were suitably impressed. When discussing the need for waterproof clothing on a particularly wet, Scottish day, Lol's comment was - I was going to bring my camouflage trousers but I couldn't find them!! Made us laugh anyway, although it doesn't take much to amuse an Old Askean.
Dylan - neither sinner nor saint. His 'genius' is an ability to absorb, assimilate, integrate, explore, create, entertain. The rest of the stuff does not matter. Do we blame Woody Guthrie for his indiscretions?
Fishken. Boston Ma.
I often sing hop ‘Hop, hop, hop to the butcher’s shop’ when I am on my way home three sheets to the wind. One night some old crow stuck her head out of a car window and shouted who do you think you are Joe Stead?
Pearl and I wish you well,
Ben + Pearl Read, Romsey, Hampshire.
Has I read your ramblings of two days ago, I was hearing the news of an 82 year old being evicted from the Labour conference because he dared to use the word rubbish in the hearing of Jack Straw. Iraq Tony Blair could lie about, but not this one. I was pleased to see him eating shit the next morning in all the national press. Apparently he wasn't there, so it don't count. Sounds a bit like I didn't inhale so it don't count. Wasn't Bill Clinton a great spin merchant? If he was folk singer he would be called Fred Wedlock, Noel Murphy or even Joe Stead, none of which were ashamed of their bullshit!! That’s how you got liked instead of being despised.
Some evil bastard as thought up the most inhumane interrogation method ever, tie the suspect to a chair and play him some old Joe Stead recordings
Big Tim Justice
Dear Mum & Dad,
I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell them to get in bloody quick smart before the jobs are all gone!
I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!!
Blokes haz gotta shave though, but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing! At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon, and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!!
This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's bum and it don't move and its not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target - its a piece of piss!!
You don't even load your own cartridges - they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload!
Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster. Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pickhandles across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.
I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how bloody good it is.
Your loving daughter,
(Perhaps those who turn straight to the ‘Funnies’ and read nothing else should also read the last letter).
A bus stops and 2 Italian men get on. They sit down and engage in an animated conversation. The lady sitting next to them ignores them at first, but her attention is galvanized when she hears one of them say the following:
”Emma come first.”
”Den I come.”
”Den two asses come together.”
”I come once-a-more.”
”Two asses, they come together again.”
”I come again and pee twice.”
”Then I come one lasta time.”
”You foul-mouthed sex obsessed swine,” retorted the lady indignantly. “In this country we don’t speak aloud in public places about our sex lives.
“Hey, coola down lady,” said the man. “Who talkin’ I sex? I’m a justa tellin’ my frienda how to spell “Mississippi’.”
Here are some error messages seen on computer screens in Japan, written in Haiku. I’m never sure when I receive this kind of stuff whether the content is true or simply the content of somebody’s vivid imagination, especially when it involves a completely different culture. But one thing I do know about the Japanese is when they have an orgasm, they don’t come like us westerners – they go! But I have to admit these are better than "Your computer has performed an illegal operation"?
1. The Web site you seek cannot be located, but countless more exist.
2. Chaos reigns within. Reflect, repent, and reboot. Order shall return.
3. Program aborting: Close all that you have worked on. You ask for too much.
4. Windows NT crashed. I am the Blue Screen of Death. No one hears your screams.
5. Yesterday it worked. Today it is not working. Windows is like that.
6. Your file was so big. It might be very useful. But now it is gone.
7. Stay the patient course. Of little worth is your ire. The network is down.
8. A crash reduces your expensive computer to a simple stone.
9. Three things are certain: Death, taxes and lost data. Guess which has occurred?
10. You step in the stream, but the water has moved on. This page is not here.
11. Out of memory. We wish to hold the whole sky, but we never will.
12. Having been erased, the document you're seeking must now be retyped.
13. Serious error. All shortcuts have disappeared. Screen. Mind. Both are blank.
Learn Chinese in 5 Minutes
(Must Read Out Loud)
That’s not right Sum Ting Wong
Are you harbouring a fugitive Hu Yu Hai Ding
See me ASAP Kum Hia
Stupid Man Dum Fuk
Small Horse Tai Ni Po Ni
Did you go to the beach Wai Yu So Tan
I bumped the coffee table……………………………………...……Ai Bang Mai Kin Ni
I think you need a face lift Chin Tu Fat
It’s very dark in here Wai So Dim
I thought you were on a diet Wai Yu Mun Ching
This is a tow away zone No Pah King
Our meeting is scheduled for next week Wai Yu Kum Nao
Staying out of sight Lei Ying Lo
He’s cleaning his automobile Wa Shing Ka
Your body odor is offensive Yu Stin Ki Pu
Wonderful Fa Kin Su Pah
I shall seek and find you,
I shall take you to bed and have my way with you,
I will make you ache and shake until you moan and groan
I will make you beg for mercy .. beg me to stop
I will exhaust you to the point you will be relieved when I’m finished with you
And you will be weak for days
All my love
One night, George W. Bush is tossing restlessly in his White House bed. He awakens to see George Washington standing by him. Bush asks him, "George, what's the best thing I can do to help the country?" "Set an honest and honorable example, just as I did," Washington advises, and then fades away.
The next night, Bush is astir again, and sees the ghost of Thomas Jefferson moving through the darkened bedroom. Bush calls out, "Tom, please! What is the best thing I can do to help the country?" "Respect the Constitution, as I did," Jefferson advises, and dims from sight.
The third night sleep is still not in the cards for Bush. He awakens to see the ghost of FDR hovering over his bed. Bush whispers, "Franklin, what is the best thing I can do to help the country?" "Help the less fortunate, just as I did," FDR replies and fades into the mist.
Bush isn't sleeping well the fourth night when he sees another figure moving in the shadows. It is the ghost of Abraham Lincoln. Bush pleads, "Abe, what is the best thing I can do right now to help the country?" Lincoln replies, "Go see a play."
A man on his way home from work in Washington, D.C., came to a dead halt in traffic and thought to himself, "Wow, this seems worse than usual."
He noticed a police officer walking between the lines of stopped cars, so he rolled down his window and asked, "Officer, what's the hold-up?"
The officer replied, "The President is depressed, so he stopped his motorcade and is threatening to douse himself with gasoline and set himself on fire. He says no one believes his stories about why we went to war in Iraq, or the connection between Saddam and al-Qaeda, or that his tax cuts will help anyone except his wealthy friends. So we're
taking up a collection for him."
The man asks, "How much have you got so far?"
The officer replies, "About 14 gallons, but a lot of folks are still siphoning."
1. I feel like my body has gotten totally out of shape, so I got my doctor's permission to join a fitness club and start exercising. I decided to take an aerobics class for seniors. I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour. But, by the time I got my leotards on, the class was over.
2. Reporters interviewing a 104-year-old woman: "And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?" the reporter asked. She simply replied, "No peer pressure."
3. The nice thing about being senile is you can hide your own Easter eggs.
4. Just before the funeral services, the undertaker came up to the very elderly widow and asked, "How old was your husband?" "98," she replied. "Two years older than me." "So you're 96," the undertaker commented. She responded, "Hardly worth going home, is it?
5. I've sure gotten old! I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees. Fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I'm half blind, can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 4 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation; hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can't remember if I'm 85 or 92. Have lost all my friends. But, thank God, I still have my driver's license.
6. An elderly woman decided to prepare her will and told her preacher she had two final requests. First, she wanted to be cremated, and second, she wanted her ashes scattered over Wal-Mart. "Wal-Mart?" the preacher exclaimed. "Why Wal-Mart?" "Then I'll be sure my daughters visit me twice a week."
Bob, a 70-year-old, extremely wealthy widower, shows up at the Country Club with a breath-takingly beautiful and very sexy 25 year-old blonde who knocks everyone's socks off with her youthful sex appeal and charm. She hangs over Bob's arm and listens intently to his every word.
His buddies at the club are all aghast? At the very first chance, they corner him and ask, "Bob, how'd you get the trophy girlfriend
Bob replies, "Girlfriend? She's my wife!"
They're knocked over, but continue to ask. "So, how'd you persuade her to marry you?" "What, did you tell her you were only 50?"
Bob smiles and says, "No, I told her I was 90."
A woman was sitting at a bar enjoying an after work cocktail with her girlfriends when an exceptionally tall, handsome, extremely sexy middle-aged man entered. He was so striking that the woman could not take her eyes off him. The young man noticed her overly attentive stare and walked directly toward her. (As a lot of men will.)
Before she could offer her apologies for so rudely staring, he leaned over and whispered to her, "I'll do anything, absolutely anything, that you want me to do, no matter how kinky, for $20.00......on one condition."
Flabbergasted, the woman asked what the condition was. The man replied, "You have to tell me what you want me to do in just three words."
The woman considered his proposition for a moment, and then slowly removed a $20 bill from her purse, which she pressed into the man's hand along with her address. She looked deeply into his eyes, and slowly and meaningfully said.... "Clean my house."
Keep smiling, keep singing