Upon hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Katie went straight to her grandparent's house to visit her 95 year-old grandmother and comfort her. When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, "He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning." Horrified, Katie told her grandmother that 2 people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble. "Oh no, my dear," replied granny. "Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the Ding and out on the Dong." She paused to wipe away a tear, and continued, "He'd still be alive if the ice cream truck hadn't come along."
I talked to a man today
I talked with a man today, an 80+ year old man. I asked him if there was anything I can get him while this Coronavirus scare was gripping America.
He simply smiled, looked away and said:
"Let me tell you what I need! I need to believe, at some point, this country my generation fought for... I need to believe this nation we handed safely to our children and their children...
I need to know this generation will quit being a bunch of sissies...that they respect what they've been given...that they've earned what others sacrificed for."
I wasn't sure where the conversation was going or if it was going anywhere at all. So, I sat there, quietly observing.
"You know, I was a little boy during WWII. Those were scary days. We didn't know if we were going to be speaking English, German or Japanese at the end of the war. There was no certainty, no guarantees like Americans enjoy today.
And no home went without sacrifice or loss. Every house, up and down every street, had someone in harm's way. Maybe their Daddy was a soldier, maybe their son was a sailor, maybe it was an uncle. Sometimes it was the whole damn family...fathers, sons, uncles...
Having someone, you love, sent off to war...it wasn't less frightening than it is today. It was scary as Hell. If anything, it was more frightening. We didn't have battle front news. We didn't have email or cellphones. You sent them away and you hoped...you prayed. You may not hear from them for months, if ever. Sometimes a mother was getting her son's letters the same day Dad was comforting her over their child's death.
And we sacrificed. You couldn't buy things. Everything was rationed. You were only allowed so much milk per month, only so much bread, toilet paper. EVERYTHING was restricted for the war effort. And what you weren't using, what you didn't need, things you threw away, they were saved and sorted for the war effort. My generation was the original recycling movement in America.
And we had viruses back then...serious viruses. Things like polio, measles, and such. It was nothing to walk to school and pass a house or two that was quarantined. We didn't shut down our schools. We didn't shut down our cities. We carried on, without masks, without hand sanitizer. And do you know what? We persevered. We overcame. We didn't attack our President, we came together. We rallied around the flag for the war. Thick or thin, we were in it to win. And we would lose more boys in an hour of combat than we lose in entire wars today."
He slowly looked away again. Maybe I saw a small tear in the corner of his eye. Then he continued:
"Today's kids don't know sacrifice. They think a sacrifice is not having coverage on their phone while they freely drive across the country. Today's kids are selfish and spoiled. In my generation, we looked out for our elders. We helped out with single moms who's husbands were either at war or dead from war. Today's kids rush the store, buying everything they can...no concern for anyone but themselves. It's shameful the way Americans behave these days. None of them deserve the sacrifices their granddads made.
So, no I don't need anything. I appreciate your offer but, I know I've been through worse things than this virus. But maybe I should be asking you, what can I do to help you? Do you have enough pop to get through this, enough steak? Will you be able to survive with 113 channels on your tv?"
I smiled, fighting back a tear of my own...now humbled by a man in his 80's. All I could do was thank him for the history lesson, leave my number for emergency and leave with my ego firmly tucked in my rear.
I talked to a man today. A real man. An American man from an era long gone and forgotten. We will never understand the sacrifices. We will never fully earn their sacrifices. But we should work harder to learn about them..learn from them...to respect them.
A little old lady was walking down the street dragging two large plastic garbage bags behind her. One of the bags was ripped and every once in awhile a $20 bill fell out onto the sidewalk.
Noticing this, a policeman stopped her, and said, "Ma'am, there are $20 bills falling out of that bag."
"Oh, really? Darn it!" said the little old lady. "I'd better go back and see if I can find them. Thanks for telling me, Officer."
"Well, now, not so fast," said the cop. " Where did you get all that money? You didn't steal it, did you?"
"Oh, no, no", said the old lady. "You see, my back yard is right next to a Golf course. A lot of Golfers come and pee through a knot hole in my fence, right into my flower garden. It used to really tick me off. Kills the flowers, you know. Then I thought, 'why not make the best of it?' So, now, I stand behind the fence by the knot hole, real quiet, with my hedge clippers. Every time some guy sticks his thing through my fence, I surprise him, grab hold of it and say, 'O.K., buddy! Give me $20 or off it comes!'
"Well, that seems only fair," said the cop, laughing ."OK. Good luck! Oh, by the way, what's in the other bag?"
"Not everybody pays."
The moral of the story? If you’re going to have a senior moment… make it memorable.
In a Chicago hospital, a gentleman had made several attempts to get into the men's restroom, but it had always been occupied. A nurse noticed his predicament.
Sir, she said "You may use the ladies room if you promise not to touch any of the buttons on the wall."
He did what he needed to, and as he sat there he noticed the buttons he had promised not to touch.
Each button was identified by letters: WW, WA, PP, and a red one labeled ATR.
Who would know if he touched them?
He couldn't resist.. He pushed WW. warm water was sprayed gently upon his bottom.
What a nice feeling, he thought. Men restrooms don't have nice things like this.
Anticipating greater pleasure, he pushed the WA button. Warm air replaced the warm water, gently drying his underside.
When this stopped, he pushed the PP button. A large powder puff caressed his bottom adding a fragile scent
of spring flower to this unbelievable pleasure.. The ladies restroom was more than a restroom, it is tender loving pleasure.
When the powder puff completed its pleasure, he couldn't wait to push the ATR button which he knew would be supreme ecstasy.
Next thing he knew he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed, and a nurse was staring down at him.
"What happened?" he exclaimed. The last thing I remember was pushing the ATR button.
"The button ATR is an Automatic Tampon Remover. Your penis is under your pillow."
"MEN NEVER LISTEN"