Category: Anecdotes

Short recollections of life’s lighter moments

A customer comes up to me – a customer service rep at a supermarket – with a can of table salt. Read More ➥

Always keep a big quiet man as one of your friends

I remember ages ago I was at my cousin’s watching football with a few of his friends. Read More ➥

Seems there was an orchestra, with a master Violinist in first chair. In the midst of final rehearsal for a grand exposition of powerful music, a bizarre dissonance was heard. Read More ➥

"Dear Jeanne: While walking my dog (strange things always seem to happen when I'm walking my dog), I came upon a black van parked near my neighbor Jeanne's house. There were a couple of goons wearing wraparound shades studying your sick maple tree." Read More ➥

I live next door to a lovely lady who is a music professor at our local university. During the year she takes time to lead workshops, give recitals, and appear as a guest artist in various orchestras around the world. Read More ➥

LATE FOR THE TRAIN: This guy usually drives up the road around midnight in a car whose muffler has seen better days, with high beams on looking for an empty site. Drives around two or three times, finally settles on site across the road. Proceeds to fire up at least two Coleman kerosene lanterns, creating daylight conditions for 30 yards in each direction. Read More ➥

One of my favs..."Why did the chicken cross the road? To show armadillos it can be done".:) Read More ➥

Back in the 50s when I was in Jr. High in Los Altos, the town had a Dad’s Club for men. Their main purpose was to put on a charitable musical revue each year called the Fathers’ Frolics. The cast was liberally filled with well-known local businessmen, teachers, doctors and regular dads. I really enjoyed going to these and watching these normally-staid and serious men display their musical and comedic talents. The whole thing was run by a theatre guy named Leroy Stransky. Read More ➥

I want to know exactly what "delicately seasoned" means. Read More ➥

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“You fellas might remember that I was sent over to the IBM facility in Croydon, south of London” I began, as the customary reprobates were sitting around our usual table in The Scruffy Dog. Today there was Little Joe, still hiding from the sheriff, Lois, our guardian angel who helped keep the tone polite, Shortie, who worked at the Bar None ranch out of town and who was sloughing off when he was supposed to be bringing a load of feed for the goats, and Nils, our token Skanda-who-vian, who hails from somewhere north of the Arctic Circle. Read More ➥