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Vol. IX, No. 37 September 13, 2003 IN THIS ISSUE:
 Margaret Manning continues the story of another of her best-ever trips, this one to THE U.S.A After the bedlam of the Houston highways, it was a pleasant surprise to find Sylvia's mother lived on a very quiet street. Her home was like something out of a Hollywood movie. She made me very welcome and had cooked a roast dinner. This 76-year-old lady got up at 4:30 the next morning to make us a fresh breakfast before we left for Hobby Airport. From there I flew to Milwaukee via St Louis. I had a little difficulty recognising my tape friend Mickey, who said he'd be wearing red. But he wasn't. He and Helen had a modest cottage in a quiet neighbourhood. We weren't there much. As soon as Helen returned from work we set off for their trailer, parked at Concord Lake. Everyone I met insisted on me inspecting their trailers. After a very social evening we met up next morning, took a walk round the lake and through the woods and gathered windfall apples. I even saw some polka dancing as part of the weekend entertainment. I was interested in the several rummage sales we attended. We visited Mickey and Helen's son and his family for supper. That was the first (and last) time I ate chili beef with jello. We went to Lake Michigan and drove past the mansions of the beer barons. They took me to a new shopping mall the next day and then I had to pack to catch the Greyhound bus to Estherville, which left at 11 p.m. Helen made me sandwiches and also provided fruit and soft drinks. I didn't sleep at all as a chatty young man sat beside me and we talked all night. So when I stepped off the bus at Estherville at noon I was pretty tired. Tape pal Becky met me there and immediately whisked me away to her home at Lake Park, Iowa, where she lived with her parents, daughter and younger sister. After saying hello to them, I was soon on the move again, this time to the Grotto of the Redemption at West Bend, 60 km. away. This was a very interesting place. I fell into bed at 8:30 p.m., having been awake since 6 a.m. the previous morning. Lake Park was (possibly still is) a small town with one main shopping street that included two grocery stores, one drug store, one cafe, one garage, and a lovely lake. Residents usually shopped at the large town of Spirit Lake. All of Becky's family were very involved with community affairs so they took me along to various events, such as a Girl Scouts' meeting, and a craft evening. I wrote an article about my travels for the Lake Park newspaper and Becky and I ended up with our photographs alongside my piece. Becky and her daughter took me to Okoboji, which is a tourist area of several lakes. We also travelled 320 km. (200 miles) to Chamberlain, South Dakota, to visit St Joseph's Indian School. I had sent items from N.Z. over several years to help various school projects so it was a bonus to see what was being done. On the return trip we were lucky enough to see a street fair in Mitchell. We also visited the Doll Museum. After the two Beckys returned from church the next morning, we headed off again, this time to Pipestone. This park was once a reservation area occupied by Sioux. We were up very early the next day to drive to Sioux City, where I got a flight to San Francisco. (To be continued.)
Terry Miller Shannon tells THE ANIMAL STORY I HATE TO TELL When I hear people talk about their affinity with animals, I try not to mention mine. The truth is, rodents appear to be magnetically attracted to me (I only trust it's not my cologne). One story I never bring up is what I've come to remember as The Underground Creature Incident. I worked evenings in the basement of an ancient building. On this afternoon, the day shift guy gave me the usual report and left. I settled in to do paperwork at the immense wooden desk. It was, as always in the bowels of the old building, very quiet. I sipped at an enormous Styrofoam cup of ice water and scribbled away. Scritchy-scratchy footsteps roused me from my paperwork trance. Now, it wasn't at all uncommon to see mice in our area. So without looking up or pausing my pen, I stamped my foot and said, "Get out of here!" Scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch, SCRITCH-SCRATCH. I looked up from my paperwork, and down toward the floor. Advancing as if he were there for an urgent appointment with my foot - and as if he were running late and in a ripping hurry - was a small animal. It wasn't a mouse, I realized, about the same moment I also knew that it would be sitting on my toe (or mountaineering up my leg?) very soon. I stamped, passionately. I said, "Whatever you are - scram! Vamoose! Take off!" As I stamped and exclaimed, the creature headed straight for me. He picked up speed. I yelled and pounded my foot onto the ground. He became a frenzied little furry blur arrowing at a bull's eye named Terry. I leapt onto my desk, sitting on top and drumming my heels enthusiastically on the drawers. The critter bumbled around under my feet for a few minutes. Then, he meandered off. About that time, I noticed I was sitting upon my flattened Styrofoam cup. The ice water soaked into my pants in a most unflattering and unrefreshing way. It didn't bode well for later dining in the cafeteria. But at least the creature was gone. I looked around furtively. Gone. He was gone. I squished back down into my chair and resumed the paperwork. Scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch, SCRITCH-- I stomped! I pounded! I hollered! The creature came at me like a super-hero to a needy victim. The louder I stomped, pounded and yelled, the faster he zoomed. Up on the desk, I eyed the furry invader as it wandered around, appearing to search for me. Disappointed, it wandered off. Time passed. "I can't sit up here all night," I said to myself. My heart galumphed as I inched down the desk, my eyes darting all over the office. I got into my chair. I picked up my pen. I pulled my paperwork toward me. Scritch-- I was up on the desk. "Okay," I said. "So I'll work up here. I'm flexible." But - well, not to whine about it - sitting cross-legged on the desk wasn't optimal for getting work done, especially since I was hyper-attuned to my surroundings. The shift supervisor stuck her head in the door. "Uh, Terry, you're sitting on your desk," she informed me. "Nadine! You've got to help me!" I told her about the mystery animal. I said, dramatically, "I am unable to work under these conditions!" I had a few bad moments. I feared she wouldn't believe me. Even if she did, how could she help? But I underestimated her. Within ten minutes, she'd caught the animal in a cardboard box. "Oh, look," she cooed. "A cute little gopher! They're blind, I think." "Cute? It kept running at me! The more I yelled, the more it would beeline for me!" "Vibrations," she said knowingly. "I'll go set him free in the field." When my relief came on, I said, "Joy, I didn't get as much work done as I thought I would. But you'll never believe what happened! I was working. I heard this sound...." "Scritch-scratch!" Joy looked around the floor. "The gopher?" "What?! How did you know? Don't worry. It's gone - Nadine took it outside." "Oh. Good. I spent last night standing on a chair. Eight hours on a chair! Didn't day shift tell you?" "No." "Well," she sighed. "You tell a story like this and people might not believe you. At the very least, they'll think you're exaggerating.... Or they might wonder why gophers like you that much." Joy and I looked at each other. I gave her the report. She got to work. I went home. ~~~ Terry and her son, Tim Warner, wrote a funny, rhyming picture book. Tim's three-year-old bath-loving son inspired TUB TOYS (Tricycle Press, 2002, second printing 2003). Children's Literature calls TUB TOYS "a must-have book for families" and MIDWEST BOOK REVIEW says it is: "...greatly recommended ... whimsical and fun." Check it out at http://snurl.com/tubtoys_amaz
Dennis Monbourquette comments on the BRAIN TEASER Actually, the brain teaser can't be solved as written. It said: "...Take the word STARLING, and drop one letter, so that you have created a new word. Then drop another letter, which makes another new word, then drop another, then another, and another, etc., until you have created nine new words in total." You can't make nine words total, let alone nine *new* words, by dropping one letter at a time from an eight-word letter. It's a conspiracy! =) -=oOo=- Bill Murphy makes the same observation: There does not seem to be a way to get nine with the total number of letters in the original.
STARLING ALTERNATIVE
Starling
Kate Brookfield sends this message that reinforces the ideas behind Heroic Stories: Kindness is found everywhere, some unexpected: THEY CALL THEM RETARDED... A few years ago, at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all physically or mentally disabled, assembled at the starting line for the 100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win. All, that is, except one little boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of times, and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. Then they all turned around and went back ... every one of them. One girl with Down's Syndrome bent down and kissed him and said, "This will make it better." Then all nine linked arms and walked together to the finish line. Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several minutes. People who were there are still telling the story. Why? Because deep down we know this one thing: what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What matters is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our course. PLUG: Subscriptions to HeroicStories are FREE. Just send a blank message to join-heroicstories@lyris.net or visit http://www.HeroicStories.com
Bruce Galway writes: The following is an ad from a real-life newspaper which appeared four days in a row - the last three hopelessly trying to correct the first day's mistake. FOR SALE: SEWING MACHINE MONDAY: For sale: R.D. Jones has one sewing machine for sale. Pbone 948-0707 after 7 P.M.. and ask for Mrs. Kelly who lives with him cheap. TUESDAY Notice: We regret having erred In R.D. Jones' ad yesterday. It should have read "One sewing machine for sale cheap. Phone 948-0707 and ask for Mrs. Kelly, who lives with him after 7 P.M." WEDNESDAY Notice: R.D. Jones has informed us that he has received several annoying telephone calls because of the error we made in the classified ad yesterday. The ad stands correct as follows: "For sale - R.D. Jones has one sewing machine for sale. Cheap. Phone 948-0707 after 7 P.M. and ask for Mrs. Kelly who loves with him." THURSDAY Notice: I, R.D. Jones, have no sewing machine for sale. I smashed it. Don't call 948-0707 as I have had the phone disconnected. I have not been carrying on with Mrs. Kelly. Until yesterday she was my housekeeper but she quit!
Tom Williamson forwards these THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO HMMMM... Can you cry under water? How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered? If money doesn't grow on trees, why do banks have branches? Since bread is square, why is sandwich meat round? Why do you have to "put your two cents in"...but it's only a "penny" for your thoughts"? Where's that extra penny going to? Once you're in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity? Why does a round pizza come in a square box? What did cured ham actually have? How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on luggage? Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up every two hours? If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing? If you drink Pepsi at work in the Coke factory, will they fire you? Why are you IN a movie, but your ON TV? Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground? Why do doctors leave the room while you change? They're going to see you naked anyway. If a 911 operator has a heart attack, whom does he/she call? and finally... Why is "bra" singular and "panties" plural?
From Marco and Kinga de Muinck comes this warning: BEWARE! (CNN) - Forget bad luck. Those annoying chain letters circulating the Internet could be cursing you with an inbox full of spam e-mail, computer experts warn. While not as efficient as "spiders" which automatically crawl the Web in search of addresses, computer experts warn that some spammers are using chain letters to collect e-mail usernames. "Chain letters are the ideal place to collect addresses. I've seen several hundred on one e-mail. The list went on for pages," said Bill Orvis, who maintains the U.S. Department of Energy's hoax advisory Web site. Organizations that help users and companies fight spam have begun to take notice. Orvis, for example, recently posted Web warnings for government employees and the public, pointing out the dangers of forwarding chain letters. So far, no spammers have been caught harvesting e-mail addresses from chain letters, but Orvis thinks it's just a matter of time. "Just by forwarding a message to a dozen friends, it only takes a few generations before you fill the network with messages," he said. Other spam experts, however, are skeptical about this tactic. Michael Herrick, whose Spamfire software helps individual users filter junk e-mail, doesn't think spammers are using chain letters in this way. Pam Small, spokesperson for the spam filtering company SurfControl, was also skeptical about the use of this tactic. "Yes, it can be done, and yes, it may be done by some of the less sophisticated spammers," she said. "But because spammers are dealing in high volumes and looking for valid e-mail addresses, there are quicker ways to gather them." Herrick, however, admits that the practice could be a good way to bypass e-mail filters which block messages from senders who are not known to the recipient. Spammers could use chain letters to discover the addresses of people with whom you frequently communicate. Spam purporting to be from someone in your address book would sneak by filters. "If I were a spammer, I'd be working very hard to perfect this technique," he said.
Keith Elliott sends this puzzler: THREE OLD LADIES AT THE BALL GAME This is a detective story, so pay close attention! Three elderly ladies are excited about seeing their first Twins baseball game. They smuggle a bottle of Jack Daniel's into the ball park. The game is real exciting and they are enjoying themselves immensely, mixing the Jack Daniel's with soft drinks. Soon they realize that the bottle is almost gone and the game has a lot of innings to go. Based on the given information, what inning is it and how many players are on base? Answer: It's the bottom of the fifth and the bags are loaded....
COFFEE, TEA, OR ME? A pompous preacher was seated next to a cowboy on a flight to South Dakota. After the plane was airborne, drink orders were taken. The cowboy asked for a whiskey and soda, which was brought and placed before him. The flight attendant then asked the preacher if he would also like a drink. He replied in disgust, "I'd rather be savagely raped by a brazen whore, than let liquor touch my lips." The cowboy handed his drink back to the flight attendant and said, "I didn't know we had a choice."
"The world has achieved brilliance without wisdom, power without conscience. Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical midgets. We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we know about living." - General Omar Bradley, WWII |