My Son... Thanks Bob Looney

This is good for any eve of any new day, but especially for our next year on New Years Eve, 2011! Thanks Bob Looney!



Subject: My Son!


This is great. Take a moment to read it; it will make your day!

The ending will surprise you.

Take my Son.....

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, fromPicasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art..


When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.



About a month later, just before Christmas,




There was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands..




He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly... He often talked about you, and your love for art.' The young man held out this package. 'I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.'


The father


Opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.. 'Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift.'



The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.


The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.




On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?'


There was silence...


Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.'




But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?'


Another voice angrily. 'We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandts. Get on with the Real bids!'



But still the auctioneer continued. 'The son! The son! Who'll take the son?'


Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the painting...' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.




'We have $10, who will bid $20?'




'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.'




The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son.





They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.





The auctioneer pounded the gavel.. 'Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!'




A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Now let's get on with the collection!'


The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction is over.'




'What about the paintings?'




'I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will... I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.




The man who took the son gets everything!'





God gave His son over 2,000 years ago to die on the Cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: 'The Son, the Son, who'll take the Son?'





Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything!




FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE...THAT'S LOVE




Please send this to ten people and back to the one who sent it to you.


God Bless.


If I don't get this back, I will know you really didn't read it. I got this from someone and thought the last part was really a good thought..


Too bad that the person who sent it to me did not know 10 people who would admit to knowing the Lord .

=

Cardiologist's funeral

Thanks for another, Tom & Carolyn!


Subject: FW: Cardiologist's Funeral




A very prestigious cardiologist died, and was given a very elaborate
funeral by the hospital he worked for most of his life.... A huge
heart... covered in flowers stood behind the casket during the service
as all the doctors from the hospital sat in awe.
Following the eulogy, the heart opened, and the casket was rolled
inside. The heart then closed, sealing the doctor in the beautiful
heart forever.

At that point, one of the mourners burst into laughter.

When all eyes stared at him, he said, 'I am so sorry, I was just
thinking of my own funeral... I'm a gynecologist.'


The proctologist fainted.

A Christmas story You'll love to share

Thanks Tom and carolyn (Rowson) Lynch! A wonderful Christmas history lesson! God bless Montgomery Ward!

To:Subject: FW: A Christmas Story You'll love to Share









A man named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night. His 4-year-old daughter Barbara sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bobs wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer.
Little Barbara couldn't understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad's eyes and asked, “Why isn't Mommy just like everybody else's Mommy?” Bob's jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears.
Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob's life. Life always had to be different for Bob.
Small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys. He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he'd rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived. Evelyn's bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in he Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938.
Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn't even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn't buy a gift, he was determined a make one – a storybook! Bob had created a character in his own mind and told the animal's story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling. Who was the character? What was the story all about? The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character? A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose. Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn't end there.
The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print “ Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores. By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph. That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book.
In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter. But the story doesn't end there either.
Bob's brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore , it was recorded by the “singing cowboy”, Gene Autry. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of “White Christmas.”
The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning back to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn't so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing.
Happy Christmas and a Wonderful New Year!

Costa Rica from Old Trojan football warrior Jack Plymale

Jack Plymale regarding his home in Costa Rica

December 30, 2010
Sam, almost all of my friends in Portsmouth have died or moved elsewhere. You are perfectly welcome to use anything I might say. No offended people will come here to take me to task, or if they do I am familiar with the territory. Happy New Year to You and your New Boston lady. Jack P.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: skegley@columbus.rr.com
Subject: Re: Costa Rica
Date: Thu, 30 Dec 2010 20:56:22 -0500


What of this may I share on my blog, Jack? I think Portsmouth people love your messages.

Sam

From: Jack Plymale
To: Sam Kegley
Sent: Thursday, December 30, 2010 18:53
Subject: RE: Costa Rica


Sam, I have no plans at all to sell out and return on a permanent basis, The practicalities of the 84th birthday in the year that begins next saturday could at any time determine a change in plans but it would not be by choice. I am quite content up here and would never leave permanently unless I had no alternative. Sam, while I occasionally do relieve my kidneys from an obscure back porch. I do have indoor plumbing. Jack P.

Subject: Re: Costa Rica
Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2010 05:07:39 -0500
Sam, I've been out in the yard pinching buds off my Colias/Coleas. I could have used your help and you would have enjoyed it. It's 76 degrees right now. I didn't want Santa Claus to feel like he had to stop and do the job. Jack P

Jack P.



December 26, 2010
Thanks Jack!

Please forgive my nosiness. I gather that you are selling out in CR and moving back to FL for good. Is that so?

Do I also assume that the 400 square foot hut is without indoor plumbing? What must you do on those cold (70 degree nights) when nature calls? I am sharing this with Sarah DuPuy Rapp but no other until you ok an entry into my blog.
Sam
From: Jack Plymale
To: Sam Kegley
Sent: Sunday, December 26, 2010 22:00
Subject: Costa Rica


Sam, I came here, the first time, 30 to 35 years ago to help a group of friends appraise some real estate they had bought. I had no real guidelines for an appraisal, and the normal standards used weren't even applicable. I immediately loved the place but that was personal whimsey and I couldn't even kick a cat on that basis. Later some other friends in the citrus business had joined to plant some Macadamia grove here and was having some problems with their overseer( North american from Florida). He was giving it to them pretty good. Anyway about this time I decided to retire and Costa Rica seemed a better place than most to do it. I have never been able to move here completely because of a service connected disability that requires me to return to Fla. and the VA hospital every three to six months. I built me a little hermits hut(20' x 20') on the side of a peaceful mountain in a more peaceful settlement called Alegria( happiness) and here, I presently, find myself. With ,no misadventure I'll be here until the 28th of Feb, at which time I'll retun to Ft. Pierce and the VA hospital in W. Palm Beach for a blood letting on 3-1-11, Then an examination on 3-7-11. From there the only entity who knows doesn't talk to me. He treats me far,far better than I deserve,and I thank him regularly for his good grace, but he doesn't talk to me.If you've got any specific questions about Costa Rica and my life style. Just ask.When I leave here I sell my computer to some student for about 200 dollars cheaper than they pay here. Have actually been losing the sales tax. I have bought four new computers this year.I hope I'll run out of customers with this one.

Health? tips from Clay Vice

Thanks Mr. Vice!




Ten Thoughts to Ponder

Number 10 Life is sexually transmitted.

Number 9 Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.

Number 8 Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich .

Number 7 Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day. Teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks.

Number 6 Some people are like a Slinky-not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you shove them down the stairs.

Number 5 Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals, dying of nothing.

Number 4 All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.

Number 3 Why does a slight tax increase cost you $800.00, and a substantial tax cut saves you $30.00?

Number 2 In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.

And The Number 1 Thought Life is like a jar of Jalapeno peppers--what you do today, might burn your ass tomorrow.

- - - and as someone recently said to me: "Don't worry about old age--it doesn't last long."

Last request- Thanks Ralph Hovermale!

Thanks Dr. Hovermale!

A Last Request ...

In Washington an old priest lay dying in the hospital. For years he had faithfully served the people
of the nation's capital. He motioned for his Nurse to come near. "Yes, Father?" said the nurse.
"I would really like to see Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi before I die", whispered the priest.
"I'll see what I can do, Father", replied the nurse. The nurse sent the request to The House
and Senate waited for a response.

Soon the word arrived; Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi would be delighted to visit the priest.
As they went to the hospital, Reid commented to Pelosi, "I don't know why the old priest wants
to see us, but it will certainly help our images and might even get me re-elected."
Pelosi agreed that it was a good thing.

When they arrived at the priest's room, the priest took Reid's hand in his right hand and Pelosi's
hand in his left. There was silence and a look of serenity on the old priest's face. Finally Nancy Pelosi
spoke. "Father, of all the people you could have chosen, why did you choose us to be with you
as you near the end?"

The old priest slowly replied, "I have always tried to pattern my life After Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."
"Amen", said Reid.
"Amen", said Pelosi.
The old priest continued, "Jesus died between two lying thieves; I would like to do the same."

?? Learned in 2,065 years? Thanks Les!

Thanks Les Bond!

So, what have we learned in 2,065 years ?

"The budget should be balanced, the Treasury should be refilled, public debt should be reduced,
the arrogance of officialdom should be tempered and controlled, and the assistance to foreign
lands should be curtailed lest Rome become bankrupt.
People must again learn to work, instead of living on public assistance." -

-- Cicero, 55 BC

Evidently, nothing.

do not tell a lie


I thought you might get a laugh from this. I read it to my Sunday school class when we talked about what bearing false witness meant. :+)

Our teacher asked us what our favorite animal was, and I said, "Fried
chicken." She said I wasn't funny, but she couldn't have been
right because everyone else in the class laughed.

My parents told me to always be truthful and honest, and I am.
Fried chicken is my favorite animal. I told my dad what happened, and
he said my teacher was probably a member of PETA. He said they
love animals very much. I do, too. Especially chicken, pork and beef.

Anyway, my teacher sent me to the principal's office. I told him
what happened, and he laughed too. Then he told me not to do it again.

The next day in class my teacher asked me what my favorite live
animal was. I told her it was chicken. She asked me why, just like she'd
asked the other children. So I told her it was because you could
make them into fried chicken. She sent me back to the principal's
office again. He laughed, and told me not to do it any more.

I don't understand. My parents taught me to be honest, but my
teacher doesn't like it when I am. Today, my teacher asked us to tell her
what famous person we admire most.

I told her, "Colonel Sanders".

Guess where I am now.......

How can you defend Israel? Thanks Mimi Brodsky Chenfeld

dear ones- beautifully articulated= share...love, mim (from pearl)

-----Original Message-----
From: Subject: Fwd: FW: New David Harris Blog: “How can you defend Israel?”



“How can you defend Israel?”
David Harris, AJC Executive Director
December 27, 2010
I was sitting in a lecture hall at a British university. Bored by the speaker, I began glancing around the hall. I noticed someone who looked quite familiar from an earlier academic incarnation. When the session ended, I introduced myself and wondered if, after years that could be counted in decades, he remembered me.

He said he did, at which point I commented that the years had been good to him. His response: “But you’ve changed a lot.”

“How so?” I asked with a degree of trepidation, knowing that, self-deception aside, being 60 isn’t quite the same as 30.

Looking me straight in the eye, he proclaimed, as others standing nearby listened in, “I read the things you write about Israel. I hate them. How can you defend that country? What happened to the good liberal boy I knew 30 years ago?”

I replied: “That good liberal boy hasn’t changed his view. Israel is a liberal cause, and I am proud to speak up for it.”

Yes, I’m proud to speak up for Israel. A recent trip once again reminded me why.

Sometimes, it’s the seemingly small things, the things that many may not even notice, or just take for granted, or perhaps deliberately ignore, lest it spoil their airtight thinking.

It’s the driving lesson in Jerusalem, with the student behind the wheel a devout Muslim woman, and the teacher an Israeli with a skullcap. To judge from media reports about endless inter-communal conflict, such a scene should be impossible. Yet, it was so mundane that no one, it seemed, other than me gave it a passing glance. It goes without saying that the same woman would not have had the luxury of driving lessons, much less with an Orthodox Jewish teacher, had she been living in Saudi Arabia.

It’s the two gay men walking hand-in-hand along the Tel Aviv beachfront. No one looked at them, and no one questioned their right to display their affection. Try repeating the same scene in some neighboring countries.

It’s the Friday crowd at a mosque in Jaffa. Muslims are free to enter as they please, to pray, to affirm their faith. The scene is repeated throughout Israel. Meanwhile, Christians in Iraq are targeted for death; Copts in Egypt face daily marginalization; Saudi Arabia bans any public display of Christianity; and Jews have been largely driven out of the Arab Middle East.

It’s the central bus station in Tel Aviv. There’s a free health clinic set up for the thousands of Africans who have entered Israel, some legally, others illegally. They are from Sudan, Eritrea, and elsewhere. They are Christians, Muslims, and animists. Clearly, they know something that Israel’s detractors, who rant and rave about alleged “racism,” don’t. They know that, if they’re lucky, they can make a new start in Israel. That’s why they bypass Arab countries along the way, fearing imprisonment or persecution. And while tiny Israel wonders how many such refugees it can absorb, Israeli medical professionals volunteer their time in the clinic.

It’s Save a Child’s Heart, another Israeli institution that doesn’t make it into the international media all that much, although it deserves a nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize. Here, children in need of advanced cardiac care come, often below the radar. They arrive from Iraq, the West Bank, Gaza, and other Arab places. They receive world-class treatment. It’s free, offered by doctors and nurses who wish to assert their commitment to coexistence. Yet, these very same individuals know that, in many cases, their work will go unacknowledged. The families are fearful of admitting they sought help in Israel, even as, thanks to Israelis, their children have been given a new lease on life.

It’s the vibrancy of the Israeli debate on just about everything, including, centrally, the ongoing conflict with the Palestinians. The story goes that U.S. President Harry Truman met Israeli President Chaim Weizmann shortly after Israel’s establishment in 1948. They got into a discussion about who had the tougher job. Truman said: “With respect, I’m president of 140 million people.” Weizmann retorted: “True, but I’m president of one million presidents.”

Whether it’s the political parties, the Knesset, the media, civil society, or the street, Israelis are assertive, self-critical, and reflective of a wide range of viewpoints.

It’s the Israelis who are now planning the restoration of the Carmel Forest, after a deadly fire killed 44 people and destroyed 8,000 acres of exquisite nature. Israelis took an arid and barren land and, despite the unimaginably harsh conditions, lovingly planted one tree after another, so that Israel can justifiably claim today that it’s one of the few countries with more wooded land than it had a century ago.

It’s the Israelis who, with quiet resolve and courage, are determined to defend their small sliver of land against every conceivable threat – the growing Hamas arsenal in Gaza; the dangerous build-up of missiles by Hezbollah in Lebanon; nuclear-aspiring Iran’s calls for a world without Israel; Syria’s hospitality to Hamas leaders and transshipment of weapons to Hezbollah; and enemies that shamelessly use civilians as human shields. Or the global campaign to challenge Israel’s very legitimacy and right to self-defense; the bizarre anti-Zionist coalition between the radical left and Islamic extremists; the automatic numerical majority at the UN ready to endorse, at a moment’s notice, even the most far-fetched accusations against Israel; and those in the punditocracy unable – or unwilling – to grasp the immense strategic challenges facing Israel.

Yes, it’s those Israelis who, after burying 21 young people murdered by terrorists at a Tel Aviv discotheque, don the uniform of the Israeli armed forces to defend their country, and proclaim, in the next breath, that, “They won’t stop us from dancing, either.”

That’s the country I’m proud to stand up for. No, I’d never say Israel is perfect. It has its flaws and foibles. It’s made its share of mistakes. But, then again, so has every democratic, liberal and peace-seeking country I know, though few of them have faced existential challenges every day since their birth.

The perfect is the enemy of the good, it’s said. Israel is a good country. And seeing it up close, rather than through the filter of the BBC or the Guardian, never fails to remind me why.

Feb. 2, 2011 Thanks alma Holl!

Feb. 2, 2011- Thanks Alma Nash Holl!



This next year, Feb 2, 2011, both Groundhog Day and the State of the Union address occur on the same day.


"It is an ironic juxtaposition of events; one involves a meaningless
ritual in which we look to a creature of little intelligence for prognostication while the other involves a groundhog."

Omuspres- Thanks Ramey!

Posts like this which hint at truths must be eliminated by the FCC, which should be eliminated itself. Are lies true exp1anations? I think not.

Another piece falls into place...

In a press conference last week Obama was not wearing his wedding ring nor was he wearing his watch. When noticed, his staff said his ring was out for repairs. No reason was given for the missing watch. So it's just a coincidence that Muslims are forbidden from wearing jewelry during the month of Ramadan??? (THINK about that one, you people who still like this idiot!!) Can't possibly be that, because although he hasn't gone to a Christian church service but very few times since entering the White House, We know he's a committed Christian 'cause he said so during the campaign. And I've got a bridge to sell you also

This email was cleaned by emailStripper, available for free from http://www.papercut.biz/emailStripper.htm

Humanist, not rascist. Waco TX post- Thanks Terry Krause!

Add texans to Arizonans and Missourians for making some sense out of actions by our senseless elite politicians on both sides of the aisle. Bring in cheap help and let the proletariat (American Taxpayers) pay all of their benefits.

This fellow gets my vote!!



I would put him in charge in a heart beat!!! rl

Me too!

We have been so victimized by our own sanctimonious do-gooders aided and abetted by the politicians who are so profligate with other peoples money that we have lost all common sense. The following, although inconsistent with reality, is the type of common sense that we need so badly.



This was in the Waco Tribune Herald, Waco , TX 18 Nov 2010
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Put me in charge ...

Put me in charge of food stamps. I’d get rid of Lone Star cards; no cash for Ding Dongs or Ho Ho’s, just money for 50-pound bags of rice and beans, blocks of cheese and all the powdered milk you can haul away. If you want steak and frozen pizza, then get a job.

Put me in charge of Medicaid. The first thing I’d do is to get women Norplant birth control implants or tubal ligations. Then, we’ll test recipients for drugs, alcohol, and nicotine and document all tattoos and piercings. If you want to reproduce or use drugs, alcohol, smoke or get tats and piercings, then get a job.

Put me in charge of government housing. Ever live in a military barracks? You will maintain our property in a clean and good state of repair. Your “home” will be subject to inspections anytime and possessions will be inventoried. If you want a plasma TV or Xbox 360, then get a job and your own place.

In addition, you will either present a check stub from a job each week or you will report to a “government” job. It may be cleaning the roadways of trash, painting and repairing public housing, whatever we find for you. We will sell your 22 inch rims and low profile tires and your blasting stereo and speakers and put that money toward the “common good.”

Before you write that I’ve violated someone’s rights, realize that all of the above is voluntary. If you want our money, accept our rules.. Before you say that this would be “demeaning” and ruin their “self esteem,” consider that it wasn’t that long ago that taking someone else’s money for doing absolutely nothing was demeaning and lowered self esteem.

If we are expected to pay for other people’s mistakes we should at least attempt to make them learn from their bad choices. The current system rewards them for continuing to make bad choices.

Alfred W. Evans, Gatesville

Burma Shave Sighns- Thanks Sarah Rapp!

For those who never saw any of the Burma Shave signs, here is a quick lesson in our history of the 1930's, 40s and '50's. Before there were interstates, when everyone drove the old 2 lane roads, Burma Shave signs would be posted all over the countryside in farmers' fields. They were small red signs with white letters. Five signs, about 100 feet apart, each containing 1 line of a 4 line couplet......and the obligatory 5th sign advertising Burma Shave, a popular shaving cream. Here are more of the actual signs:


DON'T STICK YOUR ELBOW
OUT SO FAR
IT MAY GO HOME
IN ANOTHER CAR.
BURMA SHAVE

TRAINS DON'T WANDER
ALL OVER THE MAP
'CAUSE NOBODY SITS
IN THE ENGINEER'S LAP
BURMA SHAVE

SHE KISSED THE HAIRBRUSH
BY MISTAKE
SHE THOUGHT IT WAS
HER HUSBAND JAKE
BURMA SHAVE

DON'T LOSE YOUR HEAD
TO GAIN A MINUTE
YOU NEED YOUR HEAD
YOUR BRAINS ARE IN IT
BURMA SHAVE

DROVE TOO LONG
DRIVER SNOOZING
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT
IS NOT AMUSING
BURMA SHAVE

BROTHER SPEEDER
LET'S REHEARSE
ALL TOGETHER
GOOD MORNING, NURSE
BURMA SHAVE

CAUTIOUS RIDER
TO HER RECKLESS DEAR
LET'S HAVE LESS BULL
AND A LITTLE MORE STEER
BURMA SHAVE

SPEED WAS HIGH
WEATHER WAS NOT
TIRES WERE THIN
X MARKS THE SPOT
BURMA SHAVE

THE MIDNIGHT RIDE
OF PAUL FOR BEER
LED TO A WARMER
HEMISPHERE
BURMA SHAVE

AROUND THE CURVE
LICKETY-SPLIT
BEAUTIFUL CAR
WASN'T IT?
BURMA SHAVE

NO MATTER THE PRICE
NO MATTER HOW NEW
THE BEST SAFETY DEVICE
IN THE CAR IS YOU
BURMA SHAVE

A GUY WHO DRIVES
A CAR WIDE OPEN
IS NOT THINKIN'
HE'S JUST HOPIN'
BURMA SHAVE

AT INTERSECTIONS
LOOK EACH WAY
A HARP SOUNDS NICE
BUT IT'S HARD TO PLAY
BURMA SHAVE

BOTH HANDS ON THE WHEEL
EYES ON THE ROAD
THAT'S THE SKILLFUL
DRIVER'S CODE
BURMA SHAVE

THE ONE WHO DRIVES
WHEN HE'S BEEN DRINKING
DEPENDS ON YOU
TO DO HIS THINKING
BURMA SHAVE

CAR IN DITCH
DRIVER IN TREE
THE MOON WAS FULL
AND SO WAS HE.
BURMA SHAVE

PASSING SCHOOL ZONE
TAKE IT SLOW
LET OUR LITTLE
SHAVERS GROW
BURMA SHAVE

Do these bring back any old memories?
If not, you're merely a child. If they do - then you're old as dirt... LIKE ME!

Best prayer in a long time- Thanks Carol and Clay Vice

Thanks Clay! Old grouches, like myself, need to stop and think and have Christian compassion on others sharing this world with us.

Sam





Best Prayer I Have Heard In A Long Time...

Heavenly Father, Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and is rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.

Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.

Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job!) is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares

Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together


Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not to just those who are close to us, but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judge and quick to forgive, show patience, empathy and love.

If you send this to 5 people, then you have a chance to touch 5 people.

Working for God on earth doesn't pay much......but His retirement plan is out of this world!

Internet taxes and control by o's FCC

Just another Lib tax, Judi! Spend! spend! Spend! Tax! Tax! Tax! o, Pelosi and Reid planned this lame duck congress well and the few republicans did nothing to stop them.

I have not one ounce of trust in their judgment except that it is to destroy America.

Sam


----- Original Message -----
From: judith Cole
Sent: Thursday, December 23, 2010 22:38
Subject: FCC and governance of the 'net



"Time and Usage Fees" are coming to your bill (TV, Internet, Cell phone, Land-line phone) in the near future, including a "broad-band" Fee. Your service provider will start loading these on you bill within the next 6 months or less.



Senator McConnell comments on FCC's net neutrality regulations.
www.youtube.com

AND, here's more:

Opinion: Internet Should Remain Free of Government Regulation
www.aolnews.com
If ever we needed an example of what can happen when innovation, entrepreneurship and a marketplace are left unfettered, it is the phenomenal and transformational growth of the Internet and the commerce it's engendered. Yet, in the face of this obvious correlation between freedom and prosperity, the
14 minutes ago · Share

A Very Large and asinine solution to a problem which exists only in the crippled neurotic and socialistic minds of the greedy, power hungry Obama administration and its democrat controlled FCC. There is NO rational reason for what the FCC did today with regard to "policing" the internet...HANDS OFF DIMWITS....

MilitaryPay and a sad USA administration

Thanks Sarah Rapp!

One more reason Obama and ALL his cronies should be deported.

This kid needs to get a big raise for his letter!!!! Let that old bag send her kid overseas for 13,000 a year and see what she thinks then! There's stupid and then there's REALLY STUPID!

Subject: Military Pay


If you get this more than once, feel honored that you know more than one person who supports our military and appreciates what they do.
If you don't forward it, you don't deserve their sacrifice.

CINDY WILLIAMS was appointed by Obama as an Assistant Director for NATIONAL SECURITY in the Congressional Budget Office.....

Military Pay

This is an Airman's response to Cindy Williams' editorial piece in the Washington Times about MILITARY PAY, it should be printed in all newspapers across America .

Ms. Cindy William wrote a piece for the Washington Times denouncing the pay raise(s) coming service members' way this year citing that she stated a 13% wage increase was more than they deserve.

A young airman from Hill AFB responds to her article below. He ought to get a bonus for this.

"Ms Williams:
I just had the pleasure of reading your column, "Our GI's earn enough" and I am a bit confused. Frankly, I'm wondering where this vaunted overpayment is going, because as far as I can tell, it disappears every month between DFAS (The Defense Finance and Accounting Service) and my bank account. Checking my latest earnings statement I see that I make $1,117.80 before taxes per month. After taxes, I take home $874.20. When I run that through the calculator, I come up with an annual salary of $13,413.60 before taxes, and $10,490.40 after.

I work in the Air Force Network Control Center where I am part of the team responsible for a 5,000 host computer network. I am involved with infrastructure segments, specifically with Cisco Systems equipment. A quick check under jobs for "Network Technicians" in the Washington , D.C. Area reveals a position in my career field, requiring three years’ experience in my job. Amazingly, this job does NOT pay $13,413.60 a year. No, this job is being offered at $70,000 to $80,000 per annum............ I'm sure you can draw the obvious conclusions.

Given the tenor of your column, I would assume that you NEVER had the pleasure of serving your country in her armed forces.
Before you take it upon yourself to once more castigate congressional and DOD leadership for attempting to get the families in the military's lowest pay brackets off of WIC and food stamps, I suggest that you join a group of deploying soldiers headed for AFGHANISTAN ; I leave the choice of service branch up to you. Whatever choice you make though, opt for the SIX month rotation: it will guarantee you the longest possible time away from your family and friends, thus giving you full "deployment experience."

As your group prepares to board the plane, make sure to note the spouses and children who are saying good-bye to their loved ones. Also take care to note that several families are still unsure of how they'll be able to make ends meet while the primary breadwinner is gone. Obviously they've been squandering the "vast" piles of cash the government has been giving them.

Try to deploy over a major holiday; Christmas and Thanksgiving are perennial favorites. And when you're actually over there, sitting in a foxhole, shivering against the cold desert night, and the flight sergeant tells you that there aren't enough people on shift to relieve you for chow, remember this: trade whatever MRE's (meal-ready-to-eat) you manage to get for the tuna noodle casserole or cheese tortellini, and add Tabasco to everything. This gives some flavor.

Talk to your loved ones as often as you are permitted; it won't be nearly long enough or often enough, but take what you can get and be thankful for it. You may have picked up on the fact that I disagree with most of the points you present in your open piece.

But, tomorrow from KABUL, I will defend to the death your right to say it.

You see, I am an American fighting man, a guarantor of your First Amendment right and every other right you cherish...On a daily basis, my brother and sister soldiers worldwide ensure that you and people like you can thumb your collective noses at us, all on a salary that is nothing short of pitiful and under conditions that would make most people cringe. We hemorrhage our best and brightest into the private sector because we can't offer the stability and pay of civilian companies.

And you, Ms. Williams, have the gall to say that we make more than we deserve?

A1C Michael Bragg, Hill AFB AFNCC


IF YOU AGREE, PLEASE PASS THIS ALONG TO AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE AND SHOW YOUR SUPPORT OF THE AMERICAN FIGHTING MEN AND WOMEN.



THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year !!

HOLIDAY EATING TIPS
1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the holiday spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. It's rare... You cannot find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-alcoholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Holiday party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple, Pumpkin, Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Re-read tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner. Remember this motto to live by:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate and wine in one hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

Have a great holiday season!!

Coyote Thanks again, Terry!

Coyote

The Governor of California is jogging with his dog along a nature trail.

A coyote jumps out and attacks the Governor's dog, then bites the Governor.

1. The Governor starts to intervene, but reflects upon the movie "Bambi" and then realizes he should stop because the coyote is only doing what is natural.

2. He calls animal control . Animal Control captures the coyote and bills the State $200 testing it for diseases and $500 for relocating it.

3. He calls a veterinarian. The vet collects the dead dog and bills the State $200 testing it for diseases.

4. The Governor goes to hospital and spends $3,500 getting checked for diseases from the coyote and on getting his bite wound bandaged.

5. The running trail gets shut down for 6 months while Fish & Game conducts a $100,000 survey to make sure the area is now free of dangerous animals.

6. The Governor spends $50,000 in state funds implementing a "coyote awareness program" for residents of the area.

7. The State Legislature spends $2 million to study how to better treat rabies and how to permanently eradicate the disease throughout the world.

8. The Governor's security agent is fired for not stopping the attack. The State spends $150,000 to hire and train a new agent with additional special training re: the nature of coyotes.

9. PETA protests the coyote's relocation and files a $5 million suit against the State.


Montana :

The Governor of Montana is jogging with his dog along a nature trail. A Coyote jumps out and attacks his dog.

1. The Governor shoots the coyote with his State-issued pistol and keeps jogging. The Governor has spent $0.50 on a ..45 ACP hollow point cartridge.

2. The Buzzards eat the dead coyote.


And that, my friends, is why California is broke and Montana is not.

God still blesses the Jewish people

Thanks terry Krause!



This is true i checked it out on snopes

Terry










Army-Navy Game!


It started last Christmas, when Bennett and Vivian Levin were overwhelmed by sadness while listening to radio reports of injured American troops. "We have to let them know we care," Vivian told Bennett. So they organized a trip to bring soldiers from Walter Reed Army Medical Center and Bethesda Naval Hospital to the annual Army-Navy football game in Philly, on Dec. 3.

The cool part is, they created their own train line to do it. Yes, there are people in this country who actually own real trains. Bennett Levin - native Philly guy, self-made millionaire and irascible former L&I commish - is one of them.

He has three luxury rail cars. Think mahogany paneling, plush seating and white-linen dining areas. He also has two locomotives, which he stores at his Juniata Park train yard. One car, the elegant Pennsylvania , carried John F. Kennedy to the Army-Navy game in 1961 and '62. Later, it carried his brother Bobby's body to D. C. for burial. "That's a lot of history for one car," says Bennett.

He and Vivian wanted to revive a tradition that endured from 1936 to 1975, during which trains carried Army-Navy spectators from around the country directly to the stadium where the annual game is played. The Levins could think of no better passengers to reinstate the ceremonial ride than the wounded men and women recovering at Walter Reed in D. C. and Bethesda , in Maryland . "We wanted to give them a first-class experience," says Bennett. "Gourmet meals on board, private transportation from the train to the stadium, perfect seats - real hero treatment."

Through the Army War College Foundation, of which he is a trustee, Bennett met with Walter Reed's commanding general, who loved the idea. But Bennett had some ground rules first, all designed to keep the focus on the troops alone:

No press on the trip, lest the soldiers' day of pampering devolve into a media circus.

No politicians either, because, says Bennett, "I didn't want some idiot making this trip into a campaign photo op"

And no Pentagon suits on board, otherwise the soldiers would be too busy saluting superiors to relax.

The general agreed to the conditions, and Bennett realized he had a problem on his hands. "I had to actually make this thing happen," he laughs.

Over the next months, he recruited owners of 15 other sumptuous rail cars from around the country - these people tend to know each other - into lending their vehicles for the day. The name of their temporary train? The Liberty Limited.

Amtrak volunteered to transport the cars to D. C. - where they'd be coupled together for the round-trip ride to Philly - then back to their owners later.

Conrail offered to service the Liberty while it was in Philly. And SEPTA drivers would bus the disabled soldiers 200 yards from the train to Lincoln Financial Field, for the game.

A benefactor from the War College ponied up 100 seats to the game - on the 50-yard line - and lunch in a hospitality suite.

And corporate donors filled, for free and without asking for publicity, goodie bags for attendees:

From Woolrich, stadium blankets. From Wal-Mart, digital cameras. From Nikon, field glasses. From GEAR, down jackets.

There was booty not just for the soldiers, but for their guests, too, since each was allowed to bring a friend or family member.

The Marines, though, declined the offer. "They voted not to take guests with them, so they could take more Marines," says Levin, choking up at the memory.

Bennett's an emotional guy, so he was worried about how he'd react to meeting the 88 troops and guests at D. C.'s Union Station, where the trip originated. Some GIs were missing limbs. Others were wheelchair-bound or accompanied by medical personnel for the day. "They made it easy to be with them," he says. "They were all smiles on the ride to Philly. Not an ounce of self-pity from any of them. They're so full of life and determination."

At the stadium, the troops reveled in the game, recalls Bennett. Not even Army's lopsided loss to Navy could deflate the group's rollicking mood.

Afterward, it was back to the train and yet another gourmet meal - heroes get hungry, says Levin - before returning to Walter Reed and Bethesda . "The day was spectacular," says Levin. "It was all about these kids. It was awesome to be part of it."

The most poignant moment for the Levins was when 11 Marines hugged them goodbye, then sang them the Marine Hymn on the platform at Union Station.

"One of the guys was blind, but he said, 'I can't see you, but man, you must be beautiful!' " says Bennett. "I got a lump so big in my throat, I couldn't even answer him."

It's been three weeks, but the Levins and their guests are still feeling the day's love. "My Christmas came early," says Levin, who is Jewish and who loves the Christmas season. "I can't describe the feeling in the air." Maybe it was hope.

As one guest wrote in a thank-you note to Bennett and Vivian, "The fond memories generated last Saturday will sustain us all - whatever the future may bring."

God bless the Levins.

And bless the troops, every one.

Jack Plymale and Vic Janowicz in Columbus

I think the name of the bar on the east side of High Street just a little off campus was Ben's. Vic and I stopped in there one Saturday afternoon had beer or two and he said he had never played that bar shuffleboard before and it was apparent. I beat him about four times. Then the old pros in the bar wanted to play him for a beer. The rest of the evening we drank for free and left a table full of unopened beer. He got to where he could beat anybody who stepped up. There is just no way to handle those natural athletes. Sam I had told kieth about running into Vic one time in Ft. Pierce when the Pirate trained there. This is a follow-up. I thought you might be interested. Jack P
--
Jack P.

From tear jerker to a laugher- Thanks Tom & Carolyn!

Blonde's Year in Review






January
Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight.

February
Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels.....
Helllloooo!!!.......bottles won't fit in printer!!!

March
Got really excited.....finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months......
Box said '2-4 years!'

April
Trapped on escalator for hours ...
Power went out!!!

May
Tried to make Kool-Aid.......wrong instructions....
8 cups of water won't fit into those little packets!!!

June
Tried to go water skiing.......
Couldn't find a lake with a slope.

July
Lost breast stroke swimming competition.....
Learned later, the other swimmers cheated,

they used their arms!!!

August
Got locked out of my car in rain storm.....
Car swamped because soft-top was open.

September
The capital of California is 'C'.......isn't it???

October
Hate M & M's.....
They are so hard to peel.

November
Baked turkey for 4 1/2 days...
Instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108!!

December
Couldn't Call 911.
'Duh'...there's no 'eleven' button on the Stupid phone!!!


THE BEST BLONDE JOKE OF THE YEAR
A man was in his front yard mowing grass when his attractive blonde
female neighbor came out of the house and went straight to the
mailbox. She opened it then slammed it shut and stormed
back into the house.

A little later she came out of her house again went to the mail box and
again, opened it and slammed it shut again. Angrily, back into the house
she went.

As the man was getting ready to edge the lawn, here she came out again,
marched to the mail box, opened it and then slammed it closed harder than ever.


Puzzled by her actions the man asked her, 'Is something wrong?'


To which she replied, 'There certainly is!'
'My stupid computer keeps saying, 'YOU'VE GOT MAIL!'

Now, you made me cry Tom & Carolyn Lynch

"IN GOD WE TRUST"



This is special...please read.





Please read it to the end!! It's too good not to pass on-We all have so much to be thankful for!!!!!

Grab a tissue!

This one will bring a tear. But it sure makes you appreciate life.

Santa and Sarah

One year ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at the Mayfair Mall in
Wisconsin. The child climbed up on his lap, holding a picture of a little girl.

Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend? Your sister?'"

"Yes, Santa,' he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly.

Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her
eyes with a tissue. "She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!"
the child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly.

Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to theboy's face, asking him what he
wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas.

When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the child off his lap,
and started to say something to Santa, but halted.

"What is it?" Santa asked warmly.

"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but.." the old woman began, shooing
her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his
young visitors.

"The girl in the photograph... my granddaughter well, you see ... she has leukemia and
isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes.
"Is there any way, Santa, any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's
asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa."

Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves
as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the
rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that
hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "This is the least I can do."

When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his
helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location
manager how to get to Children's Hospital.

"Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.

Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day.

"C'mon.....I'll take you there." Rick said softly. Rick drove them to the hospital and came
inside with Santa.

They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall.

Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on
the bed.

The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the
girl's brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother
stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman
who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with a weary, sad look
on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of
the family, and their love and concern for Sarah.

Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a
hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!"

"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him, IV tubes
intact.

Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son
-- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her
short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw
when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force
himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear
the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room.

As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing
Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "Thank you" as they gazed sincerely at
him with shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the
toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year.

As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for
permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled
around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she
believed in angels.

"Oh, yes, Santa... I do!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you." he said. Laying one hand on the child's
head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her
body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when
he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing, softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night....
all is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying
tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all.

When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands
in his own. "Now, Sarah," he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate
on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to
see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!"

He knew it was risky proclaiming that to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he "had" to.
He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.

"Yes, Santa!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead
and left the room.

Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept
unashamed.

Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa's side to
thank him.

"My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do."
They nodded with understanding and hugged him.

One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal
job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit
on his lap.

"Hi, Santa! Remember me?!"

"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her. After all, the
secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the "only"
child in the world at that moment.

"You came to see me in the hospital last year!"

Santa's jaw dropped. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle
and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was
long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited
just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines
smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.

That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus.

He had witnessed --and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of
hope. This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up
to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, Merry Christmas!

If you believe in miracles you will pass this on...I did!
____________________________

Thanks Patricia Richards Whitehead! Funny!

Pretty funny—read carefully

We were dressed and ready to go out for the New Years Eve Party. We turned on a
night light, turned the answering machine on, covered our pet parakeet and put
the cat in the backyard. We phoned the local cab company and requested a taxi.
The taxi arrived and we opened the front door to leave the house. The cat we put
out in the back yard, scoots back into the front door. We didn't want the cat
shut in the house because she always tries to eat the bird. My wife goes out to
the taxi, while I went inside to get the cat. The cat runs upstairs, with me in
hot pursuit. Waiting in the cab, my wife doesn't want the driver to know that
the house will be empty for the night. So, she explains to the taxi driver that
I will be out soon, 'He's just going upstairs to say Goodbye to my mother.' A
few minutes later, I get into the cab. 'Sorry I took so long,' I said, as we
drove away. 'That stupid bitch was hiding under the bed. I had to poke her with
a coat hanger to get her to come out! She tried to take off, so I grabbed her by
the neck. Then, I had to wrap her in a blanket to keep her from scratching me.
But it worked! I hauled her fat ass downstairs and threw her out into the back
yard! The cab driver hit a parked car.

Stag and Cameo- Portsmouth OH

Thanks Jack! I'm glad you are a reader of my blog. Clay Vice and Judi Cole are the only others I am aware that visit it, although now 50-100 a day probably hit upon the blog. Clay gave it a big boost in readership a couple of years ago and now it is over 11,000 hits as the counter shows. I have had to reset the counter a few times with conservative estimates.

At any rate, I inquired about both downtown Portsmouth businesses. I never entered either while in HS, but used to lunch with Jeanie and her friend, Ce (Cecilia), at the Cameo later when she was convinced I was just infatuated with her. That was 61 years ago and we will be married 59 years next month. Infatuation left me in such a hypnotized state with my girl's beauty. She is only more beautiful today to me.

Sam


Saw some inquires about both businesses, I think , in your blog. Both places were important fixtures in the life and times of guys, of my age and the same can be said about the Cameo,for girls.Apple pie ala mode at the caneo and the bar b que sandwiches at the stag were the best I have eaten to date. Today. my motor scooter had a flat tire and I was forced to walk about 200 yards and I was completely exhausted.. I offer this little tidbit as a prelude to a brief narrative. One evening at the Cameo I was favored with the opportunity to sit with two very attractive young ladies a year younger than I, One, who shall remain nameless,was of especial interest. Long,lithe, lovely in every respect,-- including intelligence, Everybody rode buses then except on an occasional weekend so she suggested we walk home. We walked from the Cameo to her house on N.Hill Road. Talked awhile, only talked, during which time she indicated that she would not be offended if I continued to be interested in her..The buses had stopped running by this time, so I walked from her house to where I lived on Mabert Rd.Couldn't have managed that on the bus anyway. Today 200 yards, wore me out. That night 5?6?7? miles made me all the more elated........ That was one thing the Cameo could do for you.
Jack P.

Thanks Ray Springer, Fellow Denison employee

Is it too radical to have the laws of the land apply equally to all citizens, including our Congressional Delegation?
The 26th amendment (granting the right to vote for 18 year-olds) took only 3 months & 8 days to be ratified! Why? Simple! The people demanded it. That was in 1971... before computers, before e-mail, before cell phones, etc. Of the 27 amendments to the Constitution, seven took 1 year or less to become the law of the land... all because of public pressure.

I'm asking each addressee to forward this Email to a minimum of twenty people on their Address list; in turn ask each of those to do likewise. In three days, most people in The United States of America will have the message. This is one proposal that really should be passed around. Proposed 28th Amendment to the United States Constitution:


"Congress shall make no law that applies to the citizens of the United States that does not apply equally to the Senators and/or Representatives; and, Congress shall make no law that applies to the Senators and/or Representatives that does not apply equally to the citizens of the United States ."



You are one of my 20+. Please keep it going.

Dr. Hovermale is politically correct in his wishes

Subject: Fwd: To All My Friends








Subject: FW: To All My Democrat and Republican Friends



To All My Democrat Friends:

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2011, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere . Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.

To My Republican Friends:

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Dawood Kahn's Silk roads and Siamese Smiles

Dawood Khan's BlogSilk Roads and Siamese Smiles The Journey so far…ArchivesRSS Feed
barack obama, Black Gold, iran, Iraq, islam, Medina, Mekkah, Muslims, Oil, Osama bin Laden, Pakistan, saudi arabia, the Caliphate, the Nejd, Wahhabi, Wahhabism, War on Terror


Is Islam THE Problem?
In Afghanistan, Central Asia, islam, Middle East, Military, Politics, Religion, Stupidity, thinking out loud, War on December 13, 2010 at 12:01 am


Current Ass Kisser in Chief
No, I don’t think that to be the case. It’s not really about Islam generally speaking.

It’s more complicated than that.

Islam. Muslims. They’re not bad folks and many of them are damn fine people.

The problem that we won’t face is the Nejd.

Why?

Saudi Arabia owns it and has BLACK GOLD.

Also, the official religion of Saudi Arabia is the same form of Islam from which sprang all of the Fundamentalist Thugs who are terrorists. Saudi Arabia is a State Sponsor of Terrorism.

BUT because they have oil. It’s the truth that shall remain unspoken.

It is the evil with no name.

To speak it’s name is to reveal the truth.

It’s easier to keep the public ignorant and let a few hundred or a few thousand die at a time and keep the pipe line open to “cheap” oil.

What’s a few thousand civilians to Big Business and Big Government. Most of the ones who die don’t pay taxes or pay negligible taxes anyway. They don’t matter.

Saudi Arabia is the monster. Wahhabism is their little secret Dr. Frankenstein. Islamic Fundamentalism is the monster escaped from it’s dungeon.

It’s escaped before and the Muslims themselves went in and killed thousands of them in the Nejd while the Brits killed thousand more in the NWFP and the FATA in Central Asia.

Today, though, we choose to ignore the belly of the beast and instead, we “combat” the excretions.

Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands have died in the past 10 years.

Why?

To keep that Saudi oil pipeline open.


Obama receives the Honorary Order of the Saudi Boot Licker



For those of you who have no clue as to where Saudi Arabia is located.

LikeBe the first to like this post.▶ One Response
God please bless my friend Dave Kaelin! He speaks while knowing whereof he speaks.

Reply
SamKat

22 December 2010 at 3am

Portsmouth OH Plymalisms

Ted Truitt- One small comment from me in a reply is why the warning opens when my blog is approached. You loved these Mabert Roaders like Mr. Plymale, didn't you. Of course, I am a Mound Park urchin, McConnell Ave. guy.

Christmas is not a bad time for a recycle of a Christian act.

Thanks Clay and Carol Vice- Greats of the girls'softball world from the Cultural Center of Our Universe- Portsmouth OH.

SamKat aka Sam Kegley

Life is a journey but the destination is the Beach!!



Psalm 55:22 --- you really need to read this 'Friends are God's way of taking care of us.'

This was written by a Metro Denver Hospice Physician:

I was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die - I barely managed to coast , cursing, into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn't even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the quickie mart building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen; she was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95.

I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying 'I don't want my kids to see me crying!,' so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. So I asked, 'And you were praying?' That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, 'He heard you, and He sent me.'

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fueling, walked to the next door McDonald's and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She told me her name, and that she lived in Kansas City . Her boyfriend left 2 months ago and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent Jan. 1, and finally, in desperation, had called her parents, with whom she had not spok en in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them and try to get on her feet there.

So she packed up everything she owned in the car. She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas, but not that they were going to live there. I gave her my gloves, a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, 'So, are you like an angel or something?'

This definitely made me cry. I said, 'Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people.'

It was so incredible to be a part of someone else's miracle. And of course, you guessed it, when I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem. I'll put it in the shop tomorrow to check, but I suspect the mechanic won't find anything wrong.

Sometimes the angels fly close enough to you that you can hear the flutter of their wings...

Psalms 55:22 ' Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.'

My instructions were to pick four people that I wanted God to bless, especially for the months left in 2010, and I picked you.

Please pass this to four people you want to be blessed and a copy back to me.. Here is the prayer:

'Father, I ask You to bless my children, grandchildren, friends, relatives and email buddies reading this right now. Show them a new revelation of your love and power. Holy Spirit, I ask You to minister to their spirit this very moment. Where there is pain, give them Your peace and mercy. Where there is self doubt, release a renewed confidence through Your grace, In Jesus' precious name. Amen.'

I know I picked more than four -- you can, too.
http://www.papercut.biz/emailStripper.htm

Christmas on the Ranch... Thanks Ramey Hoskins!

CHRISTMAS ON THE RANCH



'Twas the night before Christmas and out on the ranch

The pond was froze over, and so was the branch.

The snow was piled up belly-deep to a mule.

The kids were all home on vacation from school,



And happier young folks you never did see –

Just all sprawled around a-watchin' TV.

Then suddenly, some time around 8 o'clock,

There came a surprise that gave them a shock!



The power went off, the TV went dead!

When Grandpa came in from out in the shed

With an armload of wood, the house was all dark.

"Just what I expected," they heard him remark.



"Them power line wires must be down from the snow.

Seems sorter like times on the ranch long ago."

"I'll hunt up some candles," said Mom. "With their light,

And the fireplace, I reckon we'll make out all right."



The teen-agers all seemed enveloped in gloom.

Then Grandpa came back from a trip to his room,

Uncased his old fiddle and started to play

That old Christmas song about bells on a sleigh.



Mom started to sing, and first thing they knew

Both Pop and the kids were all singing it, too.

They sang Christmas carols, they sang "Holy Night,"

Their eyes all a-shine in the ruddy firelight.



They played some charades Mom recalled from her youth,

And Pop read a passage from God's Book of Truth.

They stayed up till midnight-and, would you believe,

The youngsters agreed 'twas a fine Christmas Eve.



Grandpa rose early, some time before dawn;

And when the kids wakened, the power was on.

"The power company sure got the line repaired quick,"

Said Grandpa -- and no one suspected his trick.



Last night, for the sake of some old-fashioned fun,

He had pulled the main switch - the old Son-of-a-Gun!

Country Christmas... Thanks Clay!

HEY GUYS THIS MAY TAKE A LITTLE OF YOU PREACHERS TIME TO READ, BUT IT IS VERY
REWARDING.

CLAY



This is what a country Christmas is all about...



"Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their
means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were
genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him
that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from
receiving.

It was Christmas Eve. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had
caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the
rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for
some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read
in the Bible.

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the
fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling
sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read
Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and
went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the
chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in
self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his
beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I
was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas,
now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I
could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of
anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I
knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them
to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat,
and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the
house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the
work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to
do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never
hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already
up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold
was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled
around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I
followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help
me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with
just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be
a lot bigger with the high side boards on.

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came
out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down
from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What
was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"

"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived
about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and
left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but
so what?

Yeah," I said, "Why?"

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the
woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt."

That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for
another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I
began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a
halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big
ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the
sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his
right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.

"What's in the little sack?" I asked.

"Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped
around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the
children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little
candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to
think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards.
Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was
still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split
before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that,
but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and
candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer
neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as
quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door.
We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"

"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?"
Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around
her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in
front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at
all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of
flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the
shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a
time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children - sturdy
shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her
lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and
started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say
something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said,
"Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and
heat this place up."

I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a
big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in
my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the
fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks
with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart
swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before filled my soul. I
had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much
difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started
giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked
on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She
finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent
you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his
angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up
in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but
after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was
sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started
remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many
others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when
they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I
guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make
sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave.
Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to
him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I
was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to
invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey
will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if
he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about
eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here,
hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers
and two sisters had all married and had moved away.

Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to
say, may the Lord bless you; I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even
notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I
want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money
away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we
didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money
from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real
excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into
town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out
scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I
knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy
for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well
and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list
of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow
Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block
of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt
riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle
that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life."

Don't be too busy today. Share this country Christmas message with someone.
God loves you! Have a Merry Christmas!

My blog has been taken over today by the Lynch''s.

You have good email buddies, Tom & Carolyn!


The best and most beautiful things of
this world can't be seen or touched.
They must be felt by the heart.



.

~ A Baby's Hug ~


We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.' He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed.. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.

We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.. 'Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster,' the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks,
'What do we do?'

Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.'
Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, 'Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.'

Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk.
My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man.
Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.

I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, 'You take care of this baby.'

Somehow I managed, 'I will,' from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, 'God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift.'

I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.'

I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not.. I felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share your son for a moment?' when He shared His for all eternity. How did God feel when he put his baby in our arms 2000 years ago.

The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, 'To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.'

If this has blessed you, please bless others by sending it on. Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important. We must always remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel about others. The clothes on your back or the car that you drive or the house that you live in does not define you at all; it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.

This one is a keeper.

'It is better to be liked for the true you, than to be loved for who people think you are......'(Amen! )
I believe we could all take lessons from Gods little children!!!

Deaf wife... thanks Tom & Carolyn!

DEAF WIFE ....."priceless"

A man feared his wife wasn't hearing as well as she used to and he thought she might need a hearing aid.


Not quite sure how to approach her, he called the family doctor to discuss the problem.


The Doctor told him there is a simple informal test the husband could perform to give the doctor a better idea about her hearing loss.


Here's what you do," said the Doctor, "stand about 40 feet away from her, and in a normal conversational speaking tone see if she hears you.

If not, go to 30 feet, then 20 feet, and so on until you get a response."


That evening, the wife is in the kitchen cooking dinner, and he was in the den. He says to himself, "I'm about 40 feet away, let's see what happens."

Then in a normal tone he asks, 'Honey, what's for dinner?"


No response..


So the husband moves closer to the kitchen, about 30 feet from his wife and repeats, "Honey, what's for dinner?"


Still no response.


Next he moves into the dining room where he is about 20 feet from his wife and asks, "Honey, what's for dinner?"


Again he gets no response.


So, he walks up to the kitchen door, about 10 feet away. "Honey, what's for dinner?"


Again there is no response.

So he walks right up behind her.. "Honey, what's for dinner?"



(I just love this)


"Ralph, for THE FIFTH time, CHICKEN!"

Great story Tom & Carolyn (Rowson) Lynch!

Another Christmas pageant gone well... gone!


Great story





Enjoy!














THE CHRISTMAS PAGEANT



My husband and I had been happily
married (most of the time)
for five years
but hadn't been blessed with a baby.

I decided to do some serious
praying and promised God
that if he would give us a child,
I would be a perfect mother,
love it with all my heart
and raise it with His word
as my guide.

God answered my prayers
and blessed us with a son.

The next year God blessed us
with another son.

The following year,
He blessed us with
yet another son.

The year after that we
were blessed with a daughter.

My husband thought we'd
been blessed right into poverty.
We now had four children,
and the oldest was only
four years old.

I learned never to ask God
for anything unless I meant it
As a minister once told me,
"If you pray for rain,
make sure you carry an umbrella."

I began reading a few verses
of the Bible to the children
each day as they lay in their cribs..

I was off to a good start.
God had entrusted me
with four children and
I didn't want to disappoint Him.

I tried to be patient the day
the children smashed
two dozen eggs on
the kitchen floor searching
for baby chicks.

I tried to be understanding...
when they started a hotel for
homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours
to catch all twenty-three frogs.

When my daughter poured
ketchup all over herself and
rolled up in a blanket to see
how it felt to be a hot dog,
I tried to see the humor
rather than the mess..

In spite of changing over
twenty-five thousand diapers,
never eating a hot meal
and never sleeping for more
than thirty minutes at a time,
I still thank God daily for my children.

While I couldn't keep my promise
to be a perfect mother -
I didn't even come close...
I did keep my promise
to raise them in the Word of God.

I knew I was missing the mark
just a little when I told
my daughter we were going
to church to worship God,
and she wanted to bring
a bar of soap along to
"wash up" Jesus, too.

Something was lost
in the translation when
I explained that
God gave us everlasting life,
and my son thought it was
generous of God to give
us his "last wife."

My proudest moment came
during the children's
Christmas pageant.

My daughter was playing Mary,
two of my sons were shepherds
and my youngest son was a wise man.
This was their moment to shine.

My five-year-old shepherd
had practiced his line,
"We found the babe wrapped
in swaddling clothes."

But he was nervous and said,
"The baby was wrapped
in wrinkled clothes."

My four-year-old "Mary" said,
"That's not 'wrinkled clothes,' silly.
That's dirty, rotten clothes."

A wrestling match broke out
between Mary and the shepherd
and was stopped by an angel,
who bent her halo and lost
her left wing.

I slouched a little lower
in my seat when Mary
dropped the doll representing
Baby Jesus, and it bounced
down the aisle crying,
"Mama-mama."

Mary grabbed the doll,
wrapped it back up
and held it tightly as
the wise men arrived.

My other son stepped forward
wearing a bathrobe
and a paper crown,
knelt at the manger
and announced,
"We are the three wise men,
and we are bringing gifts
of gold,
common sense
and fur."

The congregation
dissolved into laughter,
and the pageant
got a standing ovation.

"I've never enjoyed a Christmas
program as much as this one,"
laughed the pastor,
wiping tears from his eyes

"For the rest of my life,
I'll never hear the
Christmas story without
thinking of
gold,
common sense
and fur."

"My children are my pride
and my joy and my greatest
blessing," I said as I dug
through my purse for an aspirin.

Jesus had no servants,
yet they called Him Master.

Had no degree,
yet they called Him Teacher .

Had no medicines,
yet they called Him Healer.

Had no army,
yet kings feared Him.

He won no military battles,
yet He conquered the world.
He committed no crime,
yet they crucified Him.

He was buried in a tomb,
yet He lives today.

Feel honored
to serve such a Leader
who loves us.

If you believe in
God and in Jesus Christ His Son,
send this to all on your buddy list.
GOD BLESS YOUALL!