I usually wait until the end of the week to write my columns because I’m expecting a good story to come my way accidentally.
Well, this week I got more of an “accidental” story than I wanted when my brother-in-law, ol’ Charl Lay, ended up in the hospital after a “4-wheeler cattle drive” went south (actually end for end) and bro ended up laying on a rocky slope with a broken left leg.
The crew with him stabilized his leg and got him air-lifted to the hospital by medi-copter.
I went into the hospital to see him after he’d been admitted and he wuz in good spirits — at least as good as could be expected for a cowboy with a broken leg and various bumps, bruises and strains.
It wuz only a few months ago that Charl retired from his non-farm job to spend full time with his family, cattle, and ranch.
I laughed and told him that the accident wuz sent as a not-so-subtle message to take his foot off the accelerator of life and coast every once in a while.
That’s just the opposite situation from mine where I need to quit coasting and hit the foot-feed of work more often. But, it’s so much easier to just take a nap and think about working.
This is a story about an old shepherd who had spent the summer alone in the mountains herding a big flock of sheep.
Deep into the chilly fall, he drove the flock down the mountain and back to the ranch headquarters. When he got his part of the ranch’s sheep well situated, the old shepherd checked into the warm bunkhouse with the other ranch hands.
He immediately got the attention of their olfactory senses because the old shepherd was way past the time he needed a bath, disinfectant, and a change of clothes.
When the old feller ignored the hands’ request that he attend to his personal hygiene immediately, the crew took matters into its own hands. Some guys started preparing the bath tub while the rest mobbed the old shepherd and started stripping away his aromatically-offensive duds.
The old shepherd’s resistance wuz no match for the crew and he soon found himself stripped down to his trap-door long-johns. When the crew started stripping him down to his birthday suit, they were shocked to discover a heavy woolen sweat-encrusted sweater beneath his long-johns.
That’s when the old shepherd got wide-eyed and exclaimed, “So that’s where my sweater is. I’ve been looking for it ever since that late snowstorm last spring!”
A retired Coloradoan finished his shower, put on his robe, and started watering the house plants, which included a few cacti.
A wardrobe malfunction happened and the feller accidentally acquired a few cactus spines in a sensitive area.
He decided to keep the whole thing a secret. but that ploy got blown away with his wife came home and caught him with a magnifying glass and some tweezers carefully picking away the cactus spines.
Thankfully, his wife couldn’t (or wouldn’t) keep such an accident secret and soon all his family and friends knew what happened.
And, now so do a lot of strangers.
My friend Jay Esse from Colorado tells me that when he wuz young, he would hunt for deer a lot. Now that’s he’s old like me, he spends a lot of time hunting for bathrooms.
I can’t believe that “my” Kansas City Royals will be playing in the World Series. I didn’t think I’d life long enuf to see it happen again … after 29 long-suffering years.
Plus, they won the American League pennant by winning eight playoff games in a row.
I don’t know when the Baseball Gods will quit dealing favorably with the Royals, but I don’t care. Regardless of how the World Series turns out, ol’ Nevah and I have enjoyed the Boys in Blue this season.
The Royals play in “The K,” which is named for former owner Ewing Kaufman. Here’s a couple of interesting historical Royal facts. First, the team name came from Kansas City’s long-hosting of the American Royal Livestock Show and Exhibition.
Second, Ewing Kauffman never sold the Royals. He DONATED the club to the KC Community Foundation and the foundation ultimately sold the club to David Glass, the current owner. All the funds from the Royals sale went to the foundation for its charitable work in the community. Mr. Ewing’s focus was always on the fans and ways he could repay the community for all its support. Few professional team owners today have Mr. K’s set of values.
Hey, did you hear about the would-be terrorist who sneaked his way into the White House?
Neither did I — nor did the Secret Service! Have a good ‘un.