There were only two cars at the end of my exit ramp, but no one was moving. Clearly the first driver was too timid to blend into the flow of traffic. Opportunity after opportunity passed her by, and cars piled up on the ramp. Finally, the driver moved, spurred by an exasperated motorist at the end of the line, who yelled, "The sign says yield, not surrender!"
A Unique Home
I took a real estate client to a handyman special. The place was great, and we couldn't understand why it was so cheap, until we turned on the water main and water gushed from the ceiling. Dripping wet, my client put a positive spin on the showing: "Nice house," he said. "It's even self-cleaning."
I was reading to my wife a newspaper report of the speech in which FCC chairman Newton N. Minow called television "a vast wasteland."
If you watch your TV set constantly, Minow had said, "you will see a procession of game shows, audience-participation shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, mayhem, violence, sadism …"
My 12-year-old son, hearing part of the quotation, interrupted excitedly, "What time does that show go on, Dad?"
Taking advantage of a balmy day in New York, my brother and three other priests swapped their clerical garb for polos and khakis and time on the golf course. After several horrible shots, their caddy asked, "Are you guys priests?"
"Actually, yes," one cleric replied. "Why?"
"Because," said the caddy, "I've never seen such bad golf and such clean language."
My husband and I are both in an Internet business, but he's the one who truly lives, eats and breathes computers. I finally realized how bad it had gotten when I was scratching his back one day. "No, not there," he directed. "Scroll down."
The contest was simple: Which department in the hospital where I worked as a nurse could create the best Christmas decorations? While they didn't win first prize, the members of the proctology department did receive high honors with their distinctive sign, "Christmas is a good time to look up old friends."
Losing the Game
Driving home dejected from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, after a Mississippi-Louisiana State college football game that Ole Miss had lost 24-0, I was ignoring the speed limit and, sure enough, a Louisiana patrolman flagged me down. "You've got me, Officer," I confessed as I handed him my license. "I was speeding."
The officer confirmed that I was clocked at 72 m.p.h. But as he spoke, I noticed him stealing a peek at my game program and a pair of binoculars on the passenger seat. "Were you down for the big game?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," I replied. The officer then paused for what seemed like an eternity.
"Well," he said finally, "I guess you've suffered enough."
I couldn't believe my good fortune. But as my license was handed back to me, I felt compelled to ask a question. "Officer," I said, "what if Ole Miss had won?"
"I'd have locked you up in a heartbeat," came his reply. "Now keep it under 60!"
I am a prosecuting attorney in a small Mississippi town and will admit to having a few extra pounds on me. Not long ago, I was questioning a witness in an armed robbery case. I asked, "Would you describe the person you saw?"
The witness replied, "He was kind of short and stout."
"You mean short and stout like me?" I asked.
"Oh, no," the witness said. "He wasn't that fat."