Last week ol’ Nevah and I went to Villisca and Red Oak, Iowa, to honor the long and productive life of “Bud,” a 95-year-old friend, farmer, superior horseman and horse breeder, multiple-honored World War II veteran, and survivor of the Battle of the Bulge in Germany.
Like most of The Greatest Generation, Bud came home from the war to put his war experiences behind him and focus on the future — raising four great children and numerous fine Quarter Horses.
His funeral was touching for me as it featured pictures of Bud and his family and horses. His well-used saddle, bridle, rope and Stetson sat on a saddle-tree beside his casket. And as a final farewell and tribute, a friend brought a Quarter Horse to the cemetery and it stood quietly in the background during the military folding of the flag and the playing of Taps. (OK, it flinched at the gun salute.)
I feel the entire ceremony would have met with Bud’s high approval. His passing, sadly, has winnowed the number of WWII veterans that I personally know down to one — my uncle in Mt. Vernon, Mo.
We owe that generation of Americans so much. It distresses me how little the current generation understands, or appreciates, the debt of gratitude we own the members of that generation.
After the funeral, Nevah and I continued on to the Madrid/Boone, Iowa, area to overnight with my sheep shearing buddy, ol’ Nick deHyde and his lovely wive Tanna.
We did what old friends always do when we get together — ate too much and visited well into the night.
During our short stay, we saw other old friends, kids and grandkids. Second in fun wuz participating in the “Festival of Racing” at the Prairie Meadows Race Track and Casino in Altoona, Ia. A whole group of us, including some hoss racing newbies, tried our best to improve our off-work incomes. I’m happy to say that I left the track with $30 in profits. That’s about $100 more than usual.
On our way home, we overnighted with ol’ Canby and May Bea Handy in Platte City, Mo. Sunday breakfast wuz a treat as Canby’s son-in-law and daughter opened a new dining establishment near the Kansas City Airport named Scott’s Kitchen. Sunday morning wuz their trial run with family and friends before the official opening on Monday morning. I’ll give the breakfast menu a 5-star rating.
I keep reading about all the movie stars who try to put a guilt trip on cattle ranchers for raising bovines, which regularly emit methane gas into the atmosphere and, according to the stars, contribute mightily to global warming.
That got me to thinking about those movie stars when they eat Mexican food with a helping of refried beans. I wonder if they get the same guilt trip when they contribute methane gas into the atmosphere? I sure don’t see them protesting Mexican food for contributing to global warming.
A rural husband/wife team built a successful farm supply bizness. Their biggest problem was finding reliable employees to supplement their personal labor in the biz. All the young folks they hired turned out to be impertinent whippersnappers.
So, one day the husband put up a bold sign in the employees’ break room that read: “I AM THE BOSS HERE.”
The next morning he sauntered into the break room for coffee and saw this sign beneath his sign: “YOUR WIFE WANTS HER SIGN BACK!”
A well-off farmer sent his only daughter to an expensive eastern university and gave her a months-long graduation trip to Australia. Eventually he got this letter from her:
“Dear Dad: I am coming home to get married soon, so get out your check book. LOL. I’m in love with a boy who is far away from me. He lives in Scotland. We met on a dating website, became friends on Facebook, had long chats on Whatsapp. He proposed to me on Skype and we’ve carried on our relationship through Viber. My beloved and favorite, Dad, I need your blessing, good wishes and a really big wedding. Lots of love and thanks. Your favorite daughter, Megan “
The farmer wrote back to his beloved daughter:
“My dear Megan, Like Wow! Really? Cool! Whatever! I suggest you two get married on Twitter, have fun on Tango, buy your kids on Amazon, and pay for it all through Paypal. And when you get fed up with this new husband, sell him on eBay!.
Your loving, Dad”
I got by with my political limericks last week. So here’s another one to end this column.
Liberals think they’re “adorables,”
And conservatives “a basket of deplorables.”
But they need to rehearse,
Putting their thoughts in reverse.
Because their thinking, at best, is horrible.
Take a gallon of sun screen to the field with you and have a good ‘un.