Soooo you need a laugh!!!

I get a lot of jokes, and I love ‘em. I am a person who loves to laugh. It might have something to do with my hearing. who knows”

(I even laugh when she tried to get me in bed!)

 

(I can  laugh washing dishes in a creek)

I know you have always wondered what Darla from http://darsstuffings.blogspot.com/ , looks like!

I even laughed after a big kiss from Darla!

Shucks, I  laughed wearing Slims Hat in front of Sam’s Bear, at Mel’s house.

http://upnorthwithmel.blogspot.com/

But you must get serious and read about the day Mary from  http://stalledat12.blogspot.com/  had, here it is:

After a very busy, tiring day at the office, Mary settled down in her seat and closed her eyes as the train departed the station. As the train rolled out of the station, the guy sitting next to her pulled out his cell phone and started talking in a loud voice:
"Hi sweetheart, it's Eric, I'm on the train - yes, I know it's the six thirty and not the four thirty, but I had a long meeting - no, honey, not
with that floozy from the accounts office, with the boss. No sweetheart, you're the only one in my life - yes, I'm sure, cross my heart," etc., etc.
Fifteen minutes later, he was still talking loudly, when the woman sitting next to him, who was obviously annoyed by his continuous loud blabbing, about died laughing when Mary yelled
"Hey, Eric, turn that stupid phone off, and come back to bed!"
I heard that Eric doesn't use his cell phone in public any longer. You go Mary!

You had to at least grin, even if you have read it before.

Thanks for coming by the log.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Life is better when you smile, your health is better when you laugh!

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These vehicles will give you a smile.

 

The Cop, One of the Good Guys

I wanted to take time to say something good. I have poste a few bitching articles lately, but a story caught my attention.

I have always said there are good folk in this world, we meet them thruout the year.  I love a good story. Most of you guys know Woody who is a blogger as http://oldboomerwoodys.blogspot.com/

He is a retired policeman in New York. I try not to hold the NY against him (LOL). Woody was also a sailor in another life. Woody picks and sings in his SENIOR years, and entertains with a group some of the really old folk.  I thought of Woody when I read about Officer DePrimo, a young cop in NYC.

His picture was taken by a tourist, and posted on the net. DePrimo did not know it.  When asked about it he said:

"I had two pairs of wool winter socks and combat boots, and I was cold," DePrimo, 25, said Wednesday, recalling the night of Nov. 14, when he encountered an unidentified, shoeless man on the sidewalk on Seventh Avenue near 44th Street.

He walked a block to Sketchers, and with $75 of his own money bought socks and shoes for the man, then came back and put them on him.

Don’t you just love it.

So to the men like Officer DePrimo and our friend Woody. Our hat is off to you. God Bless you guys.

Thanks for coming by the log.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Being compassionate is a good thing.

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Sometimes cold, lonely and always potentially dangerous.

I believe this is a 1960’s Plymouth? But the blue must be a Kaiser!

I have lived in Florida, but I am really just visiting

The first time I drove to Key west Florida, I found out how long this state is. We were stationed in Albany, GA and sent to Key West. From Jennings, FL on I-75 to Key West, FL it is about 600 miles.  Florida is a very interesting and beautiful state. We have lived in Florida probably 6 yrs total in foundation houses. And 9 years as mobile residents.

Some beautiful beaches, great snorkeling and diving water. I used to think when I got to Miami, I would be at the end of Florida, huh uh! Then the Florida Keys start.  It is over 150 miles on down to the tip, or as my son Mark likes to say, Mile marker 1 of US1. Leave Miami and 42 bridges later you are in Key West. The longest bridge is just below Marathon Key and is 7 miles long.

(90 miles to Cuba from the Southernmost point of the USA)

The drive down the Keys is beautiful, or flying in is even more beautiful as you get to see the clear tropical waters surrounding the Keys, you can also see the Edge of the Coral reef where the water drops from 10-25 feet to 100-150 feet. I have seen days you could see the bottom as clear as a bell, and my fathometer reading 125’.

(Crowds at Mallory Square)

Fishing is great, people are clannish.  The folks who were born in Key West call themselves Conchs.  (Don & Evelyn’s son Doug, was born in Key West, He is a Conch)There is a pier area called Mallory Square. EVERY EVENING there is a party to see the sun go down. When it goes below the beautiful horizon, the crowd always clap and shout at the beauty they have just seen.

(The sunset over the Gulf, About to fall on Paula over there in Texas)

Lot of history in Key West. Hemmingway’s home. I cannot think of the name of the bar, but it is where Hemmingway and I think Jimmy Buffet hung out at. All the tourists that drink, must stop and have a beer there.  If they don’t drink they at least want a picture.(SLOPPY JOE’S)

(Of the Conch Train Goes by Sloppy Joe’s)

Truman’s winter White House is there. At the time it was on the Naval Base. Most of the Naval Base is gone now. Tourism is big. The Conch Train goes around the island (on rubber tires) to give the tourist a history tour.

There is a festive spirit year round in Key West.

Thanks for coming this way.

Nite Shipslog

PS: (Pictures from the internet)

I thought I would quit gripping for a night.

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(My Key West Prize, I bought this 1955 Chevy for $50 while there, Sherry & Mark on the trunk)

I was very disappointed

when I learned folks like Paula, John and their families had already tamed Texas, and my dreams of being a cowboy weren’t too good. Then I learned in school that the wagon trains did not leave from St. Joseph, Missouri any longer. And some other  folks had tamed that area. So being a Wagon Train Scout was out.

Rowdy Yates had become a police man and his favorite statement was, “Make my Day!”.

Yep, this kid was disappointed. I wanted to be a cowboy. Disillusioned I had to find something else to do. Then my brothers went to war. They were both sailors. Both returned, the family was happy, there was never a day like the one in 1945 when WWII ended. Men in uniform were looked up to.

AHHH, a new career, if I couldn’t be a Cowboy, maybe I should wear a uniform, I liked them.

The uniform is okay, but a boy never gets over wanting to be a cowboy. I learned late in life that there were thousands of cowboys in Florida, I never knew that.

Once around a campfire on the shores of Lake Okeechobee, I was enthralled by an old cowboy. We had all ordered Pizza, and were sitting around eating when the old guy began:

Just so you will know, this big hat keeps the Florida sun offen me and this vest protects from the limbs I fight getting  them stubborn cows out of the young live oaks. Everything has a purpose. We use whips instead of the lariat our brothers in Texas use. Not to sting the cows, but to scare them with the BANG of the snap. The chaps protect my legs from the palmettos.

There are a lotta folk that wonder about these tennis shoes I wear. .. he paused there……. then said: Well folks, that is so folks won’t thank I am a truck driver!  Everyone got a great laugh.

Old campers find their fun where they can. LOL

Thanks for coming by the log.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

If you cannot be yourself, you are in trouble. Everyone else is taken.

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1938 Buick coupe. A year before I was born.

Where are you, Jack?

Many games growing up entailed hiding. Usually it was a group hiding, and one hunting, we called ‘IT’ for some reason. We played hide and seek, where the person who was ‘IT’ would count to 50 or a 100 then start ‘hunting’. Kick the Can was about the same,  one of the group would kick a can, and ‘IT’ would have to run and get it bring it back while the others hid. Then whoever was IT, would start hunting.

As we grow up, the ‘heady’ students had a goal, and every so often they would take inventory and say, ‘Where am I now in relation to my goal?’ There were times in my life that I wish I had set a specific goal. But I could never hold one in sight long. My goals, if I had them were moving targets.

Now, much later in life, I am asking myself, where are you?  Where will you  be in 3, 6, or 10 years? Sherry and I walk and talk a lot. It helped when our boys were in their ‘wild’ stages. Walking and talking helped when we knew the other shoe was going to fall ‘anytime’.(Know the feeling?)

It was in that period we decided to ‘ENJOY’ the good times, because from experience, the good times would not last.

That philosophy has helped us along and over some pretty bad bumps.I was in my 30’s early 40’s before I started to take an inventory of my life. I did start setting goals. I listened to many ‘Earl Nightingale’ motivational tapes, they worked for me. Then I planned 15 to 20 years ahead.

In our last walk I was commenting on the number of ‘BIG’ RV,s in the park. I said to Sherry, ‘ we need to buy one of these biggies and a comfortable  ‘quiet’ car to tow, in a few years.  Smart aleck laughed, “In a few years we may not be here!”

Of course she is right, I will be 74 in January, we can no longer ‘LOGICALLY’ think in terms of 5,10-15 years of active life.

So, Where are you Jack?

I am about at the end of the race. Oh, I don’t feel like it, but I am smart enough to know that is a fact. I am not throwing in the towel yet, but I am not climbing the tree so high, that I cannot come back down and walk to the nursing home.

It is good we cannot see the future, it is better that we live one day at a time, and always, ‘ENJOY THE GOOD TIMES’.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

There are times when you need to laugh at yourself, Don’t take yourself seriously, no one else does.

My friend Al told his granddaughter, “When I get old you want have much time for me.”

He said she looked up at him and stuck a pin in his balloon when she said, “BUT GRANDPA, YOU ARE OLD.”

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A 50-60’s cool guys dream.  I looks like it was born a 1951 Merc.

Rationing

I worry about our country.  I write congressmen and Senators, even the President at times.  I have written every president in my adult life, at one time or the other. The only acknowledgement I received was from President Reagan who sent along a autographed picture.  Now I know  it was signed by machine. I also know he never read a thing I wrote, but someone did. I appreciated that.  I ran across the picture when I was going thru our storage stuff. The picture did hang in my office until I retired.

I hope someone can get the economy back on track. We do not need to trash the country because politicians cannot get along. We will be hurting some, no matter what is done, but we must get our finances in order. I cannot think in terms of Billions and trillions, but some men can. I hope they do not depend on someone as ignorant as I am to come up with solutions.

Those of us who were alive during WWII can remember the sacrifices our citizens made. At our house my mama learned to cook well without many staple ingredients.  I am sure millions of mamas did.  As children we never knew how tough it was. There was always something on the table. Biscuits and gravy were always there and I loved them. If you could afford sugar, flour, coffee etc., and did not have the stamps, you couldn’t buy it.

I have talked with folks over the years and they have had a misguided notion that Ration stamps were like food stamps, but NOT SO. The Rations stamp only permitted you to BUY a product, the product was definitely not given to you.

I was much older before I realized what ‘World at War’ meant. Every country was rationing. Even our enemies. I had a friend in a school where I was an instructor, Robert Gunther. His family farmed in Germany under the Nazi regime. There were demands on the farmer and he MUST produce. No spare parts for tractors and equipment, the instructions were: make it work or else. I learned that  like farmers in the USA they used leather for bearings in equipment because metal bearings were not available.

Can it get worse? Yes.  Will it get worse? Probably. Just ask someone who has lived like the government, spending more than they earned. Eventually the piper must be paid.

Another griping bitching entry, Sorry about that.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Life is good, this is a great country.  We WILL SURVIVE!

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The 1957 Chevy convertible.

Try to Imagine

Life in the USA in the 1930’s depression. My parents lived thru it with 3 children.  Families received little or no government assistance, unless you were fortunate to get on with the CCC or WPA which did not take affect until the mid 1930’s. These programs were sort of a work-fare situation where folks were paid to construct government projects, such as parks, dams, bridges, power plants and utilities installations (water/sewer lines in cities where they did not exist).

Dad told about driving a A-Model with tires so bad they used rags mud and weeds to keep them up because they would not hold air. He said they were fortunate to find any road kill because if a driver hit an animal and it was killed, the driver would stop and get it to cook and eat.

Men left their families, similar to the soldier , to find work at a CCC or WPA camp. There they were housed in barracks and fed in communal mess halls.

Those days will never happen again, because we as a nation have already given too much without any return to the able bodied citizens. It would be a great boon to our country if able bodied folk on government assistance would give a few hours a week back to the government. (NOTE: I SAID ABLE BODIED).

In the CCC.. The Youth’s pay of $30 a month, $25 went to their parents Implicitly, the CCC also led to a greater public awareness and appreciation of the outdoors and the nation's natural resources; and the continued need for a carefully planned, comprehensive national program for the protection and development of natural resources

During the time of the CCC, volunteers planted nearly 3 billion trees to help reforest America, constructed more than 800 parks nationwide and upgraded most state parks, updated forest fire fighting methods, and built a network of service buildings and public roadways in remote areas

Lots of jokes were told about WPA projects. I remember my daddy talking about a man complaining to the boss that he didn’t have a shovel to ‘lean on’.

The Blue ridge Parkway benefited from CCC/WPA work. According to a Robert Novak , the stone work was completed during the Great Depression under the Works Progress Administration (WPA). According to Wikipedia, WPA projects included the construction of 650,000 miles of roads, 78,000 bridges, 125,000 buildings, and 700 miles of airport runways, as well as other projects.

(Sign above illustrates a Gov’t Problem)

If someone had the ability to sell this type of project today, the country would benefit from some government money spent , instead of feeding it to Corporations that are to big to fail, or able bodied folk who want a handout.

Just my opinion.

Thanks for coming this way.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

To succeed, you must first want to.

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The Ford man’s dream garage

Charlie Ward

Charlie was different. Charlie always worked. He supported himself. His jobs were mostly minimum wage with no benefits, but a happier man you will never see.  I do not remember Charlie having an automobile, he walked where he went.

His last job was at the Dairy Queen. The fill in man or Go-fer. He cleaned tables, emptied trash and cleaned the floors.

Kept the cooks supplied from the freezer. When we went in he would always hug Sherry. Always waiting for me to yell. I never disappointed him. “All right Charlie, get your own girl!” He would burst out laughing.  In church it was the same.

He always took time to stop by our table to give us the latest on his family.  When we are in Belmont, we attended the same church. He had been sickly lately. Sherry always enjoyed giving him a present when he was in need.  We were blessed to know Charlie. He never had a bad word about anyone.

Shirl called Sherry a couple nights ago, Charlie was hit by a car as he was crossing a very busy street, one he had crossed hundreds of times.

He has a couple brothers and a sister. The brother from Georgia drove up to see Charlie in the hospital, he had a heart attack and died before he got to see Charlie. His other brother is a friend of mine, Jerry. Jerry was in the concrete business, he  poured and finished a lot of concrete for me. He has just found out that he has a tumor that is inoperable. All these guys are younger than I.

Shirl just e-mailed me awhile ago, Charlie did not make it. He passed last night. Shirl met Charlie, she would give him a ride home from Wal-Mart or the drug store, where ever they met.

The weight of the arrangements will be on his Sister I am sure. She has a heavy load.

There are folks you will will always remember. Do you recall Charlie Gordon in ‘Flowers for Algernon’? Our Charlie was not mentally challenged, but he was ‘cheerfully’ different.

We will miss him. The old adage, ‘Time goes on’ is so true.  You have probably known a Charlie. Someone who would not hurt a flea.

I will miss yelling so everyone in the store or church can hear, “Get you own girl Charlie!”

Rest in Peace my friend,

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Everyone leaves a something when they pass,  some leave much bigger tracks.

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On the road coming down to Florida…

My joy driving on our highways is seeing the classics. the green is a ‘46 ford chopped and channeled.

That ‘39-40 Ford is someone’s baby.

And a 1956 Ford tudor hardtop. I don’t know why, but I feel good when I see these.

Awkward Positions or Situations

We all have at times have found ourselves in awkward positions. Ripped trousers, broken zippers, popped buttons, bathroom faucets that splatter your clothes, but one of Paula’s friends in Texas had it worse:

An apparent Drunken Cowboy lay sprawled across three entire seats in a posh San Antonio theater.
When the Usher came by and noticed him, he whispered to the Cowboy,
"Sorry, Sir, but you're only allowed one seat."
The Cowboy just groaned but didn't even budge.
The Usher became more impatient and insistent: "Sir, if you don't get up from there I'm going to have to call the manager."
Once again, the cowboy just groaned. The Usher marched briskly back up the aisle, and in a moment he returned with the manager.
Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move the cowboy, but without success. He just laid there in a dazed stupor.
Finally they had enough and summoned the police.
A Texas Ranger arrived, surveyed the situation briefly, then asked, "Alright buddy what's your name?"
"Sam," the Cowboy moaned.
"Where ya from, Sam?" asked the Ranger.
With terrible pain in his voice, a grim expression and without moving a muscle, Sam said, "The Balcony."

I just had to do that. Shirl sent me that. 

Once I had an appointment with a doctor in Salisbury, NC. It is on I-85, 30 miles north of Charlotte. I like to arrive early, left the job and headed to Charlotte, in Charlotte I took I-77 going North.  When I arrived at Statesville, NC (30 miles north also), I knew the place did not look familiar, although the town started with an S.

I was early, I drove like mad across the country roads and arrived at Salisbury barely on time.  It could hurt to be on time in the wrong place.

As the cowboy above, sometime there is a perfectly good reason to be in the wrong place.

Thanks for coming by the log.

Nite Shipslog,

PS:

There is an old true adage:

When you  come to a fork in the road, take it!

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1928 Studebaker President

Righting and Writing

(First off, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!)

We all know the problems with the English language. I am not happy with the language, but it is the only one I know.  I wish I had had the foresight to study to be bi-lingual. Some of you know Robert, http://tagein-tagaus-athen.blogspot.com/  who has some great pictures of Athens, Greece, as well as a lot of common sense insights. Robert teaches English, speaks and writes in 5 languages. That is fascinating to me.

I have been fortunate to visit Athens twice and also to have a childhood friend who lives there. One day I would like to visit again, this time as a civilian with my lovely wife.

I am in the process of writing a romance novel.  I do not have the ability to use this confusing language well enough to express my thoughts. But I have always had story ‘ideas’.  For years I was a ‘story teller’. Telling a story is fun, doing that, you can use props, body language, facial expressions and a smile. BUT my WRITING, in the English language, requires someone else to make it RIGHT.  A proof reader plus insights.

I have been fortunate, Sherry knows the English language, and up until now, she has proofed the WRITING to make it RIGHT.

When I mentioned that many readers have asked for a romance novel, so my plans to write a senior romance novel, is finally happening ( at least 5 readers have asked). Then my lover informed me, “I am not proofing this one, I want to be a reader and read the book through without having repeatedly read it sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph.”

I mentioned it on this Blog, and I received a response from ‘B’, (she comments anonymously on the Shipslog), saying she would be glad to help. Fortunately I had read her on a forum I frequent. I agree with a lot of her style, stands, religious, political and personal.

'‘B’ warned me that at times she could be BRUTAL. (Also she would not proof a lewd book, shucks!) So far, she has been VERY insightful and even added evocative tones (something Sherry has always refused to do).

Anyway, I am enjoying reading ‘My Book’ as it returns, chapter by chapter or page by page.

I think the seniors will like the book. Sofia, sister to Aunt Agnes that just passed, is near 90. She smiled to hear about the new book. “I want to buy the first one,” she said.  Judy’s Mother up in Maine, tells Judy she wants everything I write. She also tells her how fortunate she is to know me. LOL. She is in her 90’s.  My very senior girl friends tell me to write fast because they don’t have that much longer. LOL.

Well if I can continue to WRITE, and ‘B’ can continue to make it ‘RIGHT’.  We will have a book in a few months.

Thanks for coming by the log, you help make my life RIGHT!

Nite Shipslog

PS:

People may never tell you that mistakes are your fault, but they don’t mind blaming you anyway!

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It is amazing to see how cars WERE delivered, Now I see 9-10 on one truck. The lower pic with the one over the cab, was a real innovation back then.

On the Road again

(Putting this on the night before, probably all snug in bed ‘cept you west coast kids!)

(We will see this Disney sign!)

We have been full time in our motor home for about 13 years. So this morning I expect this diesel engine to start just like it always has.  We should be on the road before anyone reads this.  Today we are only going about 300 miles,  I-95 to I-10 to US301 (speed trap lane) to I-75 down to Wildwood.

(I think I always think of Andy Griffin telling about the 10 cent orange juice)

We are very familiar with this route, it is a good trip. Lots of good scenery. Some of the tasks before we start is to determine where the best prices for Diesel will be. This time it is at the junction of 301 & I-10, $3.98 a gal for Diesel. This Diesel gets about 8 mpg and has a 100 gal tank.  Yeah, it hurts your feelings to fill it up. LOL. But we always try to make ourselves feel better remembering that is two vehicles, the Van is getting great mileage, over 300 miles per cup. LOL.

(Bill boards will announce the speed traps, this one at Waldo, We have never had a problem, but know those who have!)

When you figure we do not pay utilities, cut grass, rake leaves or shovel snow, the cost gets better. Our nightly stops average $2.10 a night, at our membership prices.  We pay no property taxes on this rig.  (Of course we do pay a bunch, on stuff owned back in NC).

Ahh but when you consider the money we are saving on those nerve pills…… LOL

This trip will take us by some beautiful horses in the horse  country around Ocala. Also while driving I am always looking for my ‘fix’ of old or classic cars.  I honestly do not know much about cars, like our friend ‘Louis’, at the Golden Gate.  But I do know the old ones click with my soul.

So I hope you have a great Wednesday, we will, as we travel down the roads of the Southeast.

Thanks for coming this way.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Things LOOK bigger using a magnifying glass, but they are not, using that logic, I think we sometimes put a mental magnifying glass on our troubles.

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Did I tell you we are the owners of a 1991 Z-28 Convertable.?

 

It is presently resting in Shirl’s basement safe from the cold winter.

It needs a lot of work, we will decide what to do with it in the spring. It comes from Mark’s family. I believe Corinne bought it for the kids because it was a classic. We would love to keep it for them, but……………  who knows?

Cracked Drupes

Getting older and learning something, I am not sure I like it, and I will probably ignore my latest education which is:

A pecan, like the fruit of all other members of the hickory genus, is not truly a nut, but is technically a drupe, a fruit with a single stone or pit, surrounded by a husk.

OOOKAAAAY!

Sherry has a cousin  in Sylvester, Georgia. Ralph works part time for a nut company, mostly pecans. (I wonder if Ralph knows the pecan isn’t a nut?) As most folks know, Georgia is the #1 producer of Pecans in the USA.

Before we left Ralph called Sherry and asked if she wanted him to bring some pecans to Belmont when he came up. Sherry bought 50 pounds of ‘cracked Pee-cans’.  We picked some out last night, she is picking some as I type. We love pecans.

My memories of Georgia Pecans comes from our stops at a chain of stores called, “STUCKEYS”.  When I was allowed, I would buy the ‘Pecan Log”. MMMMM I loved them.

One of my ‘Silly Moments’ is related to Georgia pecans. When I was an instructor at a school at Albany Naval Air Station, we had a pecan tree in our back yard. Being ignorant of Pecans, I ‘picked some’ and shelled them ‘green’. VERY FOOLISH. I had to teach for a week with stained hands. I soaked them in Clorox & washed them many times, but the stain (like very bad tobacco stains) remained until they wore off.  That is not ‘cool’ when you are wearing WHITES while teaching.LOL

One funny (to us) thing was when in Georgia, Sherry ordered a ‘Pecan (pe-chan) Cluster’ Blizzard @  Dairy Queen. The kid behind the counter said, “Do you mean PEE-CAN?” Sherry said, “Yes, that is it.”

I do ‘honestly’ love the accents from all over the country.

The Dairy Queen thing isn’t half as bad as the one in Indiana. Sherry wanted a Chocolate ice cream. The girl behind the counter says very seriously, “We have only vanilla, but really there is not difference in Chocolate and Vanilla except the color!” THAT GIRL SAID THAT TO A CHOCOHOLIC with a straight face, and lived.  LOL

Thanks for coming by the log.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Sometimes you feel like a nut!

Sometimes you feel like a drupe!

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A shiny Hudson Mid 30’s

the ‘37 concept Terreplane

We have all been silly at one time (or another)

The movie “A Boy with Green Hair”, came to Albemarle, NC in 1949-1950. The local ‘Show’ (not theater) advertised anyone with green hair got in free. My buddy Vondale and I bought a bottle of cake coloring for 25 cents, died our hair green and got in free. That way we didn’t have to pay the normal 9 cents for a ticket, total of 18 cents to get in. I have always been good at math!

However, I was a good con-man. Guy Abee and myself finally found a big truck innertube patched it and were headed for the service station to pump it up. I convinced Guy he should carry it  to the station (It was awkward & heavy) and then I would bring it back after we put 50 lbs of air in it, it would be heavy.  I rolled it back.

He got over it and we played dare devil in it. One of us would curl up inside it and the other would push it a down hill. You could not drive it, it went where it was aimed. Trees, cars or walls. We never got hurt, it was fun.

I mentioned once, Vondale had a horse, he came to visit me in Valdese and we were at Jim & Bub’s house to see Frank (their horse). Vondale said “Watch this,” and he stuck his hand in Frank’s mouth, “ Frank clamped down and Vondale yelled and pulled his fingers out of Franks mouth. “My horse don’t do that,” he yelled. I guess all horses are not the same.

Once a friend picked Sherry and I up at the Airport. He had a luggage rack on top, I threw our heavy suit case on top. ‘Better tie it down’, said Jim. I said, “No man that dude is heavy.”

Yeah, you guessed it clothes and uniforms up and down the road and a ruined suitcase. We all do silly stuff sometimes, Don’t we?

Thanks for coming by the log.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Mama taught me, Never count your chickens before they hatch; and ‘Better safe than sorry’. If you run counter to them,  you will learn, they are good policies.

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Suggestion: If you put a suitcase in the luggage rack, TIE IT DOWN! This is a 1959 Rambler cross country.