Grandpa Bob Quotes

 

Grandpa Bob’s

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A paraprosdokian is a phrase or sentence that leads us down the garden path to an unexpected ending. “Where there’s a will, I want to be in it,” is a paraprosdokian.

— Winston Churchill loved them.

I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.

i-GBob

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Remember Slow Food?

‘Someone asked the other day, ‘What was your favorite fast food when you were growing up?’

‘We didn’t have fast food when I was growing up, informed him.
‘All the food was slow.’

‘C’mon, seriously. Where did you eat?’

‘It was a place called ‘at Home,” I explained. !

‘Mom cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we sat down together at the dining room table, and if I didn’t like what she put on my plate I was allowed to sit there until I did like it.’

By this time, the kid was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn’t tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table.

But here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I figured his system could have handled it :

Some parents NEVER owned their own house, never wore Levis, never set foot on a golf course, never traveled out of the country or had a credit card.

In their later years they had something called a revolving charge card. The card was good only at Sears Roebuck. Or maybe it was Sears & Roebuck.

Either way, there is no Roebuck anymore. Maybe he died.

My parents never drove me to soccer practice. This was mostly because we never had heard of soccer.

I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed, (slow)

We didn’t have a television in our house until I was 18.

It was, of course, black and white, and the station went off the air at midnight, after playing the national anthem and a poem about God; it came back on the air at about 6 a.m. And there was usually a locally produced news and farm show on, featuring local people.

I was 19 before I tasted my first pizza, it was called ‘pizza pie.’ When I bit into it, I burned the roof of my mouth and the cheese slid off, swung down, plastered itself against my chin and burned that, too. It’s still the best pizza I ever had.

I never had a telephone in my room. The only phone in the house was in the living room and it was on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn’t know weren’t already using the line.

Pizzas were not delivered to our home But milk was.

All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers, my brother delivered a newspaper, six days a week. It cost 7 cents a paper, of which he got to keep 2 cents. He had to get up at6AM every morning.

On Saturday, he had to collect the 42 cents from his customers. His favorite customers were the ones who gave him 50 cents and told him to keep the change. His least favorite customers were the ones who seemed to never be home on collection day.

Movie stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the movies. There were no movie ratings because all movies were responsibly produced for everyone to enjoy viewing, without profanity or violence or most anything offensive.

If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your children or grandchildren

Just don’t blame me if they bust a gut laughing.

Growing up isn’t what it used to be, is it?

i2-GBob

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Grandpa Bob

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You don’t have to win every argument.

Stay true to yourself.

 

i2-GBob

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Formerly of rural Lenoir City, Tennessee

 

 


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Life Thoughts!

Wouldn’t it be nice if whenever we messed up our life we could simply press ‘Ctrl Alt Delete’ and start all over?

i2-GBob

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A few days ago my best friend from high school sent me a ” Viet Nam Veteran” cap. I never had one of these before, and I was pretty hyped about it, especially because we served together. My friend Ron was considerate enough to think of me and send it.

 Yesterday, I wore it when I went to Walmart. There was nothing in particular that I needed at the world’s largest retailer; but, since I retired, trips to Wally World to look at the Walmartians is always good for some comic relief.

Besides, I always feel pretty normal after seeing some of the people who frequent the establishment. But, I digress…enough of my psychological fixations.

 While standing in line to check out, the guy in front of me, probably in his early thirties, asked, “Are you a Viet Nam Vet?”

“No,” I replied.

“Then why are you wearing that cap?”

“Because I couldn’t find the one from the War of 1812.”

I thought it was a snappy retort.

“The War of 1812, huh?” the Walmartian queried, “When was that?”

God forgive me, but I couldn’t pass up such an opportunity.

“1936,” I answered as straight-faced as possible.

He pondered my response for a moment and responded,

“Why do they call it the War of 1812 if it was in 1936?”

“It was a Black Op. No one is supposed to know about it.”

This was beginning to be way fun!

“Dude! Really?” he exclaimed. “How did you get to do something that COOOOL?”

I glanced furtively around me for effect, leaned toward the guy and in a low voice said,

“I’m not sure. I was the only Caucasian on the mission.”

“Dude,” he was really getting excited about what he was hearing, “that is seriously awesome! But, didn’t you kind of stand out?”

“Not really. The other guys were wearing white camouflage.”

The moron nodded knowingly.

“Listen man,” I said in a very serious tone, “You can’t tell anyone about this.

It’s still ‘top secret’ and I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh yeah?” he gave me the “don’t threaten me look.”

“Like, what’s gonna happen if I do?”

With a really hard look I said, “You have a family don’t you? We wouldn’t want anything to happen to them, would we?”

The guy gulped, left his basket where it was and fled through the door.

By this time the lady behind me was about to have a heart attack, she was laughing so hard. I just grinned at her.

After checking out and going to the parking lot I saw Dimwit leaning in a car window talking to a young woman. Upon catching sight of me he started pointing excitedly in my direction.

Giving him another “deadly” serious look, I made the “I’m watching you” gesture.

He turned kind of pale, jumped in the car and sped out of the parking lot.

What a great time ! Tomorrow I’m going back with a Homeland Security cap.

Whoever said retirement is boring just needs the right kind of cap.

 

i2-GBob

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The Night Watchman

Once upon a time the government had a vast scrap yard in the middle of a desert. Congress said, “Someone may steal from it at night.” So they created a night watchman position and hired a person for the job.

Then Congress said, “How does the watchman do his job without instruction?” So they created a planning department and hired two people, one person to write the instructions, and one person to do time studies.

Then Congress said, “How will we know the night watchman is doing the tasks correctly?” So they created a Quality Control department and hired two people. One was to do the studies and one was to write the reports.

Then Congress said, “How are these people going to get paid?” So they created two positions: a time keeper and a payroll officer.

Then Congress said, “Who will be accountable for all of these people?” So they created an administrative section and hired three people, an Administrative Officer, Assistant Administrative Officer, and a Legal Secretary.

Then Congress said, “We have had this command in operation for one year and we are $918,000 over budget, we must cut back.”

So they laid-off the night watchman.

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Grandpa Bob

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Take my Son…..

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art..

When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas,

There was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands..

He said, ‘Sir, you don’t know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly… He often talked about you, and your love for art.’ The young man held out this package. ‘I know this isn’t much. I’m not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.’

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.. ‘Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It’s a gift.’

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.

On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. ‘We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?’

There was silence…

Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, ‘We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.’

But the auctioneer persisted. ‘Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?’

Another voice angrily. ‘We didn’t come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh’s, the Rembrandts. Get on with the Real bids!’

But still the auctioneer continued. ‘The son! The son! Who’ll take the son?’

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the long-time gardener of the man and his son. ‘I’ll give $10 for the painting…’ Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.

‘We have $10, who will bid $20?’

‘Give it to him for $10. Let’s see the masters.’

The crowd was becoming angry. They didn’t want the picture of the son.

They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The auctioneer pounded the gavel.. ‘Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!’

A man sitting on the second row shouted, ‘Now let’s get on with the collection!’

The auctioneer laid down his gavel. ‘I’m sorry, the auction is over.’

‘What about the paintings?’

‘I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will… I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.

The man who took the son gets everything!’

i2-GBob “Thoughts” as related by Grandpa Bob

 


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New Word: *Ineptocracy*

Could not find it in my old Webster’s. Googled it and discovered it is a recently “coined” new word found on a T shirt on eBay. Getting really close to the bone! Read this one over slowly and absorb the facts that totally are within this sentence!

I love this word and believe that it will become a recognized English word. Finally, a word to describe our current political and economic situation.

Ineptocracy (in-ep-toc’-ra-cy) – a system of government where the least capable to lead are elected by the least capable of producing, and where the members of society least likely to sustain themselves or succeed, are rewarded with goods and services paid for by the confiscated wealth of a diminishing number of producers.


i2-GBob
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A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

i2-GBob

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The 50-50-90 rule: Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there’s a 90% probability you’ll get it wrong.

i2-GBob

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Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do… write to these men? Why don’t they just put their pictures on the postage stamps so the mailmen could look for them while they deliver the mail? Or better yet, arrest them while they are taking their pictures!

 

 

i2-GBob

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THINGS THAT YOU WILL NEVER HEAR A SOUTHERN BOY SAY:

Come to think of it, I’ll have a Heineken

 

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