Sweet Sarah

I first met her at my doctor's office. She was beautiful, and her name is Sarah. She had a calming effect on me, causing me to see things somewhat differently. It took a little pleading, a little persuading, but I was able to have it agreed that I could take her out. I'm looking forward to this. My wife is at a W. o. F. convention (Wives of Farmers---they call themselves WoFFles) in Dover right now, so she won't know. I won't tell if you won't tell. Tonight I'll meet Sarah again with, I hope, a pleasant outcome. I'm excited. I'm looking forward to my date with Sarah Tonin.

His Elevator Doesn't Go All the Way Up

I was standing in the hallway of the building and awaiting the elevator to reach my floor. This impatient dude arrived right after me and pushed the elevator button, which was already lighted, several times.

"No, no," I said to him, "if you keep pushing the button, the increased acceleration of the elevator can harm its current passengers."

"Oh, sorry," he replied.

When Mr. Opportunity Knocks

I was so damn depressed last night, worrying about my hoarding, my Social Security, the economy, the wars, rising poverty, floods and fires, the demise of good rock-and-roll, etc. So I called a suicide center. Somehow I reached one in Pakistan. When I told the hotline person my problem, he became so excited and asked me if I knew how to drive a truck.

Revenge of the Nerds

The little woman and I now have six grandchildren: four boys and two girls, two children for each of our own three offspring. Our own children are traditional, thank goodness-- no wild tattoos or piercings, no bleached blonds, etc. They even gave traditional names to the grandkids. But then it struck me. As I rearranged the names of the six, they came out to be: Donald, Huey, Duey, Louie, Daisy, and Minnie. Arrrgh! What a cruel joke to play on their old man!

You Are What You Are

Another early autumn, another school year. I miss my students---well, most of them. I miss calling each one "student." Most of them didn't like that. My colleagues called them "kids," a word which I (and my own old-time teachers) always considered second-rate English, to be used not of children beyond elementary-grade age, and to be used only in private in family circles. It always baffled me why teachers wouldn't call their clients by the one word which most precisely and with dignity signifies what they are: "student." Then I tried calling the youngsters by these other words: backpacker, deskoccupier, hallrambler, testbomber, "hey, you"---but they didn't like those names either.

Oddly, almost none of my students objected to being called "Christian" or "Catholic," although "Christian" appears only four or five times in the entire New Testament, and "Catholic" appears not at all. The word, "disciple," which the students would also proudly accept, appears almost 300 times in the N.T. Guess what "disciple" means? "Student."

Starbucks Cathedral

Early last evening I stopped at a Starbucks for a coffee and snack on my way home from my Hoarders Anonymous meeting. That Starbucks, I've noticed, is used by many young people as a meetup place. I couldn't help notice a young woman and a man who had just seated themselves at a table; I could tell they were meeting for the first time. The man had, er, one bad eye, a somewhat disfigured face, and a kind of hump on his back.

"So," the woman said to him, "your profile says that you like heights and hearing bells."

That's when I left.

Yes, Morm. No, Morm. Whatever You Say, Morm

The next season of tv programs is upon us. A recently new one is called "16 and Pregnant." Must be filmed entirely in Utah.