Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three

I was married to a widow, who was as pretty as can be.

This widow had a grown-up daughter, a girl with hair of red.

My father fell in love with her, and soon the two were wed.

This made my Dad my son-in-law, and changed my married life,

For my daughter was my mother now, ’cause she was my Father’s wife.

To complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy,

I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad,

And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad…

For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother

To the widow’s grown-up daughter, who of course was my stepmother.

My father’s wife then had a son that kept him on the run,

And he became my grandchild, ’cause he was my daughter’s son.

My wife is now my mother’s mother, and it makes me blue

Because, although she is my wife, she is my grandmother too.

If my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild

And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild —

This has got to be the strangest thing that I ever saw:

As husband of my grandmother, I am my own Grandpa!

In this life I’m a woman. In my next life I’d like to come back as a bear. When you’re a bear you get to hibernate. You do nothing but sleep for six months. I could deal with that.

Before you hibernate you’re supposed to eat yourself stupid. I could deal with that too.

When you’re a girl bear, you birth your children (who are the size of walnuts) while you’re sleeping and wake to partially grown, cute, cuddly cubs. I could definitely deal with that.

If you’re a mama bear everyone knows you mean business. You swat anyone who bothers your cubs. If your cubs get out of line, you swat them too. I could deal with that.

If you’re a bear your mate EXPECTS you to wake up growling. He EXPECTS that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.

Yep — gonna be a bear!

Let’s face it.

English is a strange language.

There is no egg in the eggplant,

No ham in the hamburger,

And neither pine nor apple in the pineapple.

English muffins were not invented in England.

French fries were not invented in France.

We sometimes take English for granted,

But if we examine its paradoxes we find that

Quicksand takes you down slowly,

Boxing rings are square,

And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

If writers write, how come fingers don’t fing.

If the plural of tooth is teeth,

Shouldn’t the plural of phone booth be phone beeth?

If the teacher taught,

Why didn’t the preacher praught.

If a vegetarian eats vegetables,

What the heck does a humanitarian eat!?

Why do people recite at a play,

Yet play at a recital?

Park on driveways and

Drive on parkways?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy

Of a language where a house can burn up as

It burns down,

And in which you fill in a form

By filling it out,

And a bell is only heard once it goes!

English was invented by people, not computers,

And it reflects the creativity of the human race

(Which of course isn’t a race at all).

That is why

When the stars are out they are visible,

But when the lights are out they are invisible.

And why it is that when I wind up my watch

It starts,

But when I wind up this poem

It ends.

A young man who was a keen but amateurish guitarist wanted to help serve his church — so he offered to lead the worship.

Afterwards, one of the elders came up to him and thanked him for his efforts. He also stated that he was pleased to see that the young man was fulfilling a scriptural injunction.

“What’s that?” the young man asked, ” ‘Make a joyful noise to the Lord’?”

“No,” said the elder, ” ‘Let not your right hand know what your left hand is doing.’ “

Please accept, with no obligation, implied or implicit, our best wishes for an environmentally-conscious, socially-responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice period, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious and secular persuasions and traditions of others, and with further respect for the choice of others, if so they choose, not to practice any religious or secular tradition whatsoever.

Furthermore, please accept our hope for a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the imminent onset of the generally accepted renewal of the calendar year, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures — whose contributions to society have helped make America great. (This must not be taken to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country, nor that it is the only “America” in the Western Hemisphere.) Finally, such hope is offered without regard to the race, creed, color, age, country of origin, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform, or sexual preference of the wished.

By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms.

This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher actually to implement any of the wishes for himself or herself or others; is void where prohibited by law; and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.

This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year, or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wishee.

The folly of trying to interpret spiritual realities with the carnal mind is illustrated by a story that is told about a debate between the Pope and a rabbi. According to the story, in the Middle Ages, the Pope decided that all the Jews had to leave the city of Rome. Naturally, there was a big uproar from the Jewish community. So the Pope made a deal. He would have a theological debate with any person selected by the Jewish community. If their representative won, the Jews could stay. If the Pope won, the Jews would have to leave Rome forever.

The Jews realized they had no choice. They looked around for a learned champion who could defend their faith, but no one was willing to volunteer. No one felt that he could equal the Pope’s vast knowledge and overwhelming eloquence. Finally they picked a man to represent them — an old rabbi named Moshe who was well past his prime and now spent his time sweeping the synagogue. Being old and slightly addled, he thought he had less to lose, and so he agreed. He asked only for one condition for the debate. Not being an eloquent man like the Pope, and not being proficient in Latin, he asked that neither side be allowed to talk. The Pope agreed.

The day of the great debate came. Moshe and the Pope sat opposite each other for a full minute without making a move. Then the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers. Moshe looked back at him sadly, shook his head, and raised one finger. The Pope waved his arms in a circle around his head. Moshe pointed to the ground where he sat. Then the Pope pulled out a wafer and a glass of wine. Moshe brought out an apple.

The Pope stood up and said, “I give up. This man is too good. The Jews can stay.” An hour later, the cardinals gathered around the Pope to find out what happened. The Pope said, “I’ve never met a man with such keen spiritual and theological insight. No matter what I said, he had an answer that reminded me of how little I really know. First I held up three fingers to assert that God was to be found through the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that, even though He has manifested Himself in many ways, there is still only one God, and we both know His name. Then I waved my arms around me to show him that the greatness of God is written in the heavens. He responded by pointing to the ground, reminding me that God is in the midst of us through the presence of His Spirit. I pulled out the sacramental wine and wafer to show him that God’s Son absolves us from our sins. But he pulled out an apple to remind me that God has been dealing with sin as far back as the garden of Eden. He had an answer for everything! I cannot ask people with such deeply spiritual leadership to leave Rome. They can stay!”

Meanwhile, the Jewish community had crowded around Moshe, amazed that this old, almost feeble-minded man had done what all their young, eloquent scholars had insisted was impossible! “What happened?” they asked. “Well,” said Moshe, “first he said to me that the Jews had three days to get out of town. I told him that not one of us was leaving. Then he told me that this whole city would be cleared of Jews. I let him know that we were staying right here.” “And then?” asked a woman. “I don’t know,” said Moshe. “He took out his lunch and I took out mine, and it was all over.”

Dogs spend all day sprawled on the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house.

They can hear a package of food opening half a block away, but don’t hear you when you’re in the same room.

They can look dumb and lovable all at the same time.

They growl when they are not happy.

When you want to play, they want to play.

When you want to be alone, they want to play.

They leave their toys everywhere.

They do disgusting things with their mouths and then try to give you a kiss.

Conclusion: Dogs are tiny men in little fur coats!

Cats do what they want.

They rarely listen to you.

They’re totally unpredictable.

When you want to play, they want to be alone.

When you want to be alone, they want to play.

They expect you to cater to their every whim.

They’re moody.

They leave hair everywhere.

Conclusion: Cats are tiny women in little fur coats.

One of the most famous baseball comedy acts to ever take place was the following humorous exchange between Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. The words alone cannot do it justice, but it is still quite funny to read. The skit was originally done on the radio live (each and every time) until the legendary duo later included it in a movie.

The general premise behind the exchange has Costello, a peanut vendor named Sebastion Dinwiddle, talking to Abbott who is Dexter Broadhurt, the manager of the mythical St. Louis Wolves. However, before Costello can get behind the plate, Abbott wants to make sure he knows everyone’s name on the team…

A Word-for-Word Transcript

Abbott:	All right, now whaddya want?
Costello:	Now look, I’m the head of the sports department. I gotta know the baseball players’ names. Do you know the guys’ names?
Abbott:	Oh sure.
Costello:	So you go ahead and tell me some of their names.
Abbott:	Well, I’ll introduce you to the boys. You know sometimes nowadays they give ballplayers peculiar names.
Costello:	You mean funny names.
Abbott:	Nicknames, pet names, like Dizzy Dean —
Costello:	His brother Daffy —
Abbott:	Daffy Dean —
Costello:	And their French cousin!
Abbott:	Who’s that?
Costello:	Goo-fay Dean!
Abbott:	Goofay, huh? Now let’s see. We have on the bags — we have: Who’s on first, What’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third.
Costello:	That’s what I wanna find out.
Abbott:	I say: Who’s on first, What’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third —
Costello:	You know the fellows’ names?
Abbott:	Certainly!
Costello:	Well then who’s on first?
Abbott:	Yes!
Costello:	I mean the fellow’s name!
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The guy on first!
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The first baseman!
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The guy playing first!
Abbott:	Who is on first!
Costello:	Now whaddya askin’ me for?
Abbott:	I’m telling you Who is on first.
Costello:	Well, I’m asking YOU who’s on first!
Abbott:	That’s the man’s name.
Costello:	That’s who’s name?
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Well go ahead and tell me.
Abbott:	Who.
Costello:	The guy on first.
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The first baseman.
Abbott:	Who is on first!
Costello:	Have you got a contract with the first baseman?
Abbott:	Absolutely.
Costello:	Who signs the contract?
Abbott:	Well, naturally!
Costello:	When you pay off the first baseman every month, who gets the money?
Abbott:	Every dollar. Why not? The man’s entitled to it.
Costello:	Who is?
Abbott:	Yes. Sometimes his wife comes down and collects it.
Costello:	Who’s wife?
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	All I’m tryin’ to find out is what’s the guy’s name on first base.
Abbott:	Oh, no — wait a minute, don’t switch ’em around. What is on second base.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who is on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott:	He’s on third — now we’re not talkin’ ’bout him.
Costello:	Now, how did I get on third base?
Abbott:	You mentioned his name!
Costello:	If I mentioned the third baseman’s name, who did I say is playing third?
Abbott:	No — Who’s playing first.
Costello:	Never mind first — I wanna know what’s the guy’s name on third.
Abbott:	No — What’s on second.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who’s on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott:	He’s on third.
Costello:	Aaah! Would you please stay on third base and don’t go off it?
Abbott:	What was it you wanted?
Costello:	Now who’s playin’ third base?
Abbott:	Now why do you insist on putting Who on third base?
Costello:	Why? Who am I putting over there?
Abbott:	Yes. But we don’t want him there.
Costello:	What’s the guy’s name on third base?
Abbott:	What belongs on second.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who’s on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott & Costello:	THIRD BASE!
Costello:	You got an outfield?
Abbott:	Oh yes!
Costello:	The left fielder’s name?
Abbott:	Why.
Costello:	I don’t know, I just thought I’d ask you.
Abbott:	Well, I just thought I’d tell you.
Costello:	All right, then tell me who’s playin’ left field.
Abbott:	Who is playing first…
Costello:	STAY OUTTA THE INFIELD! I wanna know what’s the left fielder’s name.
Abbott:	What’s on second.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who’s on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott & Costello:	THIRD BASE!
Costello:	Tell me the left fielder’s name.
Abbott:	Why.
Costello:	Because!
Abbott:	Oh, he’s center field.
Costello:	Look, you got a pitcher on this team?
Abbott:	Now wouldn’t this be a fine team without a pitcher.
Costello:	Tell me the pitcher’s name.
Abbott:	Tomorrow.
Costello:	You don’t wanna tell me today?
Abbott:	I’m tellin’ you now.
Costello:	Then go ahead.
Abbott:	Tomorrow.
Costello:	What time?
Abbott:	What time what?
Costello:	What time tomorrow are you going to tell me who’s pitching?
Abbott:	Now listen. Who is not pitching. Who is on first…
Costello:	I’ll break your arm if you say who’s on first. I wanna know what’s the pitcher’s name.
Abbott:	What’s on second.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott & Costello:	THIRD BASE!
Costello:	You got a catcher?
Abbott:	Oh, absolutely.
Costello:	Tell me the catcher’s name.
Abbott:	Today.
Costello:	Today. And Tomorrow’s pitching.
Abbott:	Now you’ve got it.
Costello:	All we’ve got is a couple of days on the team.
Abbott:	Well, I can’t help that.
Costello:	Well, I’m a catcher too.
Abbott:	I know that.
Costello:	Now suppose that I’m catching, Tomorrow’s pitching on my team and their heavy hitter gets up.
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Tomorrow throws the ball. The batter bunts the ball. When he bunts the ball, me being a good catcher, I wanna throw the guy out at first base. So I pick up the ball and throw it to who?
Abbott:	Now that’s the first thing you’ve said right.
Costello:	I don’t even know what I’m talkin’ about!
Abbott:	Well, that’s all you have to do.
Costello:	Is to throw the ball to first base?
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Now who’s got it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	If I throw the ball to first base, somebody’s gotta catch it. Now who caught it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	Who caught it?
Abbott:	Naturally.
Costello:	Who?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	Naturally.
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott:	NO, NO, NO! You throw the ball to first base and who gets it?
Costello:	Naturally.
Abbott:	That’s right. There we go.
Costello:	So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott:	You don’t!
Costello:	I throw it to who?
Abbott:	Naturally.
Costello:	THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING!
Abbott:	You’re not saying it that way.
Costello:	I said I throw the ball to Naturally.
Abbott:	You don’t — you throw the ball to Who?
Costello:	Naturally!
Abbott:	Well, say that!
Costello:	THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING! I throw the ball to who?
Abbott:	Naturally.
Costello:	Ask me.
Abbott:	You throw the ball to Who?
Costello:	Naturally.
Abbott:	That’s it.
Costello:	SAME AS YOU!! I throw the ball to first base and who gets it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	Who has it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	HE BETTER HAVE IT! I throw the ball to first base. Whoever it is grabs the ball, so the guy runs to second. Who picks up the ball and throws it to What, What throws it to I Don’t Know, I Don’t Know throws it back to Tomorrow — triple play.
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Another guy gets up — it’s a long fly ball to Because. Why? I don’t know. He’s on third and I don’t give a darn!
Abbott:	What was that?
Costello:	I said I don’t give a darn!
Abbott:	Oh, that’s our shortstop.

Dear Ma and Pa,

Am well. Hope you are. Tell brother Walt and brother Elmer the US ARMY beats working for old man Mullins by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled.

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt & Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.

Men got to shave but it is not so bad, they get warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc… but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, grits, greens and fatback, okra, pie, and other regular food. But tell Walt & Elmer you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again.

It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much. We go on “route marches”, which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it ain’t my place to tell him different. A “route march” is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.

The country is nice, but awful flat. The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags some. The captain Is like the school board. Majors & colonels just ride around & frown. They don’t bother you none.

This next will kill Walt & Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk and don’t move. And it ain’t shooting back at you, like the Higgins boys at home. All you got to do is lay there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.

Be sure to tell Walt & Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get into this setup & come stampeding in.

Your loving daughter,

Gail