Scams – definition – to separate you from your money

We have all received them. The telephone call at the precise time we sit down for the evening meal. A breathless voice saying, “How are you this evening. This is Sandy with Pot-O-Gold and I am calling to advise you that you could be next in line to win $1,000,000.00. All you have to do is apply for our Pot-O-Gold charge card and you may become our next millionaire. The fee is only $39.95 per month with a low interest rate of 47%. Isn’t that great? To qualify, just send your SS number along with your bank account number to us at P.O. Box XXX and we’ll do the rest.” — Sound familiar? It gets worse.
Whenever we purchase a new appliance, there is a registration form enclosed in the package that must be returned to validate our warranty. These forms seek all kinds of information about us. Things like how much our income is and what we plan to buy next. This is apparently the source of big revenue. Even the Department of Motor Vehicles has gotten into the act by selling names and addresses from their lists of automobile registrations. They have, however, offered a form that when filled out and returned to DMV will remove our names from the list to be sold. Why should we be the ones to go to this trouble? They initiated the form, right?
As irritating as telemarketing calls are, there are other unsolicited calls that are nothing more than malicious attempts to dig into our wallets.  These calls are made by unscrupulous individuals who prey on our compassion for the sole purpose of lining their own pockets.
Several weeks ago my wife answered the telephone (you guessed it, at dinner time). The speaker identified himself as a member of the North Carolina Highway Patrol. He inquired as to whether or not she believed in capital punishment and would send literature in return for a donation to a fund established for the families of slain officers. Fearing the worse, my wife asked the person to send the information and she would then make a decision as to whether, and how much, to donate. The caller became indignant and hung up. A later call to the Highway Patrol revealed that they do NOT make telephone solicitations.
Shortly afterward, I received a call from a lady claiming to be a representative of “Make a Wish Foundation.” She requested that I make a donation of ten dollars or more to fulfill the last wish of a terminally ill child. Her tearful request fell on deaf ears since I had recently read that the legitimate “Make a Wish Foundation” (again) does NOT solicit funds via the telephone.
While I am in favor of helping veritable charities, it disturbs me that there are people who make a career of targeting those of us who, on a regular basis, experience “too much month left over at the end of the money.”

If you receive any of these calls, ask for sufficient identification and tell them you will return their call after verifying. If they refuse, simply hang up. Please don’t become a victim.
John

In memory of —

Bubba and Bobby Jule decided to drive Bubba’s pickup down to The Short Snort Cafe & Pool Hall to enjoy a couple of long-neck Miller Hi-Lifes. They were dismayed when they discovered that the truck’s battery was dead. Neither was willing to exert the energy to push the truck to start it.

It was fortunate that Billy Bob chose this particular moment to carry a garbage bag full of empty beer cans from his trailer next door to the growing pile of debris that had accumulated alongside the road .

“Hey, Billy Bob; give us a push and jump in the back and we’ll go to The Short Snort!” yelled Bobby Jule.

Unwilling to miss a ride to the notorious Short Snort, and possibly a free beer, Billy Bob quickly complied and succeeded in rolling the truck down the rutted driveway. When Bubba popped the clutch, the engine roared to life and Billy Bob was hard-pressed to climb over the fender, but he was finally seated on the spare tire in the back of the truck.

Now, Bubba was widely known for his inability to safely control a vehicle and when they started across the bridge, he ran off the road and into the river. The truck immediately sank to the bottom much like The Titanic.

Bubba and Bobby Jule opened the doors and swam to safety but Billy Bob, bless his heart, he drowned.

Scroll down.

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Are you ready for this?

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Are you sure?

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HE COULDN’T GET THE TAILGATE DOWN!!!

Demijon

Glory Be!

 
How long has it been since you have heard the above words used to denote surprise or perhaps unbelief? As a child, I distinctly remember that this was about as far as a lady would go toward the use of profanity. In fact, profanity was not as widely used by men or women as it is today. There were even theater owners who considered banning the movie, “Gone With The Wind,” because of Rhett Butler’s famous response to his Scarlett.

Anyone who consistently made use of “cuss” words was branded as “rough and tumble,” “rowdy,” or even “trash.” Most men would not venture beyond “heck,” or maybe “gosh-darned,” especially when in the company of the fairer sex. Anyone who committed these blunders was in danger of being shunned by the rank and file.

An incident that brought this to my mind was a program on national television recently. To make matters worse, the individual responsible for this breach of conduct was a beautiful blonde lady who appeared very young. A comedienne, she performed before a mixed audience that apparently loved her act from the response she received.

Her material would have made me uncomfortable and quite possibly fostered a blush, had I not been alone and at home. Nevertheless, neither she nor anyone in her audience was disturbed in the least.

I am most certainly not a prude, and I most assuredly enjoy humor if it is in good taste; however, I am of the opinion that the producers of shows such as this should not allow this type of material to be broadcast in prime time or on a channel that is available to everyone.

Sure, my television has an off button, but at the time I was in such a state of shock that I could do nothing other than endure this sickening display of lewdness. I would hate to see a board of censors take control of our viewing; however, I firmly believe that this kind of programming is unsuitable on a network that has built its reputation by being family-oriented.

Needless to say, I was so taken a-back that all I could do was to sit there and repeat over and over again, the words: “GLORY BE.”

Demijons

The beginning

 
I am not exactly certain when it all began. One of my first notable observations of the major change was shortly after I had undergone surgery and was recuperating with admonitions from my doctor to avoid unnecessary exertion. This decree was unwarranted due to the fact that I was hardly capable of more than my daily walk around the block.

At this time, my wife and I were spending almost every weekend at our small farm that was located about fifty miles from our home. We were engrossed with the raising of a huge garden that we not only enjoyed but also felt necessary for our subsistence. Since I was somewhat incapacitated, my wife had gone to the farm on this particular Saturday to gather the fruits of our labors, and I was left to rest and make a feeble attempt to regain my strength.

Having taken my walk and returned extremely tired, I retreated to the comfort of my bed for a period of total preoccupation with the healing powers of sleep. I was awakened shortly thereafter by the sounds of activity in and around the house. With sleep-numbed eyes and muddled brain, I investigated and found the house filled with strangers. Young ladies engaged in dusting, moping, and the washing of clothes, dishes and various other chores. Even one was busy with the preparation of my lunch. Outside young men were mowing, clipping, painting, raking leaves, and repairing things that were in need of attention.

After spying a familiar face, I approached our son for an explanation. I was told that these strangers were members of a group of teenagers who were involved in a church sponsored project called “Young Life.”

Their involvement at our home came as a result of their commitment to “hire” themselves out to anyone in need. They expected nothing for their efforts, neither would they accept any pay for their labors. They decided that since I was “laid-up” and my wife had assumed the responsibility for any and all of the required duties, ours was a worthwhile project; therefore, they had chosen us as the recipient for this weekend’s venture. They all seemed to derive pleasure from the role of “servants.” And serve, they did.

The son continued with this work through high school and was active as a leader in Young Life throughout his college years. Little did we suspect that this “helping hand” perspective as a teenager would lead to his chosen profession as a minister.

Through the benefits of loans and part-time work, he entered and graduated from Princeton Theological Seminary, earning a master’s degree. I suppose that the training he received there played a part in his ability to relate to others on their own level, but his major attributes are found in his enormous energies. His unique and sometimes unorthodox methods of teaching and leading have gained for him prominence in the field of religious education.

His belief that he can indeed make changes by demonstration rather than merely oration has achieved for him respect, even among his peers, for his competence as a leader as well as a teacher. Seeing a need and doing something about it is what has done much to transform this typical teenager into the dynamic minister who still adheres to these beliefs, and;

The rest is history.

John

Th’ ‘Partment Store

T’other day, me an’ Susie Mae driv down to that thare place whot they call th’ Mall. Now, Susie Mae, she gits in such a all-fired dither whenst we’uns go to one of them thare places, she pert’ near goes wild. We’s a’strollin’ ’round, mindin’ our’n own business an’ Susie Mae commenced a’pintin’ an’ she sez, “Jay Henry, honey, would you jus’ lookee over yonder. They’s a feller over thare in one uv them winders, a’takin’ th’ dress offen that thare womern an’ she ain’t got nary a stitch on under hit.”

Fust thang I sez to her wus, “Susie Mae, I done tolt you a hunnert time ‘er more that hit ain’t perlite ta pint.” “You keep that up an’ folks a’gonna thank you ain’t never had no raisin’.” Then I ‘splained to her that them folks had them some people whot wus made outten plastic ‘er sumpin whot they put them clothes on jus’ to show ’em off an’ they called them man-i-kins. Well, Susie Mae, she pouted fer a spell an’ then she sez, “Jay Henry, honey, you’s jus’ as blind as a bat. That thare ain’t no man-i-kin. That thares a womern-i-kin.”

Now me, I wont ’bout ta’ tetch that wiff a ten foot pole so we’uns jus walked ’round some more. We come up on one uv them ‘partment stores an Susie Mae, she flung a pure-tee fit to go an’ look in thare. Hit were one uv them thare K-Marts ‘er sumpin an’ you ain’t gonna bleve all th’ stuff thay had in thare.

They wus one corner in thare whare they had put some tanks whot wus made outten glass an’ thay wus purely filled up wiff th’ pertyest lettle fish you ever laid eyes on. Susie Mae, she commenced a’takin’ a safety pin outten her brayzere an’ a’bendin’ hit an’ I axed her whot she were a’fixin to do. “I’se a’gonna holp them folks out an’ cotch them a mess uv them thare fish,” she sez.

I drug her outten thare jus’ ‘fore that thare police come in an we’uns went on somers else to look. Atter while, I commenced a’gittin’ hongary. We’uns rounded a corner in that thare place an we come up on a eatin’ place what they called a food court. I tolt her that we’uns could git us sompin to eat thare and she kinda grinned an’ sez, “Jay Henry, honey, we’uns ain’t courted none in nigh on ta’ twenty years an’ I ain’t ’bout ta start back up now. ‘Sides, these hear folks be’s crazy as bedbugs, they ain’t even no jedge in that thare court.”

Atter I satisfyed her that this here were a place to eat, we’uns got us some hot dogs an’ a bellywasher an’ went on. Susie Mae, she wonted to git her a new lamp chimbley. She had broke th’ old one more’n a week ago and she had been complainin’ ever since ’bout th’ lamp a’smokin. We’uns finally fount a store whot said LAMPS an’ we’uns went in. A perty young gal come up to us an’ sez, “May I help you?” Susie Mae sez, “No’m, we’uns don’t need no help, we’uns jus wonts us a lamp chimbly.” “Is your lamp a G.E.?” that gal axed. “No’m, hits a karesene,” Susie Mae sez. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of that brand of lamp,” the gal sez. Susie mae, she flew hot an’ she sez, “Lets us go, Jay Henry, honey, these here folks don’t know nothin’. We’uns’ll jus’ order us one frum th’ catalog.”

Whenst I finally got her outten that mall an’ usens come on back to th’ shack, Susie Mae, she sez, “I knowed we’uns orten to of went down thare, all them thare folks ack like theys been drapped on they head whenst they wus younguns. They jus’ ain’t got no sense. I bet they ain’t nary a one uv ’em whot learnt nothin’ frum bein’ ’round folks whot be’s as refined an’ cultured as we’uns be’s.”

Now, y’all got to ‘member that Susie Mae, she wont nothin’ like as refined and cultured ‘til up to th’ time her daddy begged me so much ’til I married up wiff her an’ made sompin’ outten her.

Jay Henry

Arrangments

A favorite expression of my father was, “I don’t do business, I simply make arrangements.” This was his way of stating that he lacked sufficient monies to conduct business in the usual sense of the word. Arrangements meant to either cajole an officer of the bank into a loan or else to work up a trade for whatever item was needed.

This has been, more or less, a way of life for me as well.  Although I have been fortunate enough to provide for the necessities, there was never enough money available to squander. When a car gave out, a trade was negotiated and payments were made on any balance. The bank account, if not overdrawn, was usually down to pennies before the next paycheck.

One thing that my wife and I thought we could not afford during the early years of our marriage was health insurance. The importance of this was revealed to us in no uncertain terms when we were expecting our first child. I distinctly remember that the cost of delivery for this child was a whopping $150.00 and the hospital bill was an astronomical $107.95.

We dined on potatoes, beans and cornbread for quite a while before we managed to save this amount but finally in November 1954 we brought our son home, completely paid for. Needless to say, we began to shop for insurance immediately thereafter. The small premiums each month was much easier on our limited budget.

I do not remember the cost when our second son was born since we were only required to pay a portion of the bill, but I am sure that in 1958 the cost had risen substantially.

During their growing years we continually had an outstanding balance at the office of our pediatrician. It seemed that when we came close to paying the balance, another trauma would ensue and we were back to square one. Fortunate for us, however, he was a kind and understanding doctor who did not press for immediate payment from any of his patients. He simply accepted arrangements.

Today the children have successful careers and we have entered the world of retirement. However, we have not forgotten the days of arrangements, and because of this we are able to cope with life on a limited income. Hopefully, our children can remember enough of their youth to appreciate their success and realize that the necessity of making arrangements is sometimes unavoidable.

If they have learned anything from our mistakes and have attempted to prepare for the unexpected, then perhaps they will be qualified to “do business” instead of merely “making arrangements.”

Quite possibly, this could be their only legacy.

John

I could be wrong; but I doubt it.

Lately I have experienced difficulty in understanding some of the terms that are employed by today’s “with it” generation. Perhaps there are plausible explanations for this, since they have no desire to appeal to someone who could be considered “over the hill.” Examples of the confusion which these words and terms cause me follows along with my own interpretation.

LONG DISTANCE CARRIER: The person whom you send to return the borrowed milk bucket to your grandmother who lives eight miles away.

SWEEPSTAKES: Branches from a dogwood tree that are tied together for the purpose of ridding the yard of debris.

ADDER: In addition to being a type of snake, this word can have two meanings. A. “You younguns can’t go play until adder you git yo’ lessons.” B. “Mr. Jones, I’ll pay my grocery bill if you’ll adder up.”

HARD CORE: “If you don’t watch out, you’ll break a tooth on the hard core of that pear.”

UNCALLED FOR: “Mazie put on her new dress and fixed up for her date and set there in the swing for two hours, uncalled for.”

BENIGN: “That happened last year ’cause Jethro was eight an’ he’ll benign next month.”

HEAD FOR THE MOUNTAINS: What all us flatlanders do when we take a vacation in the middle of the summer.

BYTES: What we get all over our bodies from them redbugs when the blackberries get ripe.

SOFTWARE: “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times not to put starch in my drawers.”

HARD DRIVE: “From here to Kannapolis is a hard drive in a model A. It takes most of the day.”

RAP: Instead of a type of music accompanied by a loud thump-thump beat, this is

what you got over the head “if you didn’t git yo’ lessons.”

Since I am definitely not considered “cool,” my only alternative is to consider that today’s youth simply “ain’t had no raising;” and strive to alleviate the inaccuracies which dominate the speech patterns of today’s society.

Reward for my diligent efforts would be to hear one young person say, “ADDER a HARD DRIVE up thare to Waxhaw, I jus’ want to take a bath, change my SOFTWARE, put some Calamine lotion on them ‘skeeter BYTES and HEAD FOR THE MOUNTAINS. Since Jethro’ll BENIGN soon, how come he can’t use th’ SWEEPSTAKES? Mazie, she’s been UNCALLED FOR, so she can be the LONG DISTANCE CARRIER. If she objects, jus’ RAP her over th’ head. Besides, I jus’ got the HARD CORE of that crab-apple stuck in my “wind-pipe.”

It’s obvious that I expect no more from others than I, myself, am willing to give. After all…

It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.

Jay Henry

DENFINITIONS – Webster didn’t know

PRONOUNCE SLOWLY

ARBITRATOR – A cook that leaves Arby’s to work at Burger King.

AVOIDABLE: – What a bullfighter tried to do.

BERNADETTE: – The act of torching a mortgage.

BURGLARIZE: – What a crook sees with.

COUNTERFEITERS: – Workers who put together kitchen cabinets.

ECLIPSE: – What an English barber does for a living.

EYEDROPPER: – A clumsy ophthalmologist.

HEROES: – What a guy in a boat does.

LEFTBANK: – What the robber did when his bag was full of money.

MISTY: – How golfers create divots.

PARASITES: – What you see from the Eiffel Tower.

PHARMACIST: – A helper on the farm.

PRIMATE: – Removing your spouse from in front of the television.

RELIEF: – What trees do in the spring.

RUBBERNECK: – What you do to relax your wife.

SELFISH : – What the owner of a seafiood store does.

SUDAFED: – What you did when you brought litigation against a government official.

I sincerely hope you have learned something.

Demijon

Been There – Done That, and forgot it all

I sit in my recliner and dream of places to go and things to do. With a road map at the ready and countless brochures scattered around, I plan mini-vacations to exotic locales only to be reminded by my child bride of fifty-three years that we have visited these sites in past years.

Discussions (sometimes heated) arise over the when and where of those trips, and I am informed that I suffer from an acute case of C.R.S. Since my wife possesses a mind like a steel trap, she does her best to convince me that the place in question was where she discovered those rare earrings and that favorite tee shirt. “Besides,” she states, “who wants to wander around and look at rusted farm equipment?

“If you are determined to go somewhere, we could shop the new mall.” If you are familiar with my wife’s way of thinking, you must realize that her interpretation of Heaven on Earth is the grand opening of any kind of store with everything reduced by 50%.

Rejection of my elaborate plans to attend a Bluegrass Festival is accompanied by, “You’ve seen one. Isn’t that enough?” Or “I can’t stand that whiny singing. Why don’t we invite Jean and Dave to go with us to the shoe outlet? I am sure that they have many new styles to choose from since we were there.”

Despondent, I return to the maps and brochures hoping against hope that “Pedro’s Alligator Farm” will spark enough interest for at least a Maybe. My conniving brain begins to work overtime and I arrive at the conclusion that the only solution to this major dilemma would be to find a unique attraction that also includes a series of outlet shops on or near the premises.

Ahh. At last, the perfect place. Junior’s Used Auto Parts and Hardware Emporium,” located next door to Faye’s Tee Shirts and Jewelry Bazaar. Here is reason enough for anticipation to replace the ultimate dismissal of an idea as so much folly. This is serious business. Having never shopped at Faye’s, she even becomes excited. “I’ll call Jean to find out which day would be convenient with her,” she says.

Not even the usual, “You’ve been there, done that and forgot,” sallied forth as she began to make lists of the things that she absolutely could not live without. Perhaps the closest she would come to admitting that the idea had merit was the remark that; “Maybe you can find a starter for your truck and we will not have to push it. Now, drive over and get Jean while I figure out which credit card is not maxed out.”

Demijon

On being different

I used to be like you. There was hardly any difference at all. When a friend expounded on the virtues of the new Backfire LX, I began foaming at the mouth, my breath came in gasps, my heart rate quickened and I was off to the dealership with checkbook in hand. I gave little thought to the fact that I still had 14 payments left on the 1971 Pinto, not counting the balloon note.

As soon as the freight truck had delivered and unloaded my payment book (with a fork lift), this same friend mentioned his latest acquisition, the Mow-Ease, turbo-drive riding lawnmower. With glazed eyes, I glanced through the payment book for my Sears push mower and rationalized that since it held fewer pages than their catalog, I just might swing it. By now, the truck driver with the fork lift had become a personal friend.

My wife, being the conservative of the family, made a futile attempt to limit her purchases to smaller items such as dresses, tee shirts and shoes. It was not unusual for her to disintegrate a credit card in one day of shopping. All of the mail order companies had long since memorized our credit card number. Her only requirement was to dial the 1-800 number and say, “Hello Amy, this is Sue. I need item number 276.”

We did not become alarmed until we noticed that our mail carrier was attaching a one-dollar bill to our stack of final notices along with a note stating that he would try to donate more when he got paid. If, by chance, family members visited, it became customary to leave behind a few dollars, especially if they had opened the refrigerator.

Even Henry, the nice man whose job was to repossess unpaid for merchandise, offered to report that his sources revealed that we had moved to Brazil. He often removed the tow-bar from his truck before arriving at our house because it upset my wife.

Suddenly, it became evident to us that we were in deep trouble. We vowed to limit our purchases to the items that we desperately needed and unless it was a dire emergency, never buy anything when we could not pay cash. We were determined to be different. The items that heretofore had lost their luster, now performed better than ever. Last years fashions became more comfortable. We even adopted an attitude of sympathy for those who could not bear the thoughts of being without the latest technology.

When someone refers to any new and improved merchandise, we now respond with, “Ahh, yes, but they don’t make them like they used to.”

Perhaps we are too dumb to understand the inner workings of high finance, but strange things happened immediately following our last payments on all of the past due bills. We began to receive letters from the same banks, credit card companies, and mail order firms who had threatened us with harm some months before, to-wit, “This offer is extended for the exclusive use of our customers with excellent credit. We have raised the limits on your credit card, personal loans, etc., simply because we value you as a member in good standing within our institution.”

To add insult to injury, our bank statement included a service charge of $30.00 on the month following the shredding all of the invitations offering to increase the limits on our charge card. An officer at the bank explained the $30.00 as a monthly maintenance charge payable to the bank because we refused to take advantage of their gold-plated, diamond-encrusted, platinum, credit card offer. He even suggested that our friends and neighbors might laugh at us or avoid us completely unless we had their card in our wallets.

Please allow me to say that they are wasting their time with their generous offers. We have fought the fight, and lost. We have, at last, dared to be different.

Can they re-posses our wallets if we do not pay the maintenance fee?

Demijon