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ULPIT I1UMOR

cause it's no sin to Laugh in Church.


MAY, 1988


 


Good Friend;

May is my favorite month of the year. With flowers in bloom, warmth in the air, and Mother's Day on the 8th . . .


 It had been a great Saturday on the baseball field, and the two ten-year-old boys were wandering home. "Do you wanna play baseball again tomorrow?" the first boy asked. "I can't," replied the second. "Tomorrow is Mother's Day ... my favorite day of the year." "What's so great about Mother's Day?" asked the first boy. "Well, answered the second fellow, "I always buy my Mom a little gift with my own money, and that really makes her happy. Then I make sure I'm super nice to her all day. And my Dad and I take her to a nice restaurant for dinner." "That doesn't sound like much fun to me," said the first boy. "Well, it's not a whole bunch of fun," replied the second lad, "but after a day like that, I find that Mother's Day evening is the best time of the whole year to ask my Mom for an increase in my allowance."

Along those same lines . . .

Six-year-old Johnny and his four-year-old sister Susy presented Mom with her Mother's Day present ... a small and spindly house plant. While it wasn't the finest looking specimen, they had bought it with their own money and Mom was thrilled. She hugged and kissed her children, and told them she loved them for thinking of her. "There was some other flowers we wanted to buy for you, Mom," said Johnny, "but we didn't have enough money." "Yea," said sister Susy, "they had a real nice bunch of flowers at the shop that we were going to buy you." "But I love this plant," said the happy mother. "I know, Mom," said Johnny, "but these flowers would have been perfect for you. They were in a wreath and they had a ribbon that said 'Rest in Peace' on it, and you're always asking for a little peace so you can rest."


 

Two ladies in their thirties met on the street one day in early May. "This Sun­day is Mother's Day," said the first lady. "What do you have planned to do with your mother?" "Well, my husband and I usually have Mom over to the house and we have a special dinner," replied the second. "What do you do for your Mother?" she asked. "I always try to ensure that my mother has a day to remember on Mother's Day," answered the first lady. "I try to buy her a gift that I think she will enjoy, then we take her to a restaurant that she likes. And after dinner, just to put the finishing touch on a perfect day, I do something that I know she will just love ... I tell her about a problem that I have and I ask her for her advice on solving it."

The Joy of Motherhood can be described as: "What a Mother experiences when all the kids are finally asleep in bed."

The first Saturday in May is the biggest day of the year in the state of Kentucky; it's the Kentucky Derby held at Churchill Downs. This year's 'Run for the Roses' will go on May 7th ...

Which reminds me of the story of the Kentucky Colonel who was in New York City to testify in a court case. It seems that the Colonel had been vacationing in New York earlier in the year and had witnessed a traffic accident. He now found himself compelled to appear in court, much to his chagrin. He quickly made it evi­dent to the court that he did not care for New York City and all the formal legal processes that accompanied this case. "Why in Kentucky," drawled the Colonel, "we settle these matters quickly. We don't feel the need to go through all this hoopla to decide who was in the right and who was in the wrong." By now, the judge had heard enough of this and he decided it was time to put this Kentuckyian in his place. "Tell me something," the judge said, looking at the witness. "They call you 'Colonel.' Now, in just what regiment of the Army are you a Colonel?" The man from Ken­tucky looked right back at the judge and drawled, "Well sir, it's like this. The 'Colonel' in front of my name is the same as the 'Honorable' in front of yours ... it doesn't mean a darned thing!"

"I envy the owner of the horse that wins the Kentucky Derby," one fellow said to his co-worker one day. "Imagine what it must be like to have a 3-year-old that has earned millions of dollars?"   "I can only imagine what it would  be  like,"


answered the second fellow. "I've got an eighteen-year-old who still hasn't earned his FIRST dollar!"

Speaking about horses reminds me of a story that tells us something about people's shallow desires for materialistic things . . .

A man from the city had recently decided to 'give up on the rat-race', and he sold his big, suburban home and bought a small hobby farm in the country. His first order of business was to purchase a horse; horse-back riding would surely sooth his ragged nerves. After spending considerable time driving around the country look­ing for a suitable mount, he saw an animal that he fancied standing in a farmer's field. This new 'gentleman farmer' approached the local and asked him if the horse would be for sale. "Sure he's for sale," replied the farmer. "Well, how much do you want for him?" asked the prospective buyer. "How does three thousand dollars sound?" replied the farmer. "That's absurd," replied the buyer. "I'll give you five hundred dollars for him and not a penny more." "Well, that's a heck of a discount," said the seller, "but I'll take it." As the buyer counted out the money, he couldn't resist asking the farmer why he had settled for five hundred dollars when he had started out asking for six times that amount. "Well," drawled the farmer, "you being from the big city and all; I just thought that maybe you'd had your heart set on owning a three thousand dollar horse."

I'm going to my high school re-union (never mind how many years) this month. May seems to be the most popular month of the year for these affairs . . .

A fellow was returning to his old university for a twenty year reunion. He had been very successful in the world of business and he felt that he owed a great deal of his success to his old economics professor. Economics, he felt, had been the foundation for all his business success and he looked forward to telling his old pro­fessor this. The alumnus had no difficulty finding the professor; he was still using the same room after all these years. After shaking hands and extending warm greetings to each other, the two men sat down to visit. The professor was eager to hear how the former student had done in life, and the alumnus was quick to tell him that his success was due to his sound knowledge in the basics of economics. "Well thank you," the teacher said, "I'm glad to hear that my teaching hasn't been in vain all these years. Sometimes in this profession you wonder if anything you say sinks in." Motioning towards a large stack of unmarked examinations, the professor said, "I've got another large group I've been teaching this year. These are their final exams." The businessman casually picked up the first examination paper on the top of the pile and looked at it briefly. "I don't believe it," said the startled fellow. "Those are the same questions you asked on the final exam when I was in school."


"Sure they are," replied the professor. "I ask the same questions every year." "Well, don't you think that these students pass the questions along to the next class the next year?" asked the former student. "Sure they do," replied the teacher. "But that's they beauty of teaching economics ... we just change the answers."

A class reunion is where everybody gets together to see who is falling apart.

May 's also the month when the Indianapolis 500 is conducted . . .

"I can't for the life of me understand what is so great about this Indianapolis 500 stuff," said one housewife to another. "They make a big hero out of the driver who is the first one to travel 500 miles by driving continuously in circles. If you ask me, all this Indianapolis 500 is, is a speeded up version of what I do in the station wagon chauffeuring the kids around."

The first long weekend of the summer season is Memorial Day Weekend. This year Memorial Day is on May 30th. It signifies the start of camping season . . .

 family station wagon was loaded to the hilt when it pulled into the only re- maining campsite. No sooner had the vehicle pulled to a stop, when out jumped six children who immediately began working to unload the station wagon and pitch the family tent. No sooner was the tent up, and the three boys ran off to gather firewood; the three girls set up the camp stove and the cooking utensils. In no time flat, they had a campfire roaring and all the equipment in place. A nearby camper had watched the whole procedure, and he felt compelled to compliment the parents on his organization. "That was a super display of teamwork," the visitor said to the father and mother. "Well, we have a system," replied the father. "We have just travelled 150 miles from our home and we have one simple rule when we get here . . . nobody goes to the bathroom until camp is set up."

"Where are you guys going for the Memorial Day long weekend?" one Mother asked another. "We are going to the cabin for three days," replied the second. "But I've taken the whole week off from work." "What are you going to do for the rest of the week?" said the first. "Well," replied the second Mother, "two days to unpack the car and three days to do the laundry should about take care of it."

PULPIT HUMOR — PUBLISHED 12 TIMES A YEAR — IS A NEWSLETTER DESIGNED AND EDITED SPECIFICALLY FOR
__________ USE BY MEMBERS OF THE CLERGY. SUBSCRIPTION FEE — $35.00 PER YEAR._________

© Copyright 1987                                                                                                                 BOX 1584, OROVILLE, WASHINGTON 98844

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