Elevator Humor

It was a blog by Andrew Saladino that caught my eye while scrounging around the internet looking for jokes.  One needs levity after listing the day's chores.

                            The blog was titled  Hilarious To Do List.

                      #4 read “Go into a crowded elevator and say, 

                      “I bet you’re all wondering why I gathered you 

                      here,” with a straight face.”

So funny.  And then I remembered the time we spent in Black Bear Inn in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, on the third floor, when I was trying out some humor.  Darling Hubby was spending hours in bed feeling sick with headaches, so frequently I was on my own.  

There were two elevators, one was “out of order”.  It wasn’t an overly busy hotel but the inoperable elevator caused just a bit of congestion.  

One time, alone on the inside of the elevator, the doors shuffled open wide, I looked at the little group of men and women soberly waiting there, then watched their faces crack into smiles and chuckles.  In a paradox I faked reaching for the red shut door button and raised my volume to announce, “Sorry, this elevator is full."

Another time hubby and son were with me.  The doors opened.  There stood workers; big tall muscular construction male workers.  They carried tools, wore grubby clothes, and their faces said they were there to do a job.   One man held a battery operated drill, another wore a tool belt, and the closest one to me had a hammer tucked in his armpit.

When the doors slid apart, I held up my hands in front of me, palms out, and let loose with, “It’s all right!  We’re getting off.  Honestly, you don’t need that hammer!”

Forget elevator music, let's have some elevator humor, tell a joke, get a laugh, lighten a dreary mood, after all, that's why I gathered you here, LOL.  BTW,  "I hope you're up lifting, because I'm coming down with something."

SUNDAYS VIGNETTES

It was a beautiful day!  All bright and warm and sunshiny.

That was a trope.

Let's try that again.

The day was bright and warm and sunshiny, a perfect Sunday!

Eh, nah.  That was a borderline trope. 

Let's try that again, again.

Sunday couldn't have been better!  Warm breezes, sunshine -- great weather!  

Great grandkids everywhere, such go-getters!

In the house the women were loosely gathered in a corner of the room, some on the couch. some on chairs.  The men were lazily lounging on the other side of the room with one exception, Calvin.  He'd drifted to the adjoining room and looked to be horizontalized -- sleeping.  

Jacob, the 3 y.o., came through, walking between all of us, carrying a shiny big red tractor. Spencer, stirring things up as he likes to do, heartily chuckled, said, "That goes in the pond."

Though he was headed outside, Jacob knew better, he said, "Does not."

Calvin, surprise, surprise, pops up and says, "Unless you wanna watch it swim!"

"Calvin, don't tell him to do that!" I cautioned.

Jacob knew better, "Unt-uh, it won't swim."

Because he was still trying to stir things up with Jacob, Calvin added, "How do you know?"

All guys were standing around the pick-up truck that hubby was trouble shooting.  The grandkids had drug every toy out of the garage and into the graveled driveway.  The drive is a long one from house to mailbox at the county road.   

The toys ranged from little red wagon to riding toy cars like police-mobile and yellow digger with construction hat, both Cozy Coups, baseball bats, golf clubs, croquet mallets, myriad balls - golf, basketball, croquet, and rubber bouncy ones.  The youngest kids carried their sippy cups.

One of the dads had brought over their kids bicycles.  Good!  Bold Jayden got mine out of the shed and explained, "So you can race me!"

Is he kidding?!  He just learned to ride two Sunday's ago. A race!?  So, I raced him, leisurely, LOL, in consideration for his blooming dexterity. On the way back, I pedaled past him and then past Alayna, who was leaning out of the bed of that pick-up truck.  She yelled to me with a giggle in her voice.

"Grandma's don't ride bikes!"

"Oh, yes, they do.  It's fun!"  especially when it's an O.C. Chopper with a comfy seat, chuckle.

Back in the house, we women looked up startled.   Very seriously, Rusty raised his voice to address us all, his mother, his wife, his family friend, and his two sister-in-laws.  He was waving up and over his head a white handled broom.

"Who left their vehicle behind mine?  I can't back up!"

OH, HO!

Guess who took off ducking and running!  And carrying a broom!

LET'S HEAR ABOUT MOOSE!

There's many roads we must take before we get to Alayna's punchline.  First, we know that her daddy labels, uses monikers.  If you read the last blog, you know Rusty named their first harvest spider of the season , Geirstein the Big.   He named his dog Spike.  He called his first daughter "the bull".  And, now that his wife is pregnant with another child, and though not born, it's rowdy and giving mom fits as in aches and pains, so, Rusty calls it moose, LOL!

And, keep in mind that I thought all kinds of things when Alayna made this comment and made me laugh..  A person does.  When you hear the word Halloween it conjures up...what?  Jack-o-lanterns?  Trick or Treat?  costumes?  parties?

When you hear the word Christmas you begin thinking of brightly lit evergreen trees, wrapped gifts, holiday foods, jolly red Santa, glittery greeting cards, right?

And after Christmas?  The clean-up, and New Year's Eve; that's what most people think about.  In our family, we also think of Rusty's wife's birthday.  It falls right in there amongst all that other busy-ness.

Remember also, children are naive.  They're innocent.  Their comments do not include all that adult stuff we've been subjected to and attached to words.  Children's lives are very little, basic, filled with parental info and guidelines we've given them.

Now, I can tell you.  5 year old Alayna came up to me during a noisy, very noisy gathering.  After having celebrated a birthday with six grandkids running around, parents laughing and telling stories, grandparents and uncles  adding laugh lines to the stories, she put her little soft hand in mine and said, "GrammyPam?"

"Yes, Alayna..."

She said,"After Christmas..." and I thought of New Years, and her mother's birthday.

"moose" my mind wandered thinking of cold Alaska and humongous antlered creatures.

 Alayna said, "After Christmas, Moose comes out of mommy!"

Oh my lands, I doubled over laughing!  She was so serious!  I was so loosing it!

Art Linkletter said it best, "Kids say the darnedest things!"

And Alayna, unknowingly, said the darnedest of all, "After Christmas, Moose comes out of mommy!"

ROFLMHO

HARVEST SPIDER - GEIRSTEIN THE BIG

I found it!  

I found what this family has dubbed The First Harvest Spider of the Season!  

Last year he hung between heaven and earth in the back yard, but upon closer inspection with my camera, I found anchor threads of his web to the clothes line.  Taking pictures was almost useless. 

But this year I'd been reading and I knew what to do.  

How did I find him?

From my kitchen window I could see little round circles in the dewy grass that looked like pulled apart thin sheets of Kleenex.

Going outside, getting closer, I could see they were spider webs.  Then I found the mother of them all!  Geirstein the Big!  

LOL, at least that's what Rusty, my oldest son, calls his.  He has a home and a family of his own and last year they had a Black and Yellow Garden Spider just take over their front door!  He loved carrying on the tradition of being first to spy the first.

The Black & Yellow Garden Spider of Indiana can also be found along the eaves of houses and outbuildings or in any tall vegetation.  We easily find them under our eaves, that's where we found our very first about 30 years ago when the kids were young.  Supposedly, these spiders live 1 to 3 years.

It's also one of the larger species that can grow to 1.5 inches, not counting the legs.  According to gardener facts, it keeps a clean orderly web, is active during the day, and constructs stabilimenta, a zig-zag web decoration.

Why do we see them in the Fall?  They build their webs in a safe place to survive the winter after having spent the summer getting bigger eating insects, and becoming mature adults.

So what did I learn?  Make a puff ball.  Fill a square of cheesecloth with some flour, then gently pat it to create a little poofing of powder onto the web.  It will then show up in your camera, just like the one above.  

Again, I couldn't find thread web anchors.  It looked like it was hanging in mid-air.  After the puff ball, I could see it was tied to the above tree, another foot over my head!

Sharing the pics with Rusty on group texting, it was evident it's still a family tradition.  Clint had a marbled one in his barn window.  Spencer has a huge nasty one that likes to eat carpenter bees.  Still hopeful, Rusty reported, "We have a smaller one hanging off the SUV mirror.  Geirstein the Big has yet to show."

MORE TO THE STORY of Pole, Forks, Man, at Portland Tractor Show

In my last blog, Pole, Forks, Man, At Portland Tractor Show,  I embarrassed myself 3 times in 7 minutes.  It's a story that'll be, and has been, retold and built upon, many times; many, many times.

Here's just a couple examples.

I'll set the scene.  

Warm sunny day.  The three of us in a golf cart were on our own.  Darling hubby of mine, and darling wife of Clint's remained at home because of school.  John being a bus driver.  Jessica sticking around for first grade daughter.  

So, Clint was in the back, I was riding shotgun, and, of course, Jeani was driving. 

The Tri-State Gas Engine and Tractor show brought upwards of 700 campers, over 4,000 exhibits, and 54 acres of swap meet merchandise.  The town accommodates it all -- the rental of golf carts, the quilt show, the library book sale, and city wide yard sales.

We were going city wide to all the yards sales we could, until something stopped us, like a phone call from a spouse saying, "I'm coming, meet me."

The first sale netted Jeani an Aggravation game board, just what she was wanting, for 50 cents.

The next 2 sales, nothing.

The third sale I found princess dresses with gold face masks...$3 for all.

The fourth one, we were crossing the intersection when Clint piped up, referring to the fence post I'd hit the day before knocking off an electrical box.

"Remember, Jeani, every 7 feet there's a pole!"

Jeani, the traitor, laughs, "Which one has her name on it....?"

Clint counts off as we pass each one, "One....two.....three......"

Grrr, I have to take the ribbing with charity, don't I?  That is, until the last comment reached my ears as she reached the mailbox behind which rested a large black wire dog crate for sale.  

Clint said, "I don't think she'll fit, Jeani."

Oh, boy, we're getting clever now -- yah, yah -- contain "the menace to society"!

The show's over. 

The camper's hitched up.  We're on our way home.  Part way we stop for refreshments and a gasoline fill-up.  As we exit the building thinking my out-of-state companion might like a different ride (hubby drives a diesel) or she might like to visit with John for a different change of pace, I asked, "Would you like to ride with John for a while?"

Jeani asked, "Are you tired of me?"

"No," I assured her, "I’m not tired of you!  You could move up here and live, and it’d be fine with me."

Jeani's quick witted.  She didn't miss a beat.  She put up her hands and started ticking off on her fingers, "Well, let me see, you tried to take me out with a pole, and the forks of a tractor, and….."

She continued, "And you about hit that man with the golf cart."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" I said.  "Get in.  You're driving!"

POLE, FORKS, MAN AT PORTLAND TRACTOR SHOW

 

Sylph's stirred the air and for 7 minutes I was devoid of sensibilities.  Yes, blame the Sylphs!

Better yet, tell the truth!  It was the dolls, I tell ya, it was the dolls!

Like sirens, they beguiled me with their set smiles, crowns of curls, and fancy luxurious gowns.  Their visage called, I turned my head to look them full in the face.  Were they for sale, what was their price, would a granddaughter like one for Christmas?  

BOOM!

Disaster!

What the heck was that????  Well, ut-hum, it was me.  I'd struck a pole!  An electrical pole!  Driving the golf cart, ignoring Jeani who was making a Marco Polo, and looking back at the dolls, I'd hit a pole.  I didn't just hit it, though, I scraped alongside so hard that it took the mounted electrical box off! 

Red faced.  Hanging head.  I braked to a "Stop!"  Adding to my shame, 4 men in another golf cart passed by, grinning!

One said, "Don't worry 'bout it.  You just took the box off.  It can be reattached."  

Oh, Lord, people saw!!!!

That was one.

Here I must digress and tell you an old joke.  It's about newlyweds driving a buggy who's horse stepped in the ditch.  Groom says, "That's one."  They drive on, horse stumbles, groom says, "That's two." They continue, horse stops, groom says, "That's three." and shoots him dead.  Back in the buggy the upset new wife says, "Why'd you shoot our horse, now what're we gonna do?"  Groom says, "That's one."

Upset.  Embarrassed.  I drove on.  

We were looking for the other golf cart, the one my son was driving, with my brother and his son-in-law. Scanning through the hordes of swappers, looking for that one telltale sign that said "It's them!" I didn't see.  

It was only 7 minutes devoid of sensibilities.

Jeani screamed, "Forks!"

What?

She nervously giggled, insisted, "Forks!  See the forks!  Don't run into them!"

I didn't see packages of plasticware, I didn't see a hay pitchfork, I didn't see a fork in the road!

"Stop!"

I stopped.  I tell you now the top of the golf cart windshield was folded down.  That meant there were 2 panes of glass - and they were dirty.  They were dirty from the mud and the dust of driving up and down 44 acres of men's world of tools, engines, and tractors.  We were on aisle F.

And Jeani was loudly insisting I stop to avoid the forks.  Never seeing the forks, I stopped.

Then vision zoomed in.  It clarified.  I saw two 4 foot long tines lo-o-ow to the ground poking towards my front tires.  Ut-oh.

I looked up.  I looked 10 feet up!

The driver was patiently sitting high in his seat, arms crossed, waiting for acknowledgement!  His eyes were steady on me.  

I kid you not, this thing was imposing!  It was big.  'Bout 20 feet long.  It was tall.  'Bout 10 feet tall.  It was bulky and gray and red.   It was a Manitou telescoping stackhandler.  And it was gonna fork me!

Sheesh!  Another disaster!  Jeani averted!

That was two.

 I drove around the forks.

We were still keeping an eye out for the other golf cart full of family.  I'm nervous.  I'm totally embarrassed.  I'm wishing someone else was driving, my mind's disturbed.

For the third time Jeani hollers at me.  

She's a good shotgun rider, you know, like men of the wagon train, one holds the horses' reins, the other front seat cowboy sits with a rifle in his lap watching out for predators and "them there injuns" -- riding shotgun.

She hollers, "Man!  Don't hit that man!"

What man?  

What man is she talkin'' 'bout?  

It wasn't that six foot tall man was it?  The Caucasian, wearing white pants that I'd just went around?  I wasn't gonna hit him!

That was three.

We came upon the family, they had TWO golf carts, I wasn't expecting that.  We stopped.  We chatted. Jeani told all.  I'm thinking, "These stories will never die." Three carts abreast, we clogged aisle E.  

That's it.  I'm done.  It had only taken 7 minutes of Sylph's stirring the air of senselessness for me to give up the reins.  

Jeani's driving!