Don't get me wrong, now. I love my wife's family, but they are not the
most active folks in the world. Her brother was still at our house
yesterday and, if Ron had his way, he would sit around drinking beer,
smoking, and watching daytime TV all day. I just could not face the
prospect of sitting around all day yesterday doing nothing, so I had a
brainstorm.

"Hey Ron," says I. "How would you like a couple of Adirondack chairs
for the back yard at your new house."

BIL figured that would nice, so I hied myself of to the garage cum
workshop and proceeded to fire up the bandsaw and start cutting out
pieces parts. Now this was a pretty good deal for me. I get to spend
a day in the shop ingratiating myself to both my BIL and my wife.

Ron came out to the shop at one point and, noting that I had the radio
tuned to NPR, commented that I ought to buy a small TV for the shop so
I didn't have to listen to all that talking. "Man, you could have The
Price is Right on." Folks, he wasn't kidding. "You know what you
ought to do since you have all these tools? You ought to make those
wishing wells and smoking cowboy silhouettes and sell them at craft
shows. You could make a fortune."

"Yeah, I bet I could make and sell those grannies bending over in the
garden, too," I joshed.

"You know, those things sell real good up in Indiana." He thought I
was serious.

He is on his way back to Kentucky now. If you are on I-65 and see a
red Chevy pickup truck with two Adirondack chairs and a cooler full of
Bud Light in the back, that's our boy Ron.

Dick Durbin

Olebiker wrote:

He is on his way back to Kentucky now. If you are on I-65 and see
a red Chevy pickup truck with two Adirondack chairs and a cooler
full of Bud Light in the back, that's our boy Ron.


Damn funny :-)

Errbody's different and it's all good. That's what makes the world
such an interesting place. Yee ha.

On 27 Dec 2005 06:24:42 -0800, "Olebiker" wrote:

Damn, sounds about like my visit to the daughters house...

Main difference is that the lugnut that lives with her looked at a table of
bowls and vases and told me that I should make bird cages and sell them to the
pet shop... *sigh*

Don't get me wrong, now. I love my wife's family, but they are not the
most active folks in the world. Her brother was still at our house
yesterday and, if Ron had his way, he would sit around drinking beer,
smoking, and watching daytime TV all day. I just could not face the
prospect of sitting around all day yesterday doing nothing, so I had a
brainstorm.

"Hey Ron," says I. "How would you like a couple of Adirondack chairs
for the back yard at your new house."

BIL figured that would nice, so I hied myself of to the garage cum
workshop and proceeded to fire up the bandsaw and start cutting out
pieces parts. Now this was a pretty good deal for me. I get to spend
a day in the shop ingratiating myself to both my BIL and my wife.

Ron came out to the shop at one point and, noting that I had the radio
tuned to NPR, commented that I ought to buy a small TV for the shop so
I didn't have to listen to all that talking. "Man, you could have The
Price is Right on." Folks, he wasn't kidding. "You know what you
ought to do since you have all these tools? You ought to make those
wishing wells and smoking cowboy silhouettes and sell them at craft
shows. You could make a fortune."

"Yeah, I bet I could make and sell those grannies bending over in the
garden, too," I joshed.

"You know, those things sell real good up in Indiana." He thought I
was serious.

He is on his way back to Kentucky now. If you are on I-65 and see a
red Chevy pickup truck with two Adirondack chairs and a cooler full of
Bud Light in the back, that's our boy Ron.

Dick Durbin



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