Category Archives: humor blog

Thanksgiving Divorce

A man in Phoenix calls his son in New York the day before Thanksgiving and says,”I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough.”

“Pop, what are you talking about?” the son screams.

“We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the father says. “We’re sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her.” read more

The Bumpity-Bump-Bump Adventure

Yesterday Jerry and I decided to go on an adventure. Getting stuck in traffic was not part of our plan. Yet, there we were. Riding in our Buick along I-10 at the speed of one-inch per hour. Our tires bumpity-bump-bumped in a slow crawl, then came to a full stop, then back to bumpity-bump-bump.

“What’s going on?” Jerry wondered. “It can’t be construction. Look at the machines. No one in them.”

Bulldozers and Genie Lifts sat idle on the side of the freeway. Our life had evolved into an endless stop and go cycle: Go-Brake-Stop-Go-Brake-Stop. read more

The Bratty Voice In My Head

Rain barreled into my world in Garden Grove, California. Puddles soaked our front yard. Mini-rivers swept down the street. Our neighbors huddled inside their homes. But my mom wouldn’t let a rainstorm stop her. She wanted a taco at Taco Lita and do some shopping at the Broadway.

At 8-years-old, I loved the rain and my mom’s suggestion we go out for tacos and shop at the Broadway sounded good to me. I put on my red, slicker rain coat and my red, rubber rain boots. My sister, age 6, got into her rain gear and we hopped into our funny little car, a Nash Metropolitan which we called the Metro. read more

Don’t Stop the Carnival

The hostess at P.F. Chang’s led us to a table. “Are you two celebrating a special occasion?” she asked as she seated me and my good friend Phyllis. “Yes, we’re celebrating life,” I said as she handed us the menus. Our hostess smiled and flitted off.

Since my 5-hour surgery for a hip replacement, I have appreciated life more than ever. My surgeon told me on one of my follow-up visits that things could have gone wrong during the surgery. I would not be writing this to you right now if it had. read more

A Sad Day at Jeepers Peepers (much revealed details of my miscommunication)

As Jerry and I drove across the serene Sonoran desert, I noticed smoke signals near the mountains on the horizon. Puffs of dirt whooshed upward toward the clouds. We know the rising dust as dust devils but they always remind me of smoke signals. I said to Jerry, “Just think. Before email or telephones, Native American tribes used smoke signals for (long-distant) communication. I wonder if they ever had miscommunication? Maybe three puffs of smoke meant ‘we’re doing well’ and four puffs of smoke meant ‘it’s war.’ What if they meant to send three puffs and accidentally sent a fourth puff?” read more