Here are some scraps from an old reporter’s notepad:
• Retired Blue Grass farmer Bob Bancks said he made a little history on Memorial Day. He became the first non-veteran to lead the singing of the “Star-Spangled Banner” at the Blue Grass American Legion’s Memorial Day ceremony. Said Bob: “Being a non-veteran doesn’t mean someone is unpatriotic.”
• My wife Sherry and I recently had eye exams, and our pupils were dilated for a while, making seeing difficult. That reminded me of something funny that happened years ago. A fellow I worked with went to the eye doctor. When his appointment had ended, he phoned me at the office and asked for a ride because his pupils were dilated. So I drove to his eye doctor’s office, and he walked out to my car. “Thanks a lot,” he said, then turned to walk toward his pickup truck. “Wait a minute!” I exclaimed. “Aren’t you riding back to the office with me?” “No,” he said with a grin. “They told me I had to call for a ride, and I did.” He then got in his truck and drove away.
• I don’t know about you, but I consider it a good day if Rachel from Cardholder Services has not called me to tell me there is no problem with my credit card, but….
• I appreciate clever signs. And I enjoyed the ones posted outside Animal Care Center in Davenport. They were based on rock ‘n’ roll songs. One said, “I kissed a pug, and I liked it.” The other sign read, “It’s all about the basset.”
• I was out for a walk — an important part of maintaining one’s health, but not my favorite activity — and my wife approached in her car. I put my thumb up like I was hitchhiking. She stopped, rolled down her window, smiled and said, “I don’t pick up strangers, and there’s no one stranger than you.” With that, she drove off. I’m starting to feel a little like Rodney Dangerfield.
• I recently walked by some beautiful red, pink and white peonies in a vase on our dining room table and commented to my wife how nice they looked. “They’re artificial,” she said. “And they’ve been there for two weeks.” Maybe floral stupidity is in the Roberts blood. Years ago, when my mother was in the hospital, my dad watered her flowers in the house religiously. Turned out they were silk flowers.
Copyright 2016 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises. This piece was printed as a column in the North Scott Press, Eldridge, Iowa.