Saturday, September 2, 2017

What I Did During the Eclipse -- I Got Weighed

No matter what, people will find a way to amuse themselves.

I wasn't very hopeful about actually seeing the eclipse. Weather predictions were not too encouraging.

And I wanted to stay in Jefferson County, so I went to Nortonville, the northernmost town in the county. Because of a railroad line that no longer goes through the town, Nortonville streets run on diagonals. (Do people who grew up in such towns live all their adult lives with a skewed perception of geography?)

Although nothing official was planned, people began to gather at the little city park (about three acres in size, I should judge). I think there were even some family reunions, which included the driver of a commercial vehicle (I'll never tell what the logo was on the side of the truck, but obviously the driver was not at work). Rain fell intermittently, and even when it wasn't raining, clouds covered the sky.

The only establishment open was a farm supply business. The weather-worn sign on the Brass Lion said the doors would open at 4 PM. (What a money-making opportunity the lion-keeepers overlooked). Well, the bank was open, but it did not appear that the tellers were selling anything edible.

So I was sitting in my car, tending to my own knitting, when I became aware that the crowd noise which had come from the park shelterhouse to my south was now at the west behind me. The couple from the car next to me shifted their attention from gazing skyward at the clouds and slowly drifted westward.

As I got out of my car I could see people, from moms carrying newborns to older folks with canes, were clambering aboard a huge truck weighing platform. When I first looked, the glowing red neon sign read at something over 9,000 pounds. "Oh," I exclaimed, a couple more people get on it will go to over 10,000." Then I climbed aboard and the scales shot up to 13,034!

Short story -- we never saw the eclipse, but we had fun anyway. The City Clerk took a picture which was published next week in the county newspaper.

Monday, August 14, 2017

The Eclipse -- A Dim View

Someone I know is taking a dim view of the upcoming eclipse.

He thinks there is too much ado about nothing.

I haven't decided what I will do, but I will be back here later to edit.

Saturday, July 30, 2016

No Sense of Humor

That's me -- no sense of humor.

That's why it's so hard for me to come up with a joke. I'm working on a joke now.

It starts like this: Donald Trump, Conrad Black and Boris Johnson walk into a bar . . . .

If I were known for demonstrating a sense of humor, people would be laughing already. Just the very vision of those three doing anything together is so totally amusing, the joke is complete at this point.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Show Us the Socks, Please

In one of his news conferences before he resigned, John Boehner made an off-hand remark to a reporter.

"Why would you wear socks like that?"

His next remark was "I thought the circus was coming to town or something."

Apparently the reporter made some reply, because at this point Boehner refocused his attention on the reporter. "You better go check on the elephants." (A curious suggestion, since the elephant is the symbol of Boehner's political party.)

You can see this on YouTube, under a heading of something like: Boehner calls out a reporter over his dumb socks. (Next time I look at it I"ll bring the link back here.)

But, drat, at no time do we see the socks.

I'm willing to bet that the socks were very colorful, hand-knit for the reporter by an adoring wife or grandmother.

Show us the socks, please.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Joke No. 5

Dang me, I never posted Joke No. 5. It was something about naming the baby. Obviously, none of my jokes won anything, not even Bill Murray's attention.

Just checked out a new book from the library, about blogging, but it's like reading something in a foreign language. Maybe if I could get into the habit of blogging -- something -- every day, I wouldn't have to keep repeating the learning curve.

Friday, October 9, 2015


What was the first thing on the antennas' minds when they got back from the honeymoon?

What are the best atmospheric conditions for propagation?

Bill Murray, if you're having trouble understanding this joke, get in touch with me and we'll have lunch.

Thursday, October 8, 2015


Okay, so I’m talking to myself . . . since Bill Murray is the Honorary Advisor for Pontifical Comedy, he surely will be reading some of the jokes, maybe he will read mine, decide it’s a winner, and call me, and we’ll have lunch. You think so?

To borrow a line from all of the professional comedians who are trying to win a laugh from the pope: So here’s my joke:

Where did the two antennas go on their honeymoon?

They went on a DXpedition.

Does that one need a little explanation? Radio hams — who are the biggest users of antennas — are constantly searching for that elusive radio contact. A DXpedition is when a group of hams set up their antennas and radios in some really remote part of the world, and give their stay-at-home buddies a chance to add to their list of hard-to-reach (impossible) places. For example, Navassa Island, Banaba Island, St. Paul Island, north of Nova Scotia, Scarborough Reef . . .

My joke had all the amateur radio hams chortling.