We are Creatures of Habit

We are Creatures of Habit

A few years ago, I read about an employee who was “turned in” to management by his fellow workers for a despicable crime he had repeatedly committed. Did he beat up someone? Burn down the factory? Key the boss's car? (Only if it were a Tesla.) His crime was worse than any of these scenarios. This horrible person, this fiend, dared to eat his dessert before devouring the rest of his meal! Didn't his parents teach him right from wrong? It's a wonder the world did not come to an end!

Whether we admit it or not, most of us are creatures of habit. Repeatedly doing things the same way gives us the illusion that we can bring order and thus some control to this chaotic world.

Our minister alluded to the tendency of human beings to do things the same way even when long-held practices no longer make sense. A little girl watched as her mother chopped both ends off the meatloaf before putting it into a pan. “Why do you chop the ends off?” she asked. Mom replied: “That's the way your grandma taught me. You will have to ask her.” Grandma explained, “I have always done it that way because my mother did it.” While the little girl was visiting her great-grandmother, who was living in an assisted living unit, the elderly lady explained, “Your great-grandfather and I were poor. We had only one pan, but the meatloaf was too big for it.”

Speaking of the church, although there are no nameplates, each attendant has chosen their seat. Occasionally, the minister will ask us to move to new areas to meet and greet others. Grudgingly, we do so, but the next week we once again occupy our chosen spots.

I remember in school the teacher usually assigned seats, which was probably a good idea. Whenever the students could sit wherever they pleased, they tended to pick seats next to their buddies, which led to more talking and goofing off.

There were two old guys on an Andy Griffith program who were continuing a feud between their families that had gone on for several generations. When asked why the families were feuding, neither man knew. It was just something every generation did.

Unfortunately, the first house in which I lived had neither a shower nor a bathtub. (The toilet was located in a little building at the end of the property.) Every Saturday night, whether we were dirty or not, Mom heated water on the stove and then poured it into a large tub. As I remember, Dad, the king of the house, had the honor of bathing first, followed by Mom, my brother, the older of my two sisters, my younger sister, and finally, myself. After bathing in water that had been used five times previously, I was probably dirtier than I was before the bath!

Each of us had our own chair at the breakfast table. If you stood at the entrance separating the kitchen from the dining room, you would see Dad at the head of the table on the right, washing down his meal with a gigantic mug of coffee. Mom was directly across the table from him. On the far side of the table, next to Mom, was the older of my two sisters; next to her was my brother. On the other side, next to Mom, was my other sister. The last seat left belonged to yours truly. Maybe the world would not have come to an end if we had occasionally changed the seating plans, but why take a chance?

Until my brother was old enough to drive, the seating arrangements in the car were: Dad behind the wheel; Mom in the front passenger seat; yours truly between them; brother behind Dad; younger of two sisters in the middle; other sister behind Mom. When big brother drove, Dad took Mom's spot; Mom took brother's spot in the backseat.

My wonderful wife and I have much in common, but I have noticed she does not put on her shoes and socks correctly. Everybody knows that God commands us to put on both socks before donning shoes, but she persists in doing sock-shoe-sock-shoe. I'm surprised her parents didn't deal with this aberration when she was a child.

Of course, I had my own strange habit. In order to protect my delicate digestive system, I refused to eat one end of a hot dog. By definition, the end I ate was the head, so the other end had to be the butt. Isn't that logical? Not even Dad, who could coerce me into swallowing slippery, slimy oysters and cornbread laced with chunks of fat, could get me to eat a hot dog's rear end. In my defense, at least I knew the proper way to put on my socks and shoes!  

'I've Learned a Lot from TV

I received a good education from our public schools. In fact, since I took two years of Latin, if the Roman Empire ever comes back, I can use my linguistic knowledge to get a job at the United Nations as an interpreter: “The new Julius Caesar says, 'All roads, except Interstate 70, still lead to Rome.'”

With that being said, my education has been enhanced tremendously by what I have learned from TV programs. Who needs a PHD when these sources of information are available?

Just the other day, I learned why we have never found the bones or even the waste materials of those creatures we call Bigfoot. Surprisingly, even my skeptical-by-nature wife believes such a creature exists. When I told her what I had learned about the creature from a recent TV show, she stated, “I saw one of those hairy, ugly creatures the other day.”

Wanting to know more, I asked: “Where did you see it?”

“It was getting out of our bathtub!”

“Very funny! That was me!” That's what I get for marrying a comedian.

Anyway, the aforementioned program explained why, except for some huge footprints and some blurry photographs, we have no hard evidence that these mysterious creatures actually exist. According to the recent TV program, whenever Bigfoot feels ill, he simply transports himself into another dimension. I suppose he does this out of respect for our ecosystem. Evidently, out of simple courtesy, he travels to another dimension whenever nature calls, or perhaps he goes to San Francisco. Who would notice a little extra pile of waste on top of the mess already there?

For a couple of thousand years, experts have tried to figure out how the Egyptians built their pyramids so precisely. We know they are constructed almost perfectly, but historians, archaeologists, and engineers tell us the ancient Egyptians did not have the technology to build them. Yet, there they are.

Thanks to watching a particular TV show, I've solved this mystery. True, the ancient Egyptians lacked the technology and the equipment to do the job, but they got some help. Long ago, aliens from a faraway galaxy came to Earth. Their technology level was way beyond what we have even today. Being some of the nicer guys in the universe, these dudes rolled up their sleeves (They might have had several arms, so we don't know how many sleeves) and built these lasting monuments.

Evidently, those ancient Egyptians lucked out, because I learned that some advanced aliens come here to do us harm. A TV program showed aliens who arrived on Earth and soon eradicated disease and starvation. They seemed like such nice fellows, so when they began free visits to their planet, thousands of Earthlings accepted their offer.

One skeptical human being was able to discover what the strange language in one of their books meant. Sadly, by this time, his girlfriend was on her way to their far-off planet. The book was a cookbook that listed various ways to prepare humans. Folks, these were one-way trips. My wife said this show was fictional, but I'm not so sure. I do know this: Some space aliens cannot be trusted.

Although Nostradamus lived long ago, many of his predictions have been spot-on. For example, he described the coming of Hitler and barely missed the demented dictator's actual name. How did he do this? Was it magic? Was he a good guesser? If you don't watch much TV, you probably don't know the answer to this puzzle.

You see, advanced aliens, who no doubt had the ability to travel through time, gave Nostradamus his information. Of course, they would not have been the aliens who came here to fatten us up; they would have eaten the poor guy. Maybe it was the nice aliens who took the time to help the ancient Egyptians.

As you can see, one cannot obtain a full education from simply attending our public schools and universities. The real mysteries of life are solved by watching TV. Just today, for example, I learned from a commercial that food loaded with sugar is really good for you. You can take that information to the bank. 

The No-Frills Airline

 Against my better judgment, I decided to save a few bucks by flying on No Frills Airlines. The flight from New York City to San Francisco was almost $300 cheaper than that offered by any other airline. That was the good news. The bad news was that usually you get what you pay for.

As I stood in line at the ticket counter, the person in front had a request: “I would like you to send my blue suitcase to Los Angeles and my red one to Miami.”

“Sir, we couldn’t do that,” the airline representative replied.

“Why not?” the customer asked. “You did it on my trip to Dallas last year.”

The next customer approached the ticket agent. “Do you have reservations?” asked the young lady at the desk.

“Of course I have reservations about flying on this crummy airline, but I’ve gone through half a pint of whiskey to get up enough courage.”

Once at the front of the line, I bought a ticket and turned over my luggage. Oddly, although it was the middle of June, there was mistletoe hanging over the baggage counter. “Why do you have mistletoe hanging there?” I inquired.

“That’s so you can kiss your luggage goodbye,” was the ticket agent’s reply.

I paid a few extra bucks to fly first class because I do enjoy luxury. Before boarding, however, I was asked to turn the propeller while the co-pilot shooed several cows, pigs, and goats from the runway.

Once all were aboard, the head stewardess began speaking through a megaphone so that she could be heard (I told you this was a no-frills airline). She said, “As we prepare for takeoff, please make sure your seat backs are fully upright in their most uncomfortable position.” She continued: “Your seat cushions can be used for flotation, and in case of an emergency water landing, please take them with our compliments. If such an event occurs, an additional twenty dollars will be added to your bill.”

Then the second stewardess took over: “There may be fifty ways to leave your lover, but notice that there are only four ways to leave this airplane. Smoking in the restrooms is prohibited. Any person caught smoking will be asked to leave the plane immediately. In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will descend from the ceiling. Simply grab your mask and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your own mask before assisting the little one. If you are traveling with two small children, decide now which one you love more.”

While still in the airport, I had spotted the three pilots for this flight. I swear that the youngest of the group was at least ninety-five years old. The first pilot commented: “It’s windy today, isn’t it?”

The second one replied, “No, I think it’s Thursday.”

Then the third one spoke up: “I’m thirsty, too. Let’s have a beer before we try to fly this old tub.”

Once we were airborne, the captain spoke: “Welcome to Flight 128 from New York to San Francisco. The weather ahead is good, so we should have a smooth and uneventful flight. Now sit back and relax and….Oh no!”

A few minutes later, the captain once again spoke. He explained that while he was talking, a flight attendant accidentally spilled hot coffee onto his lap. ”You should see the front of my pants,” mused the pilot.

A gentleman sitting behind me said to no one in particular, “ You should see the back of mine!”

The pilot continued: “No Frills Airlines is pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in the industry. Unfortunately, none of them is on this flight.”

After about an hour into the flight, a stewardess asked each passenger in first class if he or she would like the deluxe meal. Ravished, I answered in the affirmative. About ten minutes later, I was handed a baloney sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of pop. “This is the deluxe meal?” I asked.

“It sure is, bub,” said the flight attendant closest to me. “You can count yourself lucky not to be in coach. Those folks can choose either bread and water or gruel.”

“Bread and water or gruel?” I asked. “That’s awful.”

“They’re getting the same accommodations that the folks in steerage got on the Titanic. You get what you pay for.”

One nervous lady spoke to a flight attendant: “The pilot will bring me down safely, won’t he?”

The stewardess answered: “He hasn’t left anybody up here yet.”

Eventually, we were ready to land in San Francisco. To say that we had a rough landing is an understatement. Despite being roped to our seats (remember, this was a no-frills airline), we bounced around like ten pins. One poor lady ended up three rows from her assigned seat. Then the head flight attendant spoke: “Please remain in your seats with your ropes fastened while the captain taxis what’s left of the airplane to the gate. Please be sure to take all of your belongings. If you’re going to leave anything, please make sure it’s something we’d like to have. Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that, sure as heck, everything has shifted. The next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you’ll think of us here at No Frills Airlines. Thank you for giving us the business while we took you for a ride.”

As we departed, the three pilots stood at the exit to say goodbye. I heard one of them say, “That was the shortest runway I’ve ever landed on.”

The second pilot replied: “Yeah, but it was also the widest.”

Before exiting the plane, a lady asked the pilots if that was a normal landing or if we had been shot down. The passengers pushed and shoved one another in an effort to quickly exit. The head attendant had announced that the last person off had to stay and clean the plane.

After three wonderful days in San Francisco, I had a safe and serene trip home. I took a train.

Jack the Cat is a Thief

It's an understatement to say my wife and I are cat lovers. Indeed, we are the proud “parents” of five previously-homeless felines. We have learned that, just like human beings, each furry kid has its own distinct personality. Our oldest cat, Kelly, enjoys snuggling with a human whenever they nap or go to bed. Annie is grumpy but absolutely loves Mom (and only Mom.) Zorro likes to sleep in the cat carrier! Our baby, Little Zorro, has never met a stranger. Jack, our “tuxedo” cat, loves nothing more than stealing his Mom's slippers. He seems to take great joy in seeing how long it takes her to find the missing objects.

When our senior cat died, we decided to give another orphan a home. Jack had been rescued from the streets of a northern Ohio town.  His front claws had been removed, and he had been neutered, so at one time he must have belonged to someone. Perhaps he escaped from his home, or, much worse, perhaps his humans tired of their cat and therefore dumped

him. Several times I've asked Jack about this, but he refuses to talk about it.

After paying various fees, we attempted to put Jack into a carrier, but it would have been easier to break into Fort Knox. Evidently, Jack thought we were going to dump him in a cornfield or turn him into a roast. He thrashed around in his portable prison during the long trip to his new home.

Upon our arrival, we unzipped the carrier; Jack took off like a bat out of you-know-where. He dashed under a bed, with our other cats in pursuit. Our other boys were simply wondering from where this stranger had come, but our crabby female, Annie, reached a paw under the bed and commenced to smack the poor guy around.

Jack stayed under the bed for two days. We had to bring him food, water, and a litter box. Occasionally, I'd reach under the bed to pet him while telling him about his new home. At least he didn't hiss at me.

On day three, Jack garnered enough courage to leave the relative safety of the bed to explore his new domain. For the most part, the male cats ignored him, but Annie hissed at him several times and, on a few occasions, attempted to rearrange his face.

Soon, Jack found a cat bed in the family room shaped like a tent. The other cats had occasionally used it, but the newcomer claimed it for his own. That's where he sleeps, and that's where he plans his game of stealing Mom's slippers. His favorite ones are blue, but now Mom puts them in the closet because you-know-who leaves teeth marks in them as he carries them to various hiding places.

She does, however, leave out her black slippers, so they are fair game. Jack operates from a sense of fairness; he only takes one slipper. He feels that leaving one for Mom is more than fair.

Unlike our senior cat, Jack is a “mommy's boy.” He tolerates me but absolutely loves her. When she arrives home, it is usually Jack who greets her first. He will sit on Mom's lap, but prefers I do no more than pet him.

Evidently, he misses Mom when she is away. I've watched in fascination while he scratches his chin on a slipper before sticking his head inside it to get a good whiff of her scent. Next, he picks the slipper up in his mouth and hides it! Then he goes to his tent to await Mom's arrival.

This has become a game for Jack. He likes to watch as Mom searches from one room to another. The longer it takes her to find the prize, the happier he seems to be.

 I'm being left out of the action. He never swipes my shoes. I even smelled them to make certain they weren't too gross. I didn't faint, so they must be okay.

I just have to accept the fact that Jack is indeed a “Mommy's boy.” But the good news is this: He seems perfectly happy and relaxed in his new forever home. Now, if only his crabby sister would stop threatening to rearrange his face.

Newspaper Ads from the 'Roaring' Twenties."

10-11-1923: “J. C. Penney Co. 475 Department Stores. 326 Main St.- Zanesville, Ohio. THIS NEW STORE Serves You Well! Service means Satisfaction and Low Prices. This Store was established to give that kind of Service. It is a link in the World's Largest Chain Department Store Organization. It expects to succeed in proportion to the service it renders its customers. You'll like this store, for it is prepared to serve you well. J. C. Penney Co.”

11-10-1923: “The 1924 Model Studebaker Light-Six Coupe-Roadster... $1225. The 1924 Model Studebaker Light-Six closed cars are quality cars. They are built to endure-to give lasting satisfaction. Both body and chassis are produced in Studebaker plants where painstaking craftsmanship has always been the rule-and the practice.

By manufacturing complete motors, transmissions, axles, frames, bodies, tops, castings, forgings, and stampings, parts-makers' profits are eliminated from costs, and one profit only is included in Studebaker prices. Phone or call for demonstration. MORRISON MOTOR CAR CO. 218 Main Street.”

3-10-1924: “THREE-YEAR LUBRICATION The New Improved Longer Life for The Aerobell, the Scientific Way to Wash. Electric Vacuum Clothes Washer. The new AEROBELL lubrication system reduces wear to a minimum. Operating parts are continually covered by a film of oil. None of them is ever missed or allowed to run dry. A more smoothly and quietly running washing machine is hard to imagine. Examine a new AEROBELL at any of our stores. The American Light Co., 122-8 Main Street. Bell 2478.”

3-10-1924: “VARNISH and GROUND COLOR 75 cents (per) QUART. Wall Paper Cleaner 3 Cans 25 cents. Everything in Housecleaning Needs. FOGG'S Central Drug Store Fifth and Market. Phone 212. Motor Delivery.”

7-8-1924: “See 'Em Today, Sir. $2.50, $3.00, $3.50. STRAW HATS. A style to Suit Every Man, Plain and Fancy Braids, Rough or Smooth Edge. (Starting at $1.95). Mr. Man! - Come in today for your 'Straw.' We have a great variety for you to select from- included are Sennets, fancy Barkahalu braids in straight or saw edge brims. See a whole window full of them at $1.95. The A.E. STARR CO.”

12-3-1924: “35 cents-NOON LUNCH-35 cents. Wednesday-Fresh Pork, Sauerkraut, Mashed Potatoes, Rolls, Butter, Coffee, Tea or Milk...35 cents. -Waffles with Sausage...Steaks, Chops, Oysters. HAZEL GAYLE PULLMAN, Main at 5th-Downstairs. Under Baird & Shurts.”

2-25-1925: “-And then we label it HEINZ, one of the 57. Throughout fifty-five years of achievement in the making of wholesome, nourishing foods, the name Heinz has come to be more than a designation. It has come to mean a standard of quality, and as such is our greatest asset, to be safeguarded at all times, at all costs.

Every individual package is the gauge of the other millions of packages of Heinz 57 Varieties of Pure Food Products made for world consumption. There must never be the least deviation in quality. To slight one would be to belittle all. Therefore, the label goes on last. It is our own stamp of approval and your assurance that your money could buy nothing better.

Of all the things we make there is no Variety that is better known than Heinz Tomato Ketchup. It is ... different-it is better-it is the best that can be made. OUR NAME IS OUR GREATEST ASSET. When you come to Pittsburgh visit the Heinz kitchens.”

4-4-1925: “PLAYER PIANO ROLLS. A large shipment of Q.R.S. and Vocal style Rolls just received. -Come in and try them over.- THE MUNSON MUSIC CO. Everything Musical. Third and Main Sts.”

10-7-1925: “NASH-Leads the World in Motor Car Value. The New ADVANCED SIX SEDAN, $1485. SPECIAL SIX SEDAN, $1265. Outside and inside-in the engineering and the body craftsmanship-in completeness and quality of fittings and appointments-this new Advanced Six Sedan clearly leads its field. COLGAN & GRANGER NASH CO. Sixth at Bridge.”

8-14-1926: “QUALITY PLUS ECONOMY. To buy good food is an economy-Buying it at your A & P store is an added economy. MEAT MARKET-712 MAIN ST. Pot Roast Beef...12 ½ cents; Chuck Roast...18 cents; Hamburg...15 cents; Shoulder Beef Roast...20 cents; Rib or Loin Pork Chops...30 cents; Pork Roast...25 cents; Sirloin Steak...28 cents; Veal Chops...23 cents; Veal Stew...15 cents.”

Battle of the Sexes

• Why are dumb blonde jokes one-liners? So men can remember them.

• What did the blonde say when the doctor told her she was pregnant? “I wonder if it's mine.”

• What do you give a man who has everything? Penicillin.

• Men don't make mistakes; they date them.

• Why can't men get Mad Cow Disease? Because they're all pigs.

• When a lady entered her favorite pizzeria, she was asked if she wanted her usual large pizza cut into twelve pieces. “No,” she replied. “I'm not very hungry tonight, so cut it into six pieces.”

• How does a man show he's planning for the future? He buys two cases of beer instead of one.

• A guy asked his girlfriend to check if his right front directional signal was working. She replied: “Yes, no, yes, no...”

• What's the difference between government bonds and men? Government bonds eventually mature.

• Bill taught his wife all about housekeeping. After their divorce, she kept the house (and almost everything else).

• How is a man like the weather? Nothing can be done to change either of them.

• How do you keep a woman busy for hours? Write “turn over” on both sides of a piece of paper.

• If a man and a woman jumped off a high building at the same time, which one would land first? The woman, the guy would get lost on the way down.

• My friend Joe is getting a divorce. “When you married her, you called her 'Miss Right,' “ I reminded him. “I didn't know her first name was 'Always,'” he replied.

• Why does psychoanalysis take less time for men than it does for women? It takes men little time to get back to their childhoods.

• There are two times in life when a man cannot understand a woman: before marriage and after marriage.

• What do you call a man with half a brain? Gifted.

• A lady was so proud of herself for putting together a puzzle in one day, while the box said 2-4 years.

• Where can you find a committed man? In a mental institution.

• Women and cats do what they want. Men and dogs have to get used to this fact.

• What do men and mascara have in common? They both run at the first sign of emotion.

• Joe took his girlfriend to a football game. Before the end of the first half, she asked why the fans were so concerned about a coin. “A coin?” he asked. “Yes,” she replied. “They keep chanting, 'Get the quarter back!'"

• Why are men like commercials? You can't believe a word they say.

Going to the Fair

I think it's something in their blood. For some reason, my wife Bev and her family absolutely love fairs. Several years ago, at the state fair, we went through the animal barns so often that the critters learned our names. After several hours at the fair, the kids began asking when we were going home; a couple of hours later, the husbands were asking the same thing.

Both the children and the spouses were told in no uncertain terms that we would not be leaving until the ladies “got their money's worth.” I'm not saying we stayed a long time, but eventually the guy in charge handed my wife the key to the main gate and told her to lock up whenever (if ever?) we were ready to leave.

Okay, as my brother-in-law would say, I exaggerate, but it is true that once my wife and her family members get into a fair, it's quite a task to get them to leave. If you are married to one of my in-laws, I suggest you purchase comfortable walking shoes, a bottle of pain pills, and a copious amount of liniment.

I doubt any doctor has ever sent a patient to a fair to improve their diet. Although much of the food is delicious, a lot of it can clog your arteries about as quickly as a big clump of hair can plug your bathroom drain. All I know is that my wife craves fair food.

In my opinion, the worst food we ever bought at the fair was maple ice cream covered with bacon bits. This was the first time I've ever thrown away ice cream. What a waste.  Don't get me wrong; I like both bacon and ice cream, but not when they are served together. Certain foods should be kept away from each other, such as ketchup and peaches; prunes and pizza; and potato chips and gravy.

During our latest visit, Bev ordered deep-fried olives and lemon meringue deviled eggs. I do not like olives in any form; eating stuffed olives dipped in waffle batter and then deep-fried would just hasten my second open-heart surgery, which would not be a fun activity. I do like deviled eggs and lemon meringue pie, but like with ice cream and bacon, I prefer to consume them separately.

Evidently, since fair-goers are a captive audience, the proprietors feel they can charge the most outrageous prices, even for the strange things my wife likes to eat. Therefore, I suggested we eat at a restaurant before entering the fairgrounds, but Bev argued that no restaurant had all the “special” things she wished to eat, like ice cream with bacon, deep-fried olives, and lemon meringue deviled eggs. She's right; I know of no restaurant that serves such “delicacies.”

After spending what seemed like a small fortune on some strange foods, we went to the main auditorium to be entertained by a very good country and western singer. Country songs are often about lost loves-especially about losing wives and girlfriends. The saddest songs lament losing both the wife and the girlfriend. (My wife says this is not funny. I'll let you decide.)

On the way to the fair, we heard on the radio that scientists and engineers are making great progress when it comes to developing self-driving vehicles. Therefore, I think it's just a matter of time until we hear a country singer's sad lament about his truck leaving him:

“I gave her the best oil and the top grade of gas I always checked her air pressure before we went fishing for bass.  But today, when I looked in the garage, she was gone from her comfort zone.  My pickup hit the road.  She's all on her own.  I've lost two wives and eight girlfriends,  but they don't really count. For the love of my pickup is what love is all about.” (At this point, you may wish to yodel.)

Now back to the fair. On top of it all, I had to deal with the barkers as we strolled along the midway. One of them pointed to me and yelled, “You are 125!” “Sorry, buddy, but I weigh a little more than that,” I replied. “I wasn't guessing your weight,” he said. “I was guessing your age.”

I'm not complaining about sore feet, an aching back, a thinner wallet, or a sense of boredom. Spending hour after hour at the fair is worth it if that's what makes my wife happy. Furthermore, I'd rather be in a boring situation with my wife than in the most exciting one without her by my side.

Now if only I can get her past the deep-fried chocolate-covered strawberries dipped in lard, on the way to the parking lot. The animals told us to hurry back and hoped we would have a safe trip home.