hUMOR For Aug. 8th

"Don't worry, I can stay out late tonight," Joe told his

friend Bob. "My wife's gone for a two-week vacation in the

Caribbean."

"Jamaica?" Bob asked.

"No, it was her idea."

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Math Symbols

While reviewing math symbols with my second-grade pupils, I

drew a greater-than ( > ) and a less-than sign ( < ) on the

chalkboard and asked, "Does anyone remember what these

mean?"

A few moments passed, and then a boy confidently raised his

hand. "One means fast-forward," he exclaimed, "and the other

means rewind!"

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Buckets of Bits

100 Buckets of Bits
100 buckets of bits on the bus
100 buckets of bits

Take one down, short it to ground
FF buckets of bits on the bus
FF buckets of bits on the bus
FF buckets of bits

Take one down, short it to ground
FE buckets of bits on the bus

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Missing Boots

With tears in his eyes, a little boy told his teacher that he could not find his snow boots. The teacher took him by the hand and walked into the coat room.

"There's your boots!" she exclaimed, pointing at the only pair of boots that were there.

"But those are not MY boots!" the little boy wailed.

"Are you sure?" the teacher asked.

"I'm sure!" he sobbed. "Mine had SNOW on them!"

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THE OLD PHONE

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was 'Information Please' and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, b ut there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. 'Information, please' I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.

'Information.'

'I hurt my finger...' I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

'Isn't your mother home?' came the question.

'Nobody's home but me,' I blubbered.

'Are you bleeding?' the voice asked.

'No,' I replied. 'I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.'

'Can you open the icebox?' she asked.

I said I could.

'Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,' said the voice.

After that, I called 'Information Please' for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day befo re, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, 'Information Please' and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, 'Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?'

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ' Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.'

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone and called, 'Information Please.'
<>'Information,' said in the now familiar voice.

'How do I spell fix?' I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much. 'Information Please' belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, 'Information Please.'

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. 'Information.'

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, 'Could you please tell me how to spell fix?'

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, 'I guess your finger must have healed by now.'

I laughed, 'So it's really you,' I said. 'I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during th at time?'

I wonder,' she said, 'if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.'

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

'Please do', she said. 'Just ask for Sally.'

Three months later I was back in Seattle . A different voice answered, 'Information.' I asked for Sally.

'Are you a friend?' she said.

'Yes, a very old friend,' I answered.

'I'm sorry to have to tell you this,' she said. 'Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.'

Before I could hang up she said, 'Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?'

'Yes.' I answered.

'Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.

Let me read it to you.' The note said, 'Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean.'

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Neve r underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Whose life have you touched today?

Why not pass this on? I just did....

Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for.

Life is a journey ... NOT a guided tour.

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Strange Problem

A guy goes to a psychiatrist. "Doc, I keep having these alternating recurring dreams. First I'm a teepee; then I'm a wigwam; then I'm a teepee; then I'm a wigwam. It's driving me crazy. What's wrong with me?"

The doctor replies: "It's very simple. You're two tents."

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Ultimate Question

Scientists were preparing an experiment to ask the ultimate question.

They had worked for months gathering one each of every computer that was built. Finally the big day was at hand. All the computers were linked together. They asked the question, "IS THERE A GOD?"

Suddenly there was a loud crash, and in a brilliant explosion of silicon and plastic the computers fused into what appeared to the scientists to be one large computer in place of the many smaller ones.

One of the scientists raced to the printer as it finally output its answer. "There is now", read the printout.

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Loud, Mad, or Sad

The psychology instructor had just finished a lecture on mental health and was giving an oral test.

Speaking specifically about manic depression, she asked, "How would you diagnose a patient who walks back and forth screaming at the top of his lungs one minute, then sits in a chair weeping uncontrollably the next?"

A young man in the rear raised his hand and answered, "A basketball coach?"