A Picky Eater? Me?

The other day I was reminiscing about our kids' early eating habits. While our daughter was willing to try just about anything, our son was one of the pickiest eaters I've ever met.

My wife responded: “Being a picky eater must be an inherited trait. No doubt he got his eating habits from you.”

“From me?” I wasn't a picky eater.”

“Then why did you flush pieces of your mom's cornbread down the toilet?”

“For some reason, Mom made cornbread laced with big globs of fat. Just the thought of chewing on a hunk of fat makes me want to throw up. So whenever I encountered a piece of it, I would stick it in my pants pocket, which I had previously lined with a piece of paper towel. After supper, I'd flush the awful stuff down the toilet where it belonged!”

“So, you were picky about fat.”

“No one in their right mind would eat big hunks of fat!”

“You also tried to get out of eating oysters, I've been told.”

“If there was one thing I hated to eat more than fat, it was snot, and those oysters had the texture, smell, and taste of a big old booger.”

“Didn't your dad make you eat them?”

“Yes. He commanded: 'Say poly-woggy and they will slip right down your throat.' That was true, but my fear was that they were going to come right back up!”

“You also tried to avoid eating anything from your mom's 'slop jar.'”

“Who wouldn't? Growing up in a large family during the Great Depression, Mom said whenever they butchered a hog, everything but the oink was used. Well, years later, she continued to use anything edible. So if a little corn, a piece of meat, or a hunk of onion was left after a meal, it would end up in the slop jar. Occasionally she would pour some of this into a skillet and fry it. It was an interesting game to guess what all one was eating.”

“Well, you didn't eat a pizza until the junior high school years. That's pretty picky.”

“That was because Dad did not allow pizza in his house. When I was only ten or eleven years old we visited some relatives. For dinner, they ordered a large box of pizza that smelled very much like hot vomit. Although this delicacy was new to us, when we got home Dad decreed that the awful-smelling stuff would not be allowed in his domain. A few years later, however, behind Dad's back, while he was working, Mom made some pretty good Chef Boyardee pizzas.”

“Your sister told me you wouldn't eat one end of a hot dog.”

“I could not bring myself to eat what I considered to be the hot dog's butt.”

“How did you know which end was the butt? They both look the same to me.”

“By definition, whichever end I began chewing on was the head.”

“I rest my case. You were a picky eater and our son inherited that trait.”

“Yeah, then he must have inherited your love of chocolate candy.”

“Guilty as charged. Hand me that Kit Kat Bar”. 

Jokes to Tickle Your Funny Bone

• To my surprise, the doctor told me I wasn't retaining water. However, she did say I was retaining pizza, ice cream, cookies, and doughnuts.

• Eating, napping, no teeth, toilet troubles. Being a baby is just a practice run for old age.

• I hate it when people act so intellectual and talk about Mozart although they've never seen one of his paintings.

• CHURCH BULLETIN BLOOPER: “The Pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday morning.”

• My cousin suggested horse manure on my strawberries. I didn't like the taste of that, so I'm going back to whipped cream.

• A children's pastor asked his young flock: “Why do you think I wear this collar?” One young man answered: “Because it kills ticks and fleas up to 30 days?”

• The government's view on the economy: “If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.” Ronald Reagan.

• They say we can learn from our mistakes. If I learn from my eight billion goofs, I'll be a genius.

• The children were lined up in the cafeteria for lunch. The nun made a note and posted it by the apples: “Take only one. God is watching.” Down the line, where the cookies were, a child left the following note: “Take all you want. God is busy watching the apples.”

• When I was a kid there were two ways to die: natural causes and talking back to one's parents!

• My grandchildren wanted to know what my childhood years were like, so I took away their phones, unplugged the Internet, blocked all but three channels on the TV, gave them each a Popsicle, and told them to play outside until dark.

• Six-year-old children laugh an average of 300 times a day. Adults only laugh 15-100 times a day. Be six again!

• Apparently, exercise helps with decision-making. After running five miles this morning I've decided never to do that again!

* ”When I was a boy of 14, my father was ignorant; I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.” Mark Twain.

• I'm so old I can remember when you had to actually win to get a trophy.

• The other day a police officer stopped my wife, telling her: “This is a one-way street, ma'am!” “So what's the problem?” she asked. “I'm only going one way!”

• During labor, the pain is so great that a woman can almost imagine what a man feels like when he has a cold.

• The other day my cat clarified our relationship: “Let me explain something to you. I am not your pet; you are mine.”

• I just “paid backward” by telling the drive-through person that the guy in the car behind me is paying for my food.

* THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: God always answers prayers, but sometimes He says “no.”

All About Baseball

 

“If it weren't for baseball, many kids wouldn't know what a millionaire looked like.” Phyllis Diller

• “Baseball players are smarter than football players. How often do you see a baseball team penalized for too many men on the field?” Jim Bouton

• “So I'm ugly. So what? I never saw anyone hit with his face.” Yogi Berra

• “Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona.” George Will

• “Close don't count in baseball. Close only counts in horseshoes and grenades.” Frank Robinson

• “A man once told me to walk with the Lord. I'd rather walk with the bases loaded.” Ken Singleton

• “The secret of successful managing is to keep the five guys who hate you away from the four guys who haven't made up their minds.” Casey Stengel

• “I'd walk through h_ _ _ in a gasoline suit to play baseball.” Pete Rose

• “If it wasn't for baseball, I'd be in either the penitentiary or the cemetery.” Babe Ruth

• “Trying to sneak a fastball past Hank Aaron is like trying to sneak a sunrise past a rooster.” Joe Adcock

• “He hits from both sides of the plate. He's amphibious.” Yogi Berra

• “Baseball is like church. Many attend, but few understand.” Leo Durocher

• “Baseball is dull only to dull minds.” Red Barber

• “Bob Gibson is the luckiest pitcher I ever saw. He always pitches when the other team doesn't score any runs.” Tim McCarver

• “Little League baseball is a very good thing because it keeps the parents off the streets.” Yogi Berra

• “Baseball is the only field of endeavor where a man can succeed three times out of ten and be considered a good performer.” Ted Williams

• “Being with a woman at night never hurt no professional baseball player. It's staying up all night looking for a woman that does him in.” Casey Stengel.

• “You spend a good piece of your life gripping a baseball and in the end, it turns out that it was the other way around all the time.” Jim Bouton

• “The other sports are just sports. Baseball is a love.” Bryant Gumbel

• “They say some of my stars drink whiskey. But I have found that the ones who drink milkshakes don't win many ballgames.” Casey Stengel

• “Baseball is 90% mental and the other half is physical.” Yogi Berra

• “People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.” Rogers Hornsby.

• “You could be a kid for as long as you want when you play baseball.” Cal Ripkin Jr.

A Special Homecoming Queen

 A Special Homecoming Queen 

The Ohio State University, originally known as the Agricultural and Mechanical College, began “Ohio State Day” in 1912. Later changed to “Homecoming,” the event was created to bring alumni back to campus each year. A key part of the festivities included electing a Homecoming Queen.

To be selected Homecoming Queen, much like being selected to be a cheerleader, is a prestigious award for which most young women can only dream. In 1926, the OSU College of Agriculture nominated one Maudine Ormsby to rule over that year’s Homecoming festivities, but the young lady had two humongous problems to overcome. First of all, although she was seen around campus and ate her meals there, Maudine was not registered as a student at the Ohio State University. Secondly, unlike many of her fellow coeds, she was not exactly beautiful, at least not in the conventional sense of the word. Indeed, she was a large gal; she might have been the heaviest female on campus. On the other hand, Ms. Ormsby was ahead of her times, for she was one of the few practicing vegetarians in the region.

To the surprise of college officials, this rather homely female was elected Homecoming Queen in 1926. Those officials, perhaps with smiles on their faces, had refused to disqualify Ms. Ormsby over the technicality of not being enrolled, and as for her looks, no doubt the Ohio State brain trust realized that real, lasting beauty lies within the soul.

Surprisingly, the alumni and the students were more excited about Maudine’s victory than she was. She went along with the festivities but never displayed either nervousness or excitement. She neither smiled nor frowned as the crown and cape were placed upon her. For Ms. Ormsby, it was just another day.

Later that evening, after the parade and other festivities had been completed, Maudine skipped the big dance. Perhaps that was a good decision, for she didn’t look like the most agile gal in the world. In fact, she could be described as having four left feet. So instead of attending the dance she contentedly spent her evening at a barn not far from the main campus.

You see, Maudine Ormsby was a cow. No, I’m not an insensitive male chauvinist pig describing an overweight lady. I’m talking about the kind of cow that moos, gives lots of milk, and eats hay. As a joke, the College of Agriculture had nominated this creature for Homecoming Queen, and when the student body elected the hay burner, Ohio State officials went along with the funny business.

To this day some folks argue that the joke was an affront to the tradition and seriousness of Homecoming, but I think they protest too much. Although Maudine Ormsby was rather homely (if you are a bull, you may disagree), no real harm was done.

Although Maudine did not meet the physical standards of Ohio State’s Homecoming Queens either before or after 1926, Buckeye fans, with tongues planted firmly in their cheeks, would argue that she’s prettier than any Homecoming Queen ever elected at that “school up north.” 

The Dating Program

Just out of curiosity, I asked my good friend Bob to run my vital information through his computer dating program to see what kind of gal is supposedly right for me.

Bob started with some basic questions. I told him that I was seventy-three- years old, five feet, eight inches tall, and weighed about 175 pounds. My friend just shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’re not off to a good start,” he replied. “You’re old, short, and a few pounds overweight.”

“I don’t know about that,” I responded, holding in my gut and offering my best profile. “Maybe I should get a second opinion.”

“Okay, you’re also ugly. I’ll put that into the program. You know, there is a factor that can largely override those negative traits.”

“What’s that?”

“How much money do you have?”

“Counting my long-term investments, I’d say I’m worth twenty or thirty.”

“Twenty or thirty thousand?”

“No, just twenty or thirty bucks.”

“If you had at least a million bucks your negatives would be neutralized.”

“What does that mean?”

“It simply means that if you have enough money some ladies would overlook the fact that you are old, short, overweight, and ugly. Of course, you wouldn’t want to be fixed up with any gals like that.”

“Why not?”

“We put men and women of that caliber into the ‘gold-digger’ group. Those relationships have a high failure rate. When the money is gone so are they.”

Bob continued: “Can you sing?”

“My voice has been compared to Lucille Ball’s.”

“That would be a big ‘no.’”

“Do you play golf?”

“I’ve played a couple times. The last time out I had a 72.”

“Now we’re getting someplace. I can put down that you are a gifted golfer.”

“That 72 was on hole one; after that, it was too dark so I went home.”

“Scratch that. Do you have much traveling experience?”

“The last time I played basketball I was called for traveling three times.”

“No, knucklehead! I mean traveling to exotic places like Paris or London.”

“I get seasick and I’m scared to fly. Have they built a bridge to Europe yet?”

“Never mind. Have you won any awards?”

“” During my senior year in high school, I was picked as the ‘most forgettable person.’”

“That’s just great! What are your favorite foods?”

“Liver and onions and cauliflower.”

“What is your favorite wine?”

“Whatever is cheapest. Of course, I like it to be aged at least two or three days.”

“What is your favorite TV show?”

“The one with the purple dinosaur.”

At this point, Bob’s computer began to smoke and make strange hissing sounds, so he turned it off while we had lunch. About forty-five minutes later he continued plugging in information.

“What is your best trait?”

“I only snore two or three hours a night. The rest of the night I only talk in my sleep.”

“Do you belong to any clubs?”

“No. I wouldn’t want to belong to any organization that would accept someone like me.”

“Do you have a sense of humor?”

“With a face like this, I better have one.”

“Would you describe yourself as physically strong?”

“Yes. I’m definitely stronger compared to when I was twenty.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Well, when I was twenty I couldn’t hold twenty-five dollars worth of groceries in one arm; now I can. At this rate, I’ll have the strength of Superman by the time I’m eighty.”

“Okay. Let’s see what comes up.”

Usually, a client gets twenty to thirty matches. In my case, only one match appeared.

“I think this would be the perfect gal for you,” Bob explained. “As a matter of fact, I think she’s made just for you.”

The dating machine had picked the wife of Frankeinstein’s monster as my ideal mate. Maybe I‘d have a chance. She hated the monster, and unlike him, I’m not green and I don’t have bolts sticking out of my neck. And furthermore, most of my parts are original.