Good Morning…..Day 268

My uncle recently passed and I am the executor of his will. One job I have is to handle the funeral and I discovered how expensive these affairs are. In my quest to find something cheaper, I saw a newspaper advertisement for a local store that sold coffins. So I bought one from them, put my uncle’s body in it and drove him to the funeral parlor. They refused delivery. They said I had to buy their casket.
Very irritated, I returned home and put my uncle in the garage where he is now resting comfortably until I can figure out what to do. My wife suggested looking for a cemetery where I can dig my own hole.

Good Morning…..Day 266

I had a confusing morning. My wife spoke to me but I didn’t understand a word she was saying. My eyeglasses went missing and everything looked blurry. Then a man walked out of my bedroom and started talking to me. I also couldn’t understand him. Finally there was a knock on the door. My wife answered it and, standing in the doorway, was my real wife.
“Honey,” she called.
I was even more confused.
“You did it again,” she said. “You went home to the wrong apartment.”
“I didn’t understand a word they said.”
“They’re talking in Italian.”
“How come they didn’t complain when I got into bed with them?”
My wife shrugged.
I left, thanking them for their hospitality. The Italian woman gave me a loaf of bread as a parting gift.

Good Morning…..Day 265

I fell asleep on the subway in New York and woke up on a park bench in San Francisco. I went to the police looking for an explanation. They informed me that while I was sleeping, I traveled to JFK airport, hopped a plane to Las Vegas, went to a casino and gambled $1K at the poker table, took in a show, then traveled to the Hollywood and met with Steven Spielberg to talk about my movie script, finally renting a car and driving to San Francisco where I ended up on the bench. The police asked me if I’d like to see a psychiatrist for help. I said no. I had $10K in my pocket from the casino and a signed movie contract from Spielberg. He bought my script for $175K. I thanked the police and returned to the park bench. Time to go back to sleep.

Good Morning…..Day 264

I wanted to go mountain climbing. Trouble is, I can barely climb stairs without getting tired. I put an ad in the paper asking for someone to carry me up a mountain, but no one responded. Then it hit me – go skydiving. Fly over the mountain, jump out, land on it, hide the parachute and tell everyone I climbed it. That’s exactly what I did. Unfortunately I forgot one thing – I had to climb down the mountain. Now I’m stuck here. I called the post office and asked if they’d forward my mail.

Good Morning…..Day 263

I, too, being human, haven’t escaped my own collection of quirky habits and annoying eccentricities. A recent poll taken of my closest peers brought agreement on one quirk in particular – the fact that I like to give all foreigners a genuine American welcome – I run them off the road with my car.
The birth of an oddball habit can be amusing to trace. Visitors to my home wonder why I own 20 washing machines and dryers. I tell them, “After years of never finding an empty machine in a laundromat, now I always do.”
During my childhood, my Mom always enjoyed livening up dinnertime by hiding a lit firecracker in my soup. Now, years later, I find it difficult to eat soup if it doesn’t explode in my face.
I don’t know why, but my Uncle Fred always reads the newspaper by shouting the news at the top of his lungs. “AND TODAY IN NORTH KOREA…” The neighbors tune in Uncle Fred instead of their televisions.
A friend has a preoccupation with introducing himself to homely girls and saying, “Words cannot possibly describe your beauty. So how about if we listen to a few screams instead?” (My friend is presently in the hospital with several broken bones.)
Eccentric habits and their development are a mystery. One expert suggests that the seed is planted early in life. Our father hits us and suddenly we have the urge to glue ourselves to a cat. Another expert claims that it’s biological in nature and suggests gene therapy as an answer. But how does that cure my Aunt Ellen’s habit of watching the world with one eye open at a time? Half the day she looks with just her right eye. The other half with her left.
There are habits that can be considered beneficial – liking dodging bullets. I inherited my older brother’s habit of driving backwards on a highway at 60 miles an hour. (It prevents accidents since other drivers get out of your way.) And, through personal experience, I’ve acquired the habit of never starting a campfire indoors unless it’s in a neighbor’s house.
Summing up, habits are like anything else. Some are good, Some are bad. And some create the look of fear on a person’s face. Those are the ones to be treasured.

Good Morning…..Day 261

Life is a pair of pants…with a broken zipper.

Good Morning…..Day 260

Here Fido! (A Short Story)

“Tom’s dog died,” said Paul, Tom’s brother. Paul was sitting on his porch, quietly rocking the October evening away.
“No!” replied Jim, a friend. “He loved that animal. How long did he have that dog?”
“About 15 years.”
“So what’d he do with it? Bury him in his backyard?”
“No. Tom figured on a pet cemetery.”
“You don’t say.” said Jim.
“To start, Tom made the coffin for his dog. He wrapped Fido up in aluminum foil to contain any bad odor. He laid the dog in the coffin. He lit candles and had a CD playing the dog’s favorite song, Elvis singing ‘Hound Dog’.”
“Then he arranged for a wake with animals. There must’ve been about 20 cats and dogs and a bunch of parakeets yaking away. And Tom trained one parakeet to deliver the eulogy. The dog loved birds and Tom thought it would’ve been nice but the bird just kept saying, ‘You’re going to hell! You’re going to hell!’ It belonged to a minister.
“The next day Tom called the pet cemetery and made arrangements for burial but the place couldn’t accept delivery for 2 days. In the meantime, Tom kept the dog, now wrapped in 3 layers of aluminum foil, in his freezer. He forgot to tell his wife when she reached in and pulled out the dog thinking it was a steak all ready for the oven. Two hours later it was cooked. Luckily Tom found out before his wife took a bite. He decided to put the dog in a safety deposit box in a bank.
“When Friday came and it was time to take the dog to the cemetery, Tom went to the bank to discover that the IRS had a court order to open up box 163 but mistakenly opened up 164 which was Tom’s. Well, they were pretty surprised to find a cooked dog inside.
“The bank employees had disposed of the dog by putting it into a trash compactor. Tom explained the situation and the dog was returned, but it had been squeezed down to half its former size.
“Tom took Fido, put it in a bag and left. He returned to his car and when he got there a mugger robbed him at gunpoint taking his wallet and the bag. Tom tried telling the thief that there was nothing but a dead dog inside but the crook took it anyway. Can you imagine the look on that guy’s face when he opened the bag?” laughed Paul.
“Anyway,” he continued, “when Tom returned home the police called him and said they got the thief and he could pickup his bag. Tom rushed over, claimed his bag and dog and headed to the pet cemetery. This time he finally made it.
“He was asked a lot of questions by the cemetery owners why the dog was cooked, compacted and wrapped in foil and Tom explained everything. The burial was arranged for Sunday so Tom went home happy. However, on Saturday, he got a call from the manager of the cemetery. They had made a mistake and cremated the dog, but the mistake was discovered in time so only half the dog was cremated.
“Tom was very depressed at this point. All he could say was, ‘My dear Fido. My dear Fido. What have they done to you?’
“Then Sunday morning came and as he was getting ready to leave for the burial service, he got another call from the cemetery manager. This time they said they the dog had somehow got mixed in with some paper documents that were headed for an industrial shredder and, well, the dog had been shredded. And, at that point, Tom had a nervous breakdown.”
“Did they finally bury the dog?” asked Jim.
“Yea, in pieces. Tom never made it though. He was in the hospital at the time. His wife is talking about getting him another dog soon hoping that’ll help him get better.”
“Yea, it might,” said Jim.