Well, the deer season is still underway as I write and I’m still “venison-less.” It’s my own fault for taking such a nonchalant approach to deer hunting in my old age. If I put more effort into it, I’d probably had my deer.
As it is, all I’ve shot was an unobservant coyote that wandered in front of my ground blind. Also, the “Patient Duo” of neighborhood brothers finally scored two evenings ago. The older brother harvested his first deer — a doe so fat that I have no idea what she’d been eating. Must have been out of a corn crib. I wuz happy for the young man because all the venison will be devoured by his extended family in short order.
I like giving Christmas gifts, but I do not enjoy Christmas gift shopping. As per normal, I ain’t bought a single gift for anyone yet, but the calendar will force me into shopping soon.
Here’s a funny I liked. The owner of an agribusiness wuz approached by one of his women employees who adamantly stated, “Sir, all the other women in this company are suing you for groping and fondling. Since you haven’t done that to me. I’m suing you for discrimination.”
Two old farmers were sitting in the local bar and grill jawing about how tough it is these days to make their retirement incomes stretch through the month to pay for all their everyday needs.
After a few beers, one of the pair said if things didn’t start looking up soon, he might have to go on the Medicare G plan.
“Medicare G? Never heard of it. How does that work,” his buddy asked.
The first old guy replied, “Say you can no longer take care of yourself and need long-term-care, but the government says there is no nursing home care available for you. That’s when you opt for Medicare Part G. The plan gives anyone 75 or older a gun (Medicare Part G. The G stands for gun) and one bullet. You use that one bullet to shoot one worthless politician, pedophile, terrorist, etc.
“This means you will be sent to prison for the rest of your life where you will receive three meals a day, a roof over your head, central heating and air conditioning, cable TV, a library, gym, and all the health care you need. Need new teeth? No problem. Need glasses? That’s great. Need a hearing aid, new hip, knees, kidney, lungs, sex change, or heart? They are all covered!
“As an added bonus, your kids can come and visit you at least as often as they do now!
“And, who will be paying for all of this? The same government that just told you it can’t afford for you to go into a nursing home. And now, because you are a prisoner, you don’t have to pay any more income taxes! Is this a great country or what?”
I have to say, that’s a novel way to solve the Long-Term Care problem.
I thought about going to the effort to pen a new Christmas poem, but I only thought about it for a second before discarding the idea.
Then, lo’, out of the blue my Colorado friend Jerry Sutliff mailed me a Christmas poem with instructions to use it if I wanted to. Well, I do, and here goes:
CHRISTMAS EVE STYLE
It seems like every year brings changes
In the fashions we’re expected to wear.
But, Santa never updates any of his clothes.
I guess old Santa Claus just doesn’t care.
For centuries he’s stayed with basic red
Trimmed with white, as everyone knows.
He seems quite content to continue wearing
The same old familiar Christmas clothes.
Santa avoids expensive electronics, too,
And his transportation is always the same.
Never changing or updating his open sleigh,
Powered by reindeer he knows by name.
Santa doesn’t own a radio or TV set
Bombarding him daily with automobile ads
Telling him he’d be happier with a new van.
He’s content with the sleigh he’s always had.
There isn’t anyone around to tell him
He should only eat foods labeled “fat free.”
So, he continues eating the foods he enjoys
And lives his life as content as can be.
(I’ve taken the liberty of adding one more verse)
So, perhaps we should all be like Santa,
And not get discouraged, or mad,
If we did’t get a sack full of new Christmas stuff,
And just be happy with what we already had.
Enuf drivel for one week. Have a good ‘un.