October 11 '03
Volume 384
Cloud Rider
Planes And Automobiles
Whenever I'm away
from home on business, I always try to call each evening to let
my wife know that I'm still alive, to find out how things are with all our
family members, and to ascertain the general status of Pontotoc. I was assigned
to a group of retail stores in Rockford, IL, last week, and on the night
of September 30th, I phoned home but only spoke to the answering
machine.
A couple of hours passed, and I tried to contact Barbara again and left another
message on the answering machine. Since it was after nine o'clock and I needed
to be up at five the next morning, I decided to try her cell phone. I have
a hard enough time keeping up with Barbara's schedule when I'm in Pontotoc,
but I really struggle when I'm on the road.
After her cell phone rang a few times, I heard Barbara's usual, "Hello."
"Where are you?" I asked, knowing she'd either see my name on her caller
ID or else recognize my voice.
"I'm on a cloud," she replied.
"A cloud?" I heard myself saying, while wondering if I had missed the "rapture."
Finally, I remembered she had planned to pick up her new car from the dealer
in Belmont, MS.
"Oh, you're in your new car?" I inquired. "So, it's like riding on a cloud,
huh?"
"Yeah, it's smooth," Barbara explained.
"Who took you up there?" I asked.
"I drove myself and left my car at Rayanne's house," she stated. "I asked
Jason to go with me, but he said he didn't want to miss the Cubs' game on
TV."
It's times like these that I don't know whether I should admire my son's
dedication to his favorite baseball team or question his DNA. All I know
is, had my mother asked me to do something similar, I'd have been more
accommodating.
"Well, I'm glad you got your new car, but how are you going to get the old
car back to Pontotoc?" I asked.
"Rayanne said they might bring it the next time they come to Pontotoc, or
we'll go get it later," Barbara elaborated.
She didn't say who the "we" was, but I figured it would probably involve
me.
I had been riding clouds via the airways on my recent trips to Wisconsin
and Illinois, trips that were relatively smooth on the 180-seat airplanes
of AirTran, so I understood her comparison of being on a cloud in her car.
However, I didn't fully appreciate her comments until Friday night when Barbara
and our niece, Cheryl Radford, met me at the airport in Memphis, and I had
the privilege of driving the LeSabre for the first time.
When Barbara test-drove the LeSabre a couple of weeks ago, I rode as a passenger.
Since Barbara was to be the primary driver, I figured if the car suited her,
it didn't matter what I thought of its comfort level, and, based on her old
LeSabre, I felt good about her decision.
As I drove Barbara's new car toward Olive Branch, MS, where the three of
us planned to dine, I had no trouble identifying with Barbara's assessment
of the car's "feel." It really did feel as though I were riding on a cloud.
It was dark as we left the airport, and the lights of the cars following
behind us prompted me to reach for the dimmer lever on the rear-view mirror,
but there wasn't a lever.
"How do you adjust this thing?" I asked, while fidgeting with the mirror.
"We couldn't figure it out," Barbara commented. "It's got an 'auto' and an
'off' button. I tried both of them and it didn't do anything."
I pressed first one button then the other and saw no immediate change except
the "auto" button caused a indicator light to illuminate. However, moments
later I looked in the rearview mirror and noticed a color change had occurred.
Instead of yellowish appearing headlights, as before, I was looking into
an eerie green field of view that reminded me of TV scenes where night vision
lens are used.
"How about that," I relayed to Cheryl and Barbara. "It's working. Everything
has a greenish look."
While I was familiar with the polarizing effect of manually operated dimmers,
this was my first encounter with an electronic dimmer. As soon as there was
enough distance between our car and those behind us so that the intensity
of light striking the sensor in the rearview mirror was greatly reduced,
the appearance of objects in the mirror regained their "normal" appearance.
After a pleasurable dining experience at "Phil It To The Brim" in Olive Branch,
Barbara and I parted company with Cheryl and made our way toward Pontotoc.
I spent much of the drive fiddling with controls on the instrument panel,
as most were new to me. We arrived in Pontotoc shortly after ten, much sooner
than I expected. However, time flies when you're riding on a cloud.
Warm Shower
Wisconsin Water Problems
The second week I spent in Wisconsin was something of a repeat of the first
week in that I experienced problems with a motel's shower. The biggest difference
between my two shower experiences related to water temperature. In the first
week, a sudden loss of hot water left me scrambling for relief from the cold
spraying I received. The problem I experienced the second week was a warm
shower.
Bill Waller, a Bakery/ Deli Specialist, who lives near Laurel, MS, and I
were the only representatives from the Southeast Region assigned to Team
2 of Week 2 of the SUPERVALU project code-named, "Frost." We both stayed
the week at an Amerihost Inn in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin. Bill arrived
a day earlier than I did.
I checked the water temperature in both the tub and the lavatory before bedding
down on Monday night and noticed the water in the lavatory was warmer than
that in the tub. The tub had one of those single handled faucets that rotates
about a quarter of a turn while regulating water temperature by simultaneously
mixing cold water and hot water.
Early Tuesday morning, I cranked the tub faucet wide open and waited for
the water to get hot. However, it didn't get hot. Somehow I managed to survive
a warm shower that morning, but I pledged myself to finding a hotter shower
for Wednesday morning. I didn't have time Tuesday morning to ask about moving
to a different room, but upon returning to the motel late that afternoon,
I made the clerk at the desk aware of my displeasure with the shower in my
room. She said she'd have a maintenance person check it out the next morning,
but being eager to please her Southern guest, the young lady gave me a key
to an adjacent room in hopes of solving my shower crisis.
One may well imagine my disappointment when I discovered the shower in the
new room was no hotter than in my room. I walked downstairs to relay my concerns.
"It's just like the other room," I confided. "The water in the sink is fine,
but the shower is just warm. I didn't move in, so here's the key."
"You'll have to move, now," she insisted. "You've run water in the tub and
sink and unsealed the room!"
Since she wasn't a manager, I didn't give her a hard time, though I didn't
see how it could possibly matter whether I stayed in my old room or the new
room. If both had to be cleaned before being rented to another guest, what
difference would it make?
Bill Waller walked into the lobby area about the time the clerk and I were
discussing the warm water situation.
"What's the matter with your shower?" he asked.
I explained about the sink water being hot and the shower being warm.
"Did you turn the knob to hot?" he wanted to know. "My shower is fine."
"I turned it as far as it would go without twisting it off." I responded,
only slightly insulted by what I presumed to be an assumption that I didn't
have enough gumption to turn the knob as far as possible.
"It's got a handle and a knob," he elaborated. "Did you turn the knob?"
Seeing my puzzled expression, Bill commanded, "Come on down to my room, and
I'll show you."
Bill used the handle to turn the water on and then pointing to the knob,
stated, "Now, you set the temperature with this."
Sure enough, as he moved the knob to the left the water got much hotter.
"Well, I'll be danged," I commented. "I’d have never figured out how
that thing worked."
I felt a little foolish after realizing my ignorance. But, in my defense,
and I do have one, I had never used a similar shower. Plus, I don't shower
with my glasses on, and at a distance of three feet I can't read much of
anything or make out the fine details of a newfangled faucet. What I thought
was thumb rest on the handle, turned out to be a temperature control that
remembers it's setting from one shower to the next.
I may be an old dog, but once I'm shown a new trick, I've got it. My morning
showers for the rest of the week were as hot as I could stand them.
Bodock Beau
Humor - Good For Your Soul
Here are three jokes, all of which I like, and I am grateful for those who
contributed them.
Why Men Lie
One day, while a woodcutter was cutting a branch of a tree above a river,
his ax fell into the river. When he cried out, the Lord appeared and asked,
"Why are you crying?"
The woodcutter replied that his ax had fallen into water, and he needed the
ax to make his living.
The Lord went down into the water and reappeared with a golden ax.
"Is this your ax?" the Lord asked.
The woodcutter replied, "No."
The Lord again went down and came up with a silver ax.
"Is this your ax?" the Lord asked.
Again, the woodcutter replied, "No."
The Lord went down again and came up with an iron ax.
"Is this your ax?" the Lord asked.
The woodcutter replied, "Yes."
The Lord was pleased with the man's honesty and gave him all three axes to
keep, and the woodcutter went home happy.
Some time later the woodcutter was walking with his wife along the riverbank,
and his wife fell into the river.
When he cried out, the Lord again appeared and asked him, "Why are you crying?"
"Oh Lord, my wife has fallen into the water!"
The Lord went down into the water and came up with Jennifer Lopez.
"Is this your wife?" the Lord asked. "Yes," cried the woodcutter.
The Lord was furious. "You lied! That is an untruth!"
The woodcutter replied, "Oh, forgive me, my Lord. It is a misunderstanding.
You see, if I had said no to Jennifer Lopez, you would have come up with
Catherine Zeta-Jones. Then if I also said no to her, you would have come
up with my wife. Had I then said yes, you would have given me all three.
Lord, I am a poor man, and am not able to take care of all three wives, so
that's why I said yes to Jennifer Lopez."
The moral of this story is: Whenever a man lies, it is for a good and honorable
reason, and for the benefit of others.
That's our story, and we're sticking to it!
Contributed by Vickie Murphree
FHA Loan
A New Orleans lawyer sought an FHA loan for a client. He was told the loan
would be granted if he could prove satisfactory title to a parcel of property
being offered as collateral. The title to the property dated back to 1803,
which took the Lawyer three months to track down. After sending the information
to the FHA, he received the following reply (actual letter):
"Upon review of your letter adjoining your client's loan application, we
note that the request is supported by an Abstract of Title. While we compliment
the able manner in which you have prepared and presented the application,
we must point out that you have only cleared title to the proposed collateral
property back to 1803. Before final approval can be accorded, it will be
necessary to clear the title back to its origin."
Annoyed, the lawyer responded as follows (actual letter):
"Your letter regarding title in Case No. 189156 has been received. I note
that you wish to have title extended further than the 194 years covered by
the present application. I was unaware that any educated person in this country,
particularly those working in the property area, would not know that Louisiana
was purchased, by the U.S., from France in 1803, the year of origin identified
in our application. For the edification of uninformed FHA bureaucrats, the
title to the land prior to U.S. ownership was obtained from France, which
had acquired it by Right of Conquest from Spain.
The land came into the possession of Spain by Right of Discovery made in
the year 1492 by a sea captain named Christopher Columbus, who had been granted
the privilege of seeking a new route to India by the Spanish monarch, Isabella.
The good queen, Isabella, being a pious woman and almost as careful about
titles as the FHA, took the precaution of securing the blessing of the Pope
before she sold her jewels to finance Columbus' expedition. Now the Pope,
as I'm sure you may know, is the emissary of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
and God, it is commonly accepted, created this world.
Therefore, I believe it is safe to presume that God also made that part of
the world called Louisiana. God, therefore, would be the owner of origin
and His origins date back, to before the beginning of time, the world as
we know it AND the FHA. I hope you find God's original claim to be satisfactory.
Now, may we have our @#$!! loan?"
The loan was approved.
Contributed by Ken Gaillard
Small Talk - Deep Thought
A woman is driving toward home in Northern Arizona when she sees a Navajo
woman hitchhiking. Because the trip had been long and quiet, she stops the
car and the Navajo woman climbs in.
During their small talk, the Navajo woman glances surreptitiously at a brown
bag on the front seat between them.
"If you're wondering what's in the bag," offers the woman, "it's a bottle
of wine. I got it for my husband."
The Navajo woman is silent for a while, nods several times and says, "Good
trade"
Contributed by Ken Gaillard
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