“Hum!”
by Pete
Bennett
As with most articles I
write, I usually start by sitting down at my computer, I
think about a subject, then type my thoughts as words into
the computer. This usually is all that it takes to produce an
article.
Well, this time it
didn’t work that way. I did exactly what I described to
you and this time it just didn’t work. After rewriting
the article several times I finally turned to the delete
button on my word processor and got rid of the whole thing.
It’s gone!
Now I’m going to
let you witness this rewrite. Let’s see. I’ll need
a name for this article. Hum!
Wait a minute, how can I
give it a name if I don’t know what it’s about yet.
Hum! Subject: “Pete’s Logic”, that should get
them (you) interested. Hum!
Let’s see, what
logic do I want to tell about? Hum! This could really get
good.
When I was a kid I took lessons to learn to ride
a bicycle. My parents couldn’t afford to pay for full lessons so I only took
half lessons. That’s why all I can ride is a unicycle. Hum!
See what I mean. I just flows from my
finger tips. I got a bunch of 3-D glasses and I wear them at the same time.
I just use enough to get it up to a good, say, 10 or 12-D. Hum!
I heard that in
relativity theory, space and time are the same thing. Albert
Einstein discovered this when he kept showing up to three
miles late to meetings.
Photons have mass? I
didn't even know they were Catholic. Ya know, we were born
naked, wet and hungry. Then things got worse. Hum!
Starting to catch on? It
won’t get no better. Hum!
Five out of four people
have trouble with fractions. I just got a physical and asked
the doctor, "How do I stand?" He said, "That's
what puzzles me." What is a "free" gift?
Aren't all gifts free? I think by now, their (your) finally
seeing things my way. Hum!
I don't suffer from
insanity. I enjoy every minute of it. The obituaries in the
newspaper prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that all people
die in alphabetical order. Two wrongs don't make a right. But
three rights make a left. Think about it.
Why did the kamikaze pilots need helmets?
If a parsley farmer is sued, can they
garnish his wages?
Would a fly without wings be called a walk?
I'm a psychic amnesiac. I know in advance what
I'm going to forget.
If I melted dry ice, could I swim in it and not
get wet?
If a book about failures doesn't sell, is it a
success?
Do cemetery workers prefer the graveyard shift?
What do you do when you see an endangered
animal that eats only endangered plants?
Hum!
Now that I have their (your) attention, It’s time for some humor.
Recently the “Stupid Criminal Awards” were
presented and here’s a few samples:
San Francisco: A man,
wanting to rob a downtown Bank of America, walked into the
branch and wrote "this iz a stikkup. Put all your muny
in this bag. While standing in line, waiting to give his note
to the teller, he began to worry that someone had seen him
write the note and might call the police before he reached
the teller window. So he left the Bank of America and crossed
the street to Wells Fargo. After waiting a few minutes in
line, he handed his note to the Wells Fargo teller. She read
it and, surmising from his spelling errors that he was not
the brightest light in the harbor, told him that she could
not accept his stickup note because it was written on a Bank
of America deposit slip and that he would either have to fill
out a Wells Fargo deposit slip or go back to Bank of America.
Looking somewhat defeated, the man said "OK" and
left. The Wells Fargo teller then called the police, who
arrested the man a few minutes later as he was waiting in
line back at Bank of America.
San Francisco: A
motorist was unknowingly caught in an automated speed trap
that measured his speed using radar and photographed his car.
He later received in the mail a ticket for $40 and a photo of
his car. Instead of a payment, he sent the police department
a photograph of $40. A few days later, he received a letter
from the police that contained another picture...of a pair of
handcuffs. He paid the fine!
San Diego: A guy walked
into a little corner store with a shotgun and demanded all
the cash from the cash drawer. After the cashier put the cash
in a bag, the robber saw a bottle of scotch that he wanted
behind the counter on the shelf. He told the cashier to put
it in the bag as well, but he refused and said, "Because
I don't believe you're over 21." The robber said he was,
but the clerk still refused to give it to him because he
didn't believe him. At this point the robber took his
driver's license out of his wallet and gave it to the clerk.
The clerk looked it over, and agreed that the man was, in
fact, over 21, and he put the scotch in the bag. The robber
then ran from the store with his loot. The cashier promptly
called the police and gave the name and address of the robber
that he got off the license. They arrested the robber two
hours later.
A pair of Michigan
robbers entered a record shop nervously waving revolvers. The
first one shouted, "Nobody move!" When his partner
moved, the startled first bandit shot him.
Now you’ve helped
me rather well with this article, but if you’ve read my
articles before you will recall that I always like to add a
serious poem or item that leaves you thinking. So now I have
got this little story for you that I hope will do just that.
This was told to me by a friend:
During my junior year in
high school, Mr. Reynolds, my English teacher, handed each
student a list of thoughts or statements written by other
students, then gave us a creative writing assignment based on
one of those thoughts.
At 17, I was beginning
to wonder about many things, so I chose the statement,
"I wonder why things are the way they are?"
That night, I wrote down
in the form of a story all the questions that puzzled me
about life. I realized that many of them were hard to answer,
and perhaps others could not be answered at all. When I
turned in my paper, I was afraid that I might fail the
assignment because I had not answered the question, "I
wonder why things are the way they are?" I had no
answers. I had only written questions.
The next day Mr.
Reynolds called me to the front of the class and asked me to
read my story for the other students. He handed the paper and
sat down in the back of the room. The class became quiet as I
began to read my story:
Mommy, why are the
roses red?
Mommy, why is the grass
green and the sky blue?
Why does a spider have a
web and not a house?
Daddy, why can't I play
in your toolbox?
Teacher, why do I have
to read?
Mother, why can't I wear
lipstick to the dance?
Daddy, why can't I stay
out until 12:00?The other kids are.
Mother, why do you hate
me?
Daddy, why don't the
boys like me?
Why do I have to be so
skinny?
Why do I have braces and
wear glasses?
Mom, why do I have to
graduate?
Dad, why do I have to
grow Up?
Mom, Dad, why do I have
to leave?
Mom, why don't you write
more often?
Dad, why do I miss my
old friends?
Dad, why do you love me
so much?
Dad, why do you spoil
me?
Your little girl is
growing up.
Mom, why don't you
visit?
Mom, why is it hard to
make new friends?
Dad, why do I miss being
at home?
Dad, why does my heart
skip a beat when he looks in my eyes?
Mom, why do my legs
tremble when I hear his voice?
Mother, why is being
"in love" the greatest feeling in the world?
Daddy, why don't you
like to be called "Gramps"?
Mother, why do my baby's
tiny fingers cling so tightly to mine?
Mother, why do they have
to grow up?
Daddy, why do they have
to leave?
Why do I have to be
called "Granny"?
Mommy, Daddy, why did
you have to leave me? I need you.
Why did my youth slip
past me?
Why does my face show
every smile that I have ever given to a friend or a stranger?
Why does my hair glisten
a shiny silver?
Why do my hands quiver
when I bend to pick a flower?
Why, God, are the roses
red?
At the conclusion of my
story, my eyes locked with Mr. Reynolds's eyes, and I saw a
tear slowly sliding down his cheek. It was then that I
realized that life is not always based on the answers we
receive, but also on the questions that we ask. Hum!
Well that’s it for this month, thanks for the
help. I didn’t have to rewrite it again, but I have decided now after
re-reading the article and knowing what it’s about, I think I’ll name it
“Hum!”.
COPYRIGHT © 2012 Pete Bennett
All rights
Reserved.
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