Archive for funny stuff

It Was Bound To Happen!

This is a true story. It happened in the summer of 1998 when Sherry and I lived in Pflugerville. It was a dawning of the ages, I suspect. I hope it brings a smile to your face; it does mine, every time I read it.

The Grouchy Old Man

 Was not long ago this happenin’ happent

On a Saturday as I best recall

Out the window I saw some kids in a tree

And thought, what if they should fall Read the rest of this entry »

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Figments Of My E-magination

old guy computerIt’s kind of weird having friends you’ve never laid eyes on. Same is true for all the old friends from the past. Haven’t seen some of them in 50 years, but it’s almost like you’ve spent your whole life with them. Except when they post their picture… THAT changes everything! Read the rest of this entry »

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No Sir, I Ain’t No Cowboy

Long before I worked at Roger Robideaux’s Gulf station where I used to shoot the breeze with a couple of real cowboys—Tom Cox, and James Caan—I found out I was not cut out to be one.

Oh, I had heroes like John Wayne, Marshall Matt Dillon, Rowdy Yates, and so on, but I learned the hard way that being a cowboy wasn’t as easy as it looked on TV. I learned this when I was about eleven or twelve years old. We used to go to Flay Randolph’s ranch just outside of Buckeye, and he’d saddle up a horse, and let us take turns riding it in the alfalfa field

On one of those visits I was riding in the pasture, where some steers—not very big ones—were grazing. The saddle Flay had put on the horse for me had a lariat hanging on the side, by the saddle horn, so I figured I might as well try my hand at calf roping. I’d seen Rowdy and the boys do it on Rawhide, and it didn’t look too hard.

calf roperSo, I took the rope off the saddle and got it ready, then rode up alongside one of the steers. The steer didn’t seem to notice I was there, so I just dropped the rope over its head; piece a cake. One problem: The steer didn’t like it at all, and it took off running across the pasture.

No problem, I thought, as I grabbed onto the rope and yanked back like I’d seen them do on TV. Next thing I know, I’m air born, then skidding along the ground learning what alfalfa tastes like. I finally let go of the rope, and after I’d recovered a bit, limped over to the house and told Flay what I’d done.

When he finally quit laughing, Flay saddled up another horse and with me riding behind him, went out to retrieve his rope and my horse. Horse and steer were grazing side-by-side when we arrived. After I jumped down off the horse, Flay dropped his lasso over the steers head and—of course—it ran off again. But, to my amazement, it stopped abruptly when it got to the end of the rope. I followed the taught line of the rope back to Flay’s horse and saw that the other end of the rope was tied to the saddle horn. Flay just grinned and said, “Go git your horse, cowboy.”

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Wondering how I knew James Caan? Click on this link: Working With James Caan

And, if you’re curious who Roger Robideaux is, click on this one: Don’t Do That!

Tom Cox? Shoot… everybody knows who Tom is!

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Don’t Do That!

Back in the day, some gas stations gave out “stamps” with each gas purchase. Customers could save them and exchange them at the Green Stamp store, or Blue Chip Stamp store for some pretty cool stuff.

gulf stationI was nineteen, and I’d been working for Roger Robideaux—he was a pretty cool guy—at the Gulf Station for a few weeks, when I noticed a lot of people didn’t want the stamps. I figured it was probably too much trouble; saving them, licking them, and driving all the way into Phoenix to the stamp store. So! I got this fabulous idea; if a customer didn’t want their stamps, I would keep them!

In no time at all I had a mess of Blue Chip stamps, and was off to the Blue Chip Store, where I got an eight-track tape player for my car. This stamp bidness was the bomb!

A week or so later I was sitting in Roger’s office chair, my feet up on his desk, browsing through the Blue Chip catalog, deciding what to get next, when Roger walked in.

He looked at the catalog then looked at me with his head cocked to one side and asked, “When a customer says they don’t want their Blue Chip stamps, what do you do?”

I grinned. “I keep them,” I said, raising the catalog. “You can get neat stuff!”

“Don’t do that!” he barked. He seemed excited, and maybe a little bit mad, but it was hard to tell with Roger.

“How come?” I said.

He did a funny little dancing jig, rolled his eyes and said, “Because I have to pay for the stamps!”

That made no sense at all to my nineteen-year-old brain. “Then why do you give them away?”

He went over and hit the wall with his hand, danced a little more and said, “Just don’t keep them. Okay?”

The bell rang, signaling we had a customer at the gas pumps, so I slapped the Blue Chip catalog onto the desk, gave Roger a little salute—I was kind of a smart aleck sometimes—said, “Got it, chief,” then sauntered out the door.

After I’d filled the customer’s tank, I asked them if they wanted their Blue Chip stamps. The lady said, “I sure do. You can get lots of nice stuff with those stamps.”

I grinned and said, “Yeah, I heard about that.”

I figured Roger was watching me, so when I got to the driver’s window, I made a big show of holding the stamps up where he could see them, handed them to the customer, held my empty hands up for Roger to see, and smiled real big. Did I mention I was a smart aleck sometimes?

Roger smacked himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand then did one of his little dancing fits. Yep, he was a cool guy to work for, ol’ Roger.

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One Ringy Dingy

Mom and Ray are back in Oklahoma again, but that doesn’t mean Mom intends to do without the goodies I got her hooked on while they were living with us. Such things as apple bread, all kinds of cookies, homemade jalapeno cheese bread, homemade jam, and so on. So, Monday morning, as I was deciding what to fill the box with for Mom’s twice monthly shipment, I thought she’d probably appreciate it if I included some of my world famous pecan waffles. We freeze them, and then toast them; kind of like an Eggo, but oh… a THOUSAND times better! I ship the stuff to her priority, so she gets them in two days, and puts them in the fridge or freezer.

Here’s the weird part; I put the package in the mail around noon on Monday, and Mom called me at about 6:00 P.M. that evening. She says, “When you put my next package in the mail, there’s something I want you to include.” I said, “Too late, it’s already on the way.” Mom said, “That’s okay, but next time, would you send me some pecan waffles?”

one ringy dingyWow! Mom and I have always had a “connection”, and it seems we read each other’s minds quite often. But, this instance of it was maybe the most amazing one yet! It was as if she called it in!

 

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That’s One Ugly Mug Shot!

Bet you thought it would be a picture of me. Well, I don’t blame you. Why else would I use a duck for my Facebook profile picture?

But no, this pic is about cleaning house—downsizing—and how it’s made me wonder over and over, where’d we get all this stuff?

In the last few weeks, we’ve done some serious purging, getting rid of things we don’t use. Some of those things hadn’t been used in ten years! We have thrown out at least a pickup load of absolutely worthless things, and given away a couple of pickup loads to a local charity shop (The House of Hope). And we’re not finished! What is it that causes us cling to possessions like we do? With me it’s often the old “I might need that someday” syndrome.

mugsOne of the rooms we haven’t gotten to yet in this recent purging effort is the kitchen. As I reached for “my” coffee mug this morning ( I’ve had it and used it daily since 2007) I realized there were a lot of coffee cups in the cabinet. I counted them, and found we own thirty-two coffee cups!

Granted, when we have lots of people over—that happens maybe two or three times a year—we need at least six or so coffee cups. So, doing the math—naught, naught, carry the naught—we still have approximately two dozen extra coffee cups. Yep, any way you look at it, that’s one ugly mug shot right there!

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Let’s Face It

The world has changed a bit. Some things have changed for the good, and some for the not so good. It’s always been that way; a steady moving on kind of thing that occasionally slows, but never stops. You can’t stop progress, ya know. Read the rest of this entry »

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