Author: beetle63 (page 4 of 7)
When my son was about six or seven, I took him to his first baseball game, a Brevard Manatees exhibition game. Along about the sixth inning, we were getting fairly hungry and headed down to the concessions booths. We were about fourth or fifth in line when my son announced, “Hey dad, somebody dropped a dollar.”
Space Coast Stadium, Melbourne, Florida
I looked down, and between our feet was a dollar bill, folded twice. I told him, “Go ahead and pick it up.” So he bent down and picked up the bill.
“Dad, should I ask the man in front of us if he dropped it?” he asked. I admired his desire for honesty, but I explained to him a micro-lesson in human behavior: If you offer a person something of value, and ask, ‘Is this yours?’ an unscrupulous person will always say ‘yes’ and take your offering, even if it’s not honestly theirs. I told him a better way would be to wait and see what happens when the man pulls his money out to pay. If he notices he is missing money, he will start looking around for it. Then is a good time to offer the money you found to him.
We waited through several customers, and none seemed to be missing money, so after about five minutes or so, I told my son he could keep the dollar. We returned to our seats. We sat down and he unfolded the bill and said, “Dad, it’s not a dollar — it’s twenty dollars!” Then he quickly added, “I think I’m gonna like baseball.”
The up-and-coming generation has embraced today’s world of instant communications: cell phones, email, Twitter, and such.
This is one of my favorite true stories. It is about an Air Force Academy Cadet who callously decides that he can just fire off a quick email to the two highest ranking people (at the time) in the Air Force — our Chief of Staff, General John Jumper and our Service Secretary, Dr James Roche — and let them know he doesn’t agree with a personnel decision they have made.
Their response to his rebuke is classic. (Copied from a Snopes’ article entitled: “Space Cadet.”)
The letter
From: Walsh Robert C4C CS21
Sent: Wednesday, March 26, 2003 10:30 AM
To: Jumper John Gen AF/CC
Subject: Removal of Academy Leader
Chief of Staff of the U.S. Air Force,
General John P. Jumper,
Sir, I am a fourth Class Cadet at the United States Air Force
Academy. I do not agree with your idea for removal of all top officials at the
United States Air Force Academy. I do not believe it is necessary for all four
of them to be removed, and replaced. I especially have a problem with the
replacement of Col. Bob Eskeridge. The person who is supposed to replace Col.
Eskeridge, is not qualified for the position. Her only qualifications are that
she is a female, and an Academy Graduate. She has never been a group commander,
while Col. Eskeridge has been a group commander twice. Furthermore, this woman
has been working at the Academy during the same period as all these cases. She
has been in the position of the 34th Training Group, serving as the Deputy
Group Commander. By allowing her to take over Col. Eskeridge’s position, it
seems as though you are promoting her. Also, the person who will be filling the
job she is moving from, will be her superior, having also served as a group commander,
but because of the hierarchy at the Academy, she will instead be his superior.
I would like to see Col. Eskeridge retain his current position. I do not
believe he is a problem, in any way. He is a role model for all Cadets, as a
military officer. I have not heard a single complaint or bad word spoken about
Col. Eskeridge. Please reconsider your decision to remove Col. Eskeridge from
his position.
Thank you for your time and consideration,
Very Respectfully,
Cadet Fourth Class Robert M. Walsh
Cadet Squadron 21 “Blackjacks”
United States Air Force Academy
The Secretary of the Air Force’s response
From: Roche James Dr SAF/OS
Sent: Wednesday, March 26, 2003 10:11 AM
To: Walsh Robert C4C CS21
Subject: Re: Removal of Academy Leaders
Bob, good to hear from you. Colonel Eskeridge is a highly regarded officer and I have no animus toward him. He will be reassigned without any adverse consequence. In fact, we are working to minimize the impact on his family. However, Gen Jumper and I want a new leadership team in place, and we will do so. Your comments about Colonel Gray are not only wrong, they don’t reflect particularly well on you. Assignment of leaders in military organizations is not a popularity contest. Rather, it reflects the vision of the senior leadership of the Service. I know Colonel Gray, Gen Jumper knows Colonel Gray, and you don’t. Now, say again all after who is and who is not qualified to make assignment decisions? While I admire your loyalty to Colonel Eskeridge, and I enjoy a challenge-up, or “briefing room rules” environment, one of us is responsible to the President, the Congress, and the American people for the Academy — and, it’s not you (at least not for a few years). Gen Jumper and I have made our decisions. We expect all concerned now to implement them cheerfully, as is the long-standing expectation for military professionals.
And, Bob, that includes you.
Respectfully,
JGR
Dr. James G. Roche
Secretary of The Air Force
The Air Force Chief of Staff’s response
From: Jumper John Gen AF/CC
Sent: Wednesday, March 26, 2003 12:33 PM
To: Walsh Robert C4C CS21
Subject: RE: Removal of Academy Leader
Cadet Walsh, I sincerely hope that this is a hoax of some type because I would hate to think a Cadet Fourth Class would presume to instruct me on Air Force leaders I have known and served with for longer than you have been alive. I strongly suggest you devote your energy toward being the best possible 3-degree that you can be, to be a part of the solution that the new leadership is being sent there to oversee, and to keep yourself and your attitude off my radar scope.
JJ.
Little Justin was the epitome of cuteness wrapped in the body of a four-year-old boy. The problem was, he was just too cute. It wasn’t so much the day-to-day living, as it was special functions. Like church.
Come Sunday morning, all the older ladies of the church would just carry on about Justin’s cuteness, and before he could get away from them, they would grab his cheek betwixt the index finger and the thumb, and give it a pinch. Sometimes they would add a little shaking motion, like a pit bull latched on to a chew toy. It left his cheeks rosy and numb. The pinching was especially bad at weddings. There are even more old women at weddings than there are at church on Sunday. As each one pinched his little cheeks, they’d say “You’re next!”
Well, Justin finally discovered a way to get the old women to leave his cheeks alone. Whenever he’d go to a funeral, he’d seek out the older women. He’d run up to them, grab their cheeks, and pinch it with a solid twist, look them right in the eye, smile and say, “You’re next!”
The old ladies never bothered Justin after that.
This is a story about a little-known Confederate Colonel who dominated the battlefield during the American Civil War every bit as well as his military protegé, Thomas Jonathan “Stonewall” Jackson.
Just to refresh your memory, General “Stonewall” Jackson rose to prominence and earned his famous nickname at the First Battle of Bull Run back in 1861. As the Confederate lines began to crumble under heavy Union assault, Jackson’s brigade provided crucial reinforcements, and General Jackson stood in the midst of the battlefield, refusing to retreat. Brig. Gen. Barnard Elliott Bee, Jr., exhorted his own troops to re-form by shouting, “There is Jackson standing like a stone wall. Let us determine to die here, and we will conquer.”
The Confederate Colonel’s Aide-De-Camp came to him early one morning before sunrise. “Colonel, the scouting report says we’re outnumbered by the Yanks, two-to-one. Should we fall back to Virginia?”
“Heaven forbid!” Replied the Colonel, “Just bring me my red shirt, and we’ll send those Yankees back from whence they came.”
As the battle wore on, the Colonel stood proudly in the midst of his troops, barking orders and shouting encouragement. Bullets flew all around him, but he stood unfazed. The Union forces finally gave up and retired back into the woods for the evening.
The next morning, the Colonel’s Aide-De-Camp came again, and gave a report. “Sir, the Union forces reinforced their line last night. If we go into battle, we shall be outnumbered, sir, three-to-one! Should we fall back?”
“Never!” the Colonel replied. “Bring my red shirt, and we shall be victorious!”
The second day’s battle raged wilder than the first, with wave after wave of blue-suited soldiers attempting to drive back the Rebel defenders. The Colonel stood where all his troops could see him, prominent in his red shirt, unmoved from his position, despite the bullets that whizzed by his head. By sundown, the Union troops had made no gains and retreated once again into the woods.
The third morning, the Aide-De-Camp came and asked the Colonel, “Incredible victories, sir. May I ask the significance of the red shirt?”
“Certainly,” he replied. “If I am to stand and be an example for my troops, I want them to be able to spot me quickly amidst the chaos. The red shirt will draw their attention, their wonderment, and their dedication. Besides that, if I am shot, my men will not see the blood, and they will continue the fight.”
“Well, it seems to be working, sir.” said the Aide. “And we will need all the help we can get for today’s battle. It appears we’re outnumbered five-to-one, according to our scouts. Shall I bring you your red shirt?”
The Colonel replied, “Forget the red shirt, Today I’ll be wearing my brown trousers.”
The following is a letter is written from a farm kid going through boot camp at Parris Island Marine Corps Recruit Depot:
Dear Ma and Pa:
I am well. Hope y’all are too. Tell Brother Walt and Brother
Elmer the Marine Corps is easy and beats working for old man Minch by a country
mile. They really ought to join up quick ‘fore all the places are filled.
I was restless at first because they make you stay in bed till nearly 5:00 a.m., but I am getting so I like to sleepin’ in late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you has to do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine your boots and buckles. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, hay to lay… practically nothing. Men gots to shave but it is not so bad, they’ve even got warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on the pork chops, fried taters, salt-cured ham, steak, sausage, gravy and biscuits and other regular breakfast foods, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by some city boys that live on coffee and doughnuts. Their food plus yours holds you till noon when you get fed again. It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk far.
Speakin’ of walkin’; we go on “route marches” which the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to toughen us up. That’s OK If he thinks so, it’s not my place to tell him any different. A “route march” is about as far as it is to our mailbox at home. The countryside is nice but awfully flat. We don’t climb hills or nothin’. Them city guys get sore feet and we all get to ride back in trucks. The Sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags us a lot. The Captain is like the county school board. Majors and Colonels just ride around and frown. They don’t bother you none.
This next part will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting! I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is purt-near as big as a chipmunk’s head – and it don’t move. And it ain’t shootin’ back at you like the Higgett boys do back home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.
Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain’t like fighting with that ol’ bull at home. I’m about the best they got in this except for that guy Jordan from over in Silver Lake. I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I’m 5’6″ and 130 pounds, and he’s 6’8″ and weighs near 300 pounds dry.
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers find out about this setup and come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter,
Gail
or – the effect of a pretty girl on men’s clothing
Human Psychology says that what clothing a man wears is very dependent on the reward he expects to receive in return for any extra effort it takes to look a little better. In other words, the greater the potential of reward, the better a man will dress. However, there is a conflicting theory that says as a man grows older, he couldn’t care less what he looks like, regardless of the potential of reward.
Let’s look at an example. Given the potential to interact with the pretty girl (pictured), and the effects of aging, here are my observations on men dressing:
The Situation:
You are in the middle of some kind of fix-up project around the house, such as mowing the lawn, putting in a new fence, painting the living room, or whatever. You are hot and sweaty, covered in dirt or paint. You have your old “work clothes” on, and you know exactly the outfit I’m talking about: that old Boy George and the Culture Club t-shirt with yellowed armpits, the shorts with the hole in the crotch, and an old pair of white tennis shoes, the toes of which are grass-stained green.
Right in the middle of the most crucial part of your home improvement project, you realize you need to run to WalMart to get something to complete the job. Since you will have to inter-act with people, you will do one of the following depending on your age:
You stop what you are doing. Take a shower. Shave. Blow-dry your hair. Brush your teeth. Floss. Gargle. Put on neat, clean, leisure-lifestyle clothes. You check your face and your abs in the mirror and flex your biceps. You add a splash of your cheap cologne Aunt Margaret bought you for your birthday. You never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. Actually, it turns out you go to school with the pretty girl running the register.
You stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and polo shirt. Change your shoes. You married the hot chick who worked the WalMart register, so there’s no need to be prowling around. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. You still got it. To cover the smell of sweat, you add a shot of your AXE cologne – which you can afford now that you have a job. The cute girl running the register is the younger sister to someone you went to high school with.
You stop what you are doing. You put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the broken zipper of your shorts. Put on different shoes and a hat to cover your mussed hair. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brute cologne is almost empty and you don’t want to waste any of it on a trip to WalMart. Check yourself in the mirror and do more belly-sucking-in than flexing. The spicy young thing running the register at WalMart is your daughter’s age and you feel kind of creepy for just talking to her. You wonder how many guys think your daughter is just as spicy.
You stop what you are doing. Put a hat on to cover your hair loss, wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don’t want to track dirt into your brand new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror. Swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it accentuates your man-boobs. The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have what it takes. What you don’t realize is that the T shirt you have on is from your buddy’s bait shop and it says, “I Got Worms.”
You stop what you are doing. Realize that you need to go to WalMart to get something you’ll need to finish the job. Don’t bother with your face or your shirt — why would you? You haven’t bothered to check yourself in the mirror since you turned 58. There is no need for a hat anymore, either. Hose the dog poop off your shoes. As you drive to the WalMart, you remember there’s a hole in your shorts and you hope you have some underwear on.
You forget what you are doing. Remember what you were doing. Start doing it again. Remember why you stopped the first time. You decide to wait to go to Walmart until you go in the house and get your prescriptions so you can have them filled at the same time. Don’t see, smell, or even care that there is dog poop on your shoes. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind her of her grandfather who recently passed away.
You stop what you were doing. Rest. Start again. Then stop again. Rest. Now you remember that you need to go to WalMart for something to finish the job. Go to WalMart and wander around trying to remember what it was you came for. Fart out loud and turn around because you think someone called out your name. Leave streaks of dog poop off your shoes from the front to the back of the store. Stop to talk to the decrepit, crotchety old lady that greeted you at the front door and discover that she went to school with you.
A true Story
My daughter is a very social girl and is always being invited to parties. This week, she’s invited to this girl’s birthday party, that girl’s Summer cookout, and another girl’s sleepover. The trouble is, we don’t find out about a Friday-night-to-Saturday-morning sleepover until after school late on the Friday of. Then it’s, “You didn’t get me a present to take to the party? Yes, I did, I told you two weeks ago that Vicky’s birthday was sometime this month, and she said she was going to invite me if she had a party…” Somehow, there is special coding in the previous sentence that translates to “I’d like to attend Vicky’s slumber party on the 15th starting at six o’clock Friday evening and ending around 9:00 Saturday morning.”
Regardless, this was one of those days. Except it was a day party on a Sunday. We darted out of the church house as soon as the last note was sung, had to run to Wal Mart and purchase a present, wrap it with tape and tissue paper purchased at the Dollar Store, get Rachael to sign a Drug Store birthday card, and deliver our daughter with a wrapped present and card to the door of her friend’s house, hopefully before noon.
We barely made it. We told Rachael we would pick her up 7:00 p.m. before the evening service at church.
The weather turned off bad that evening. It got cold and dark, and started to rain. My wife pulled in the driveway and instructed me to go in and get our daughter. I dashed through the rain and rang the doorbell. The man of the house answered the door.
“Hello, can I help you?” he said.
I said, “I’m here to pick up Rachael.”
“Oh, okay” he said, and he looked a little disappointed. “She’s in the kitchen,” he told me.
“Rachael,” he called, “There’s a man here to pick you up.” Then to me, “She’ll be right out.”
So I stood there, exchanging pleasantries with the man; Where do you work? Have you lived here long? How many children do you have? That kind of chatter. Eventually, a nice-looking lady with long black hair came out of the kitchen and asked me, “Who are you, again and where are you taking me?”
I clarified, “I’m here to pick up Rachael.”
“Yes, I’m Rachel,” she said. And the man added, “my wife, Rachel.”
“I’m here for my daughter, Rachael.” They both looked confused.
“She’s supposed to be at a party at Anna’s?” I added.
“Oh, Anna lives next door!” they said with a huge sigh of relief. We all shared an embarrassing laugh. I apologized for the inconvenience I had done them, and bid them good night.
However, I thought I heard him say as he shut the door behind me, “So, is there something we need to talk about?”
Rules about self
- You are NOT Superman.
- Ambition, attitude, and brains – two are required to be successful.
- Anything you do leaves you vulnerable – including doing nothing.
- Try to look unimportant, the enemy may be low on ammunition.
- Don’t look conspicuous, it draws enemy fire.
- Don’t draw enemy fire, it makes you quite unpopular with your unit.
- Bravery is being the only one who knows you’re afraid.
- Never share your foxhole with someone braver than you.
Rules about weapons
- Remember your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
- Always aim towards the Enemy.
- If in doubt, empty your magazine.
- You have three seconds when lighting a five-second fuse.
- When the pin is pulled, the grenade is not your friend.
Rules about logistics:
- Things that must be together to work, can’t be shipped together.
- Batteries fail when there’s no other power source available.
- Radios fail when you desperately need fires support.
- Flashlights are tubular metal containers for storing dead batteries.
- The only time you can have too much fuel is when you’re on fire.
- If something hasn’t broken on your weapon, it’s about to.
- If you are short on everything except enemy, you are in combat.
Rules about tactics
- No plan survives initial contact intact.
- If it sounds stupid – but it works, it’s not stupid.
- If your attack is going well, you are walking into an ambush.
- It is generally inadvisable to eject into the area you just bombed.
- Any ship can be a minesweeper… once.
- If you see a bomb technician running, follow him.
- If one engine fails on a twin-engine airplane, you still have enough power to make it to the scene of the crash.
- Flying the airplane is more important than radioing your situation to a person on the ground incapable of doing anything about it.
Rules about fires
- The only thing more lethal than incoming fire, is incoming friendly fire.
- Incoming fire has the right-of-way.
- Tracer fire works both ways.
- Friendly fire isn’t.
- If the enemy is in range, so are you.
rules about strategy
- Professional soldiers are predictable – but the world is full of amateurs.
- If you are forward of your intended position, artillery will fall short.
- The diversion you are ignoring is really the main attack.
- The important things are always simple – the simple things are hard
- The easy path is mined.
- When both sides are convinced they are about to lose, they’re both right.
- If you take more than your fair share of objectives, you will have more than your fair share of objectives to take.
Finally:
- Once you win the battle, don’t forget to tell the enemy
In the churches I have attended, when a pastor leaves, the church body elects a “Pastor Search Committee” whose job it is to interview pastoral candidates, negotiate a compensation package, and ultimately hire a pastor.
Report from the Pastor Search Committee
We of the Pastor Search Committee do not have a happy report to give. We have not been able to find a suitable pastoral candidate for this church, though there were quite a few promising prospects. The following is ourconfidential report listing the candidates and our reasons for rejecting them.
ADAM: Could not confirm his ethnicity. Sounds like a good man, but blames his wife when things go wrong. I also heard that he and his wife were nudists.
NOAH: Had a former mega-pastorate for 120 years but no converts. He’s prone to radical building projects. A big animal lover. I understand his last neighborhood received a flood of complaints right as he was leaving town.
JOSEPH: A big thinker. Excellent business acumen with budgets and managing resources. But he’s a braggart. He believes in dream interpretation, and I think he served some time in jail for accosting his boss’s wife.
MOSES: A modest and meek man, but a poor communicator; has a speech impediment. Prone to anger and reacts rashly in business meetings. He claims to hear quotes directly from God. Some say he had to leave town over accusations of a murder charge. He’s too intense for most folks. And someone said he was a basket case from the beginning.
ESTHER: Female.
SAUL: A promising candidate, tall, strong, handsome, and a popular leader. However, I found out later he was only selected out of desperation.
DAVID: I found David to be the most promising candidate of all until I discovered he had an affair with his neighbor¹s wife. And then her husband mysteriously died in battle? Don’t know how we could respect him.
SOLOMON: Great preacher, but he’s a player, has had serious issues with women. He is Independently wealthy, so there’s a possibility the church could pay him less and he can cover the difference. Of concern is a possibility that he may have more than one wife.
ELIJAH: Prone to depression and collapses under pressure. He hasn’t returned my calls, and no one has seen him in a long time. Doesn¹t play well with religious leaders of other denominations.
HOSEA: A tender and loving pastor, but there’s concern over his wife¹s occupation.
JONAH: This man is crazy. He told me he was swallowed up by a great fish. He said the fish spit him out on the shore nearly three days later. Oh, and he lived for a while under a giant pumpkin, too.
AMOS: Too much of a country hick. Backward and unpolished. With some seminary he might have promise; but he has a hang-up against wealthy people.
JOHN: Says he is a Baptist, but dresses like a hippie. He may be too Pentecostal. Tends to lift both hands in the air to worship when he gets excited. He currently sleeps outdoors, does one of those weird organic diets, and provokes other denominational leaders.
PETER: He has a bad temper, even said to have cursed on occasions. He’s a loose cannon.
PAUL: A powerful motivator and fascinating preacher; and he’s a published author. However, he’s short on tact, unforgiving with younger ministers, harsh, and has been known to preach all night. Very offensive to women when he starts his “submission” stuff. And he’s been arrested on more than one occasion.
TIMOTHY: Too young and inexperienced.
JESUS: He has a popular following occasionally. Once, when his church grew to 5000 almost overnight, he managed toHT offend them all with his message. Eventually, that church dwindled down to twelve people… and one of them turned against him for some reason. Even the faithful finally left his team. Critics report he seldom stays in one place very long, is easily distracted by poor, sick, and needy people, so he doesn’t focus on preaching. Disappeared for forty days one time to go camping and everyone thought he had left the ministry. He spends a lot of time in meditation, and not enough in the office. And, by the way, he is single, which should disqualify him automatically. It’s reported He hangs out with sinners most of the time. Rumor has it he’s got crossed up with the government some how. He’s been subpoenaed several times. Besides, he’s Jewish.
Summary:
We intend to keep looking until we find the perfect pastor for our Church, but
it’s not looking good at this point.
Sincerely,
Pastor Search Committee.
Be careful what you ask a woman
The following information was prepared to alert younger men to dangerous questions that they may inadvertently ask their wives or girlfriends; questions that on the surface have no consequence – but can prove seriously disastrous to a relationship if not worded skillfully.
DANGEROUS: You’re not wearing that are you?
SAFER: Is that what you’re wearing?
SAFEST: Are you ready to knock ’em dead?
DANGEROUS: What are you so pissed off about?
SAFER: Could we take a minute to calm down?
SAFEST: Here’s fifty dollars, where do you want to go shopping?
DANGEROUS: Are you ready to admit you were wrong?
SAFER: Is’nt this the first time you’ve ever been wrong?
SAFEST: Are you ready for me to apologize?
DANGEROUS: Should you be eating that?
SAFER: You know we have some fresh apples?
SAFEST: Can I get you a glass of wine to go with that?
DANGEROUS: What’s for dinner?
SAFER: Can I help you with dinner?
SAFEST: Where would you like to go for dinner?
And my personal favorite…..
DANGEROUS: What did you do all day?
SAFER: You didn’t over-do it today, did you?
SAFEST: How long have you had that comfortable-looking robe?
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