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The time for New Year’s Resolutions is past, but it is never too late to share some thoughts about how to improve the quality of our lives, no matter which birthday we have or will celebrate.
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The recent pathetic attempt to arrange for our first snowstorm of the thus-far mild winter conjures up all kinds of memories about adventures in the snow, some pleasant and some not so much. After 75 years in the work force, I can appreciate the attention to detail. Ho! Ho! Ho! We received about 2 inches of snow yesterday and: 8:00 a.m.: I made a snowman. 8:10 - A feminist passed by and asked me why I didn›t make a snow woman. 8:15 - So, I made a snow woman. 8:17 - My feminist neighbor complained about the snow woman’s voluptuous chest saying it objectified women everywhere. 8:20 - The gay couple living nearby threw a hissy fit and moaned it could have been two snowmen instead. 8:22 - The transgender man.. women... person asked why I didn’t just make one snow person with detachable parts. 8:25 - The vegans at the end of the lane complained about the carrot nose, as veggies are food and are not used to decorate snow figures. 8:28 - I was being called a racist because the snow couple is white. 8:30 - I used food coloring to make one of the snow couple a different color and be more racially inclusive. 8:37 - Then accused of using a black face on the snowperson. 8:39 - The middle eastern gent across the road demanded the snow woman be completely covered. 8:40 - The police arrived saying someone had been offended. 8:42 - The feminist neighbor complained again that the broomstick of the snow woman needed to be removed because it depicted women in a domestic role. 8:43 - The ‘council on equality’ officer arrived and threatened me with eviction. 8:45 - TV news crew from ABC showed up. I was asked if I know the difference between snowmen and snow-women? I replied “Snowballs” and am now a sexist. 9:00 - I was on the news as a suspected terrorist, racist, homophobe, and sensibility offender, bent on stirring up trouble during difficult weather. 9:10 - I was asked if I have any accomplices. My children were taken by social services. 9:29 - Far left protesters offended by everything marched down the street demanding that I be arrested. 9:45 - The boss called and fired me because of the negative association with work that had been all over social media. 10:00 - I cry into my drink because all I wanted to do was build a snowman...Moral: There ain’t no moral to this story. It is what this world has become because of a bunch of snowflakes.
Read moreFor the past two years this has been the question. Will this covid thing ever end? We can look back to the 1940s and 50s for guidance. Back then another viral infection was terrorizing the world. In a one-week period (1947) during the polio epidemic two children died in Stonewall. I knew them both and it certainly got my attention. One was a boy, my age who, healthy and riding his bike around Stonewall one day, died in his sleep that next night. Chocked to death by a paralyzing virus called polio. The next Sunday, a pretty teen girl went to Sunday School at the First Baptist Church with a sore throat.
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One of my grandsons got an archery set for Christmas and loves it. Around the same time my friend Kevin Fisher shared the following story . . .
Read moreYes, there are people who live on this earth who see to it. One such individual was a “faithful” customer of mine way back in the 1970s. He was a chronic complain-er who was forever being shorted on his medicine, by me. The city overcharged him on his water and the butcher over at Allen Food Center always weighed his meat orders heavy. He had a rough life. He had one prescription for 30 pills. Cheap. So cheap that I only charged him a buck a month for his 30 pills. But of course, he said I always cheated him anyway so I just made it a point to give him an extra pill or two. This gift was never acknowledged.
Read moreIt has been a long time since I worried about exercising. Tim Jones has decided to follow m y example. He writes . . . Put Down Your Dumbbell
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I know the Christmas season has just passed us by and I had a nice little holiday column all typed and ready to go when I ran across the following little ditty from my fellow Holdenville High School graduate and Jones, America banker deluxe Donna
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I must admit there are days that I think I can’t handle one more problem. I was sharing with a friend this past week about a particularly rough week. He shared the following with me.
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