Mom is always scolding me to stretch after my walk. Should I show her this as a reason not to?
Love,
Dad
Dear Joe,
Is the phrase “old fart” still around. Don’t let my grandson see this email. He’s got too much bathroom humor already.
Love,
Dad
Actually, it’s not a bad thing to be called, as you will see. Old Farts are easy to spot at sporting events; during the playing of the Star Spangled Banner. Old Farts remove their caps and stand at attention and sing without embarrassment. They know the words and believe in them.
Old Farts remember World War II, Pearl Harbor, Guadalcanal , Normandy and Hitler. They remember the Atomic Age, the Korean War, The Cold War , the Jet Age and the Moon Landing. They remember the 50 plus Peacekeeping Missions from 1945 to 2005, not to mention Vietnam.
If you bump into an Old Fart on the sidewalk he will apologize. If you pass an Old Fart on the street, he will nod or tip his cap to a lady. Old Farts trust strangers and are courtly to women.
Old Farts hold the door for the next person and always, when walking, make certain the lady is on the inside for protection.
Old Farts get embarrassed if someone curses in front of women and children and they don’t like any filth or dirty language on TV or in movies.
Old Farts have moral courage and personal integrity. They seldom brag unless it’s about their children or grandchildren.
It’s the Old Farts who know our great country is protected, not by politician’s, but by the young men and women in the military serving their country.
This country needs Old Farts with their work ethic, sense of responsibility, pride in their country and decent values.
We need them now more than ever.
Thank God for Old Farts!
Thank God for church ladies with typewriters. These sentences (with all the BLOOPERS) actually appeared in in church bulletins or were announced in church services:
The Fasting and Prayer Conference includes meals.
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The sermon this morning: ‘Jesus Walks on the Water.’ The sermon tonight: ‘Searching for Jesus.’
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Ladies, don’t forget the rummage sale. It’s a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.
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Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say ‘Hell’ to someone who doesn’t care much about you.
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Don’t let worry kill you off – let the Church help.
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Miss Charlene Mason sang ‘I will not pass this way again,’ giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.
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For those of you who have children and don’t know it, we have a nursery downstairs.
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Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.
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Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.
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A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow.
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At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be ‘What Is Hell?’ Come early and listen to our choir practice .
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Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.
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Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.
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Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.
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The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainment and gracious hostility.
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Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM – prayer and medication to follow.
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The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.
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This evening at 7 PM there will be a hymn singing in the park across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.
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Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10 AM. All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B. S. Is done.
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The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the Congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday.
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Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
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The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare’s Hamlet in the Church basement Friday at 7 PM. The congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.
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Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.
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The Associate Minister unveiled the church’s new campaign slogan last Sunday: ‘I Upped My Pledge – Up Yours.’
“Excuse me, Sir.”
“Is that you again, Moses?”
“I’m afraid it is, Sir.”
“What is it this time, Moses; more computer problems?”
“I don’t have to guess, Moses. Remember ?”
“Tell me what you want, Moses.”
“But you already know, Sir. Remember?”
“Moses!”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“Well, go ahead, Moses; spit it out.”
“You mean the Ten Commandments, Moses?”
“That’s it. I was wondering if they are important.”
“What do you mean ‘if they are important,’ Moses? Of course, they are important. Otherwise, I would not have sent them to you.”
“Well, sorry, Sir, but I lost them. I could say the dog ate them; but, of course, you would see right through that.”
“What do you mean you ‘lost them’? Are you trying to tell me you didn’t save them, Moses?”
“No, Sir; I forgot.”
“You should always save, Moses.”
“Yes, I know. You told me that before. I was going to save them, but I forgot. I did forward them to some people before I lost them though.”
“And did you hear back from any of them?”
“Yes, Moses, as long as he does not change the meaning.”
“And what about the guy who thought your stance was a little harsh, and recommended calling them the ‘Ten Suggestions,’ or letting people pick one or two to try for a while?”
“Moses, I will act as if I did not hear that.”
“I think that means ‘no.’ Well, what about the guy who said I was scamming him?”
“I think the term is ‘spamming,’ Moses.”
“Oh, yes. I. emailed him back and told him I don’t even eat that stuff, and I have no idea how you can send it to someone through a computer.”
“And what did he say?”
“You know what he said. He used Your name in vain. You don’t think he might have sent me one of those — err — plagues, and that’s the reason I lost those ten ‘things’, do you?”
“They are not plagues; they are called ‘viruses,’ Moses.”
“Whatever! This computer stuff is just too much for me. Can we go back to those stone tablets? It was hard on my back taking them out and reading them each day, but at least I never lost them.”
“We will do it the new way, Moses; using computers!!”
“I was afraid you would say that, Sir.”
“Moses, what did I tell you to do if you messed up?”
“It’s a mouse, Moses, not a rat. Mouse! Mouse! And did you do that?”
“No, I decided to try calling technical support first. After all, who knows more about this stuff than you? And I really like your hours. By the way, Sir, did Noah have two of these mice on the ark?”
“No, Moses.”
“One other thing. Why did you not name them ‘frogs’ instead of ‘mice,’ because did you not tell me the thing they sit on is a pad?”
“I did not name them, Moses. Man did, and you can call yours a frog if you want to.”
“Oh, that explains it. I bet some woman told Adam to call it a mouse. After all, was it not a woman who named one of the computers ‘Apple?'”
“Say good night, Moses.”
“Wait a minute, Sir. I am pointing the mouse, and it seems to be working. Yes, a couple of the ten ‘things’ have come back.”
“Which ones are they, Moses?”
‘Thou shalt not steal from any grave an image’ and ‘Thou shalt not uncover Thy neighbor’s wife.'”
“Turn the computer off, Moses. I’m sending you another set of stone tablets.”
Dear Joe,
Grandma is eighty-eight years old and still drives her own car. She writes:
Dear Grand-daughter,
The other day I went up to our local Christian book store and saw a ‘Honk if you love Jesus’ bumper sticker.
I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling choir performance, followed by a thunderous prayer meeting..
So, I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper.
Boy, am I glad I did; what an uplifting experience that followed.
I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good he is, and I didn’t notice that the light had changed.
It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus because if he hadn’t honked, I’d never have noticed.
I found that lots of people love Jesus!
While I was sitting there, the guy behind started honking like crazy, and then he leaned out of his window and screamed, ‘For the love of God!’
‘Go! Go! Go! Jesus Christ, GO!’
What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus!
Everyone started honking!
I just leaned out my window and started waving and smiling at all those loving people.
I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love!
There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach..
I saw another guy waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air.
I asked my young teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant.
He said it was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something.
Well, I have never met anyone from Hawaii , so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign right back.
My grandson burst out laughing.
Why even he was enjoying this religious experience!!
A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me.
I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed.
So, grinning, I waved at all my brothers and sisters, and drove on through the intersection.
I noticed that I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again and felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared.
So I slowed the car down, leaned out the window and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away. Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!!
Will write again soon,
Love, Grandma
When I bought my Blackberry I thought about the 30-year business I ran with 1800 employees, all without a cell phone that plays music, takes videos, pictures and communicates with Facebook and Twitter. I signed up under duress for Twitter and Facebook, so my seven kids, their spouses, 13 grandkids and 2 great grand kids could communicate with me in the modern way. I figured I could handle something as simple as Twitter with only 140 characters of space.
That was before one of my grandkids hooked me up for Tweeter, Tweetree, Twhirl, Twitterfon, Tweetie and Twittererific Tweetdeck, Twitpix and something that sends every message to my cell phone and every other program within the texting world.
My phone was beeping every three minutes with the details of everything except the bowel movements of the entire next generation. I am not ready to live like this. I keep my cell phone in the garage in my golf bag.
The kids bought me a GPS for my last birthday because they say I get lost every now and then going over to the grocery store or library. I keep that in a box under my tool bench with the Blue tooth [it’s red] phone I am supposed to use when I drive. I wore it once and was standing in line at Barnes and Noble talking to my wife and everyone in the nearest 50 yards was glaring at me. I had to take my hearing aid out to use it, and I got a little loud.
I mean the GPS looked pretty smart on my dash board, but the lady inside that gadget was the most annoying, rudest person I had run into in a long time. Every 10 minutes, she would sarcastically say, “Re-calc-u-lating.” You would think that she could be nicer. It was like she could barely tolerate me. She would let go with a deep sigh and then tell me to make a U-turn at the next light. Then if I made a right turn instead. Well, it was not a good relationship.
When I get really lost now, I call my wife and tell her the name of the cross streets and while she is starting to develop the same tone as Gypsy, the GPS lady, at least she loves me.
To be perfectly frank, I am still trying to learn how to use the cordless phones in our house. We have had them for 4 years, but I still haven’t figured out how I can lose three phones all at once and have run around digging under chair cushions and checking bathrooms and the dirty laundry baskets when the phone rings.
The world is just getting too complex for me. They even mess me up every time I go to the grocery store. You would think they could settle on something themselves but this sudden “Paper or Plastic?” every time I check out just knocks me for a loop. I bought some of those cloth reusable bags to avoid looking confused, but I never remember to take them in with me.
Now I toss it back to them. When they ask me, “Paper or Plastic?” I just say, “Doesn’t matter to me. I am bi-sacksual.” Then it’s their turn to stare at me with a blank look. I was recently asked if I tweet. I answered, No, but I do toot a lot.”
P.S. I know some of you are not over 50 .
Dear Sir:
I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored to pay my plumber last month.
By my calculations, three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honor it…
I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire pension, an arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years.
You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank.
My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways.
I noticed that whereas I personally answer your telephone calls and letters, — when I try to contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become.
From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person.
My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore, hereafter, no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate.
Be aware that it is an OFFENSE under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an envelope.
Please find attached an Application Contact which I require your chosen employee to complete.
I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative.
Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof.
In due course, at MY convenience, I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me.
I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on your phone bank service.
As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Let me level the playing field even further.
When you call me, press buttons as follows:
IMMEDIATELY AFTER DIALING, PRESS THE STAR (*) BUTTON FOR ENGLISH
#1. To make an appointment to see me.
#2. To query a missing payment.
#3. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
#4. To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
#5. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
#6. To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
#7. To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is required. – A password will be communicated to that Authorized Contact mentioned earlier.
#8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
#9. To make a general complaint or inquiry. – The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service.
#10. This is a second reminder to press* for English. – While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration of the call.
Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement.
May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous New Year?
Your Humble Client
And remember: Don’t make old People mad. We don’t like being old in the first place, so it doesn’t take much to piss us off.