You Have to Fight

Here's another story from my grandfather. At one time he was working in a sawmill. He was a member of the trade union as everyone else was, as the mill was a closed shop and therefore only took on union members.

Every year the pay and work conditions were fixed in an agreement between the management of the mill and the union. My grandfather at one time was elected as a union representative and took part in the preparations of the demands forwarded to the management ahead of negotiations.

It was before these matters were taken care of by men and women with degrees in economics and business administration. Demands were worked out by the men on the floor. Often in the evening over a glass or two of beer after a long day of hard work. And the agreement were negotiated by the representatives of the men on the floor.

The great day arrived. My grandfather and two other men - one was Carl, the boss of the workers, and the other one was an ordinary representative like my grandfather - went up to the Board Room to negotiate. Their nails were clean and their shirts were white for the occasion.

They sat down at the nice table in the formidable room. Bottled water and real glasses were on the table and the manager opened the meeting.

"We have had a look at your proposals, and I am pleased to say, that we can accept all your demands", he said.

Carl got up. His face had turned red and he looked angrily around the room. "Then they are not high enough" he retorted and left the room, slamming the door. My grandfather and the other representative got up silently and followed him. 

Miracle in thin slices

My grandad was a carpenter. Of the old school. He loved to tell about his time as a apprentice with a master carpenter. It was hard work, long hours and they were treated with little respect.

They were 5 apprentices, and they all received board and lodging in the master carpenter's house. They had the meals together with the master's family, but the apprentices never got the prime cuts or the juiciest pieces. The master's wife was parsimonious.

At breakfast one morning one of the apprentices suddenly cried out: "it's a miracle, I have got my eyesight back!".

"Your eyesight back? What do you mean?", the master asked.

"Well, yesterday I couldn't see the butter on my bread, but today I can see the church tower through my slice of cheese" he said, holding his slice of cheese in front of one of his eyes.

One two many

There are three kinds of people:

Those who are good at mathematics and
those who are not good at mathematics.

Worse to Come

We are back in 1793, in France. It is in the time of the French Revolution. People are being executed, and the means of execution is the guillotine. A cruel way of dying.

It's the wrong place and the wrong time to be an aristocrat. One of those have been apprehended and summarily sentenced to death by the guillotine.

The guillotine has been set up in town square and a crowd has gathered to watch the cruel execution.

The unlucky aristocrat is led to the guillotine by two men. As he makes his way up the seven steps to the platform where the guillotine is erected he stumbles and falls.

"This begins badly", he sneers.

The Right Timing

Bill had a small farm. He was doing well, but he had a problem with large flocks of crows on the farm. He decided to call in a specialist with a rifle to help him getting rid of them.

He found one advertising in the local phone book and called him. Things were arranged. He would come the next day and shoot the crows with his rifle. "What time will you be here?", Bill asked. "At 8 or 9 in the morning", he answered.

The next morning he arrived at the farm with his rifle at 8 in the morning. He was good. He shot a lot of crows, but did not manage to get them all, so they agreed he would come again the next day. "I will be here at 8 or 9", he said.

The next day he arrived at 8 in the morning and finished off the work. Then he sat down with Bill to have a cup of coffee. "You did a good job", Bill told him. "But I noticed that yesterday you put the rifle butt against your left shoulder, while today you put it against your right shoulder. How come?". 

"Well, you see", he answered, "when I wake up in the morning I look at my wife sleeping next to me. If she is sleeping on her left shoulder, I put the butt to my left shoulder. If she is sleeping on her right shoulder, I put it to my right shoulder."

"What if she is sleeping on her back?", Bill wondered.

"If she is sleeping on her back I come at 9", he said.

Always take a bomb

We are going on holiday, me and my wife. And we are going by plane. Normally we go by car, but  this year we are flying. I have always been a little bit afraid of flying. And after we ordered our holiday there have been several accidents and lots of lives have been lost. I am worried.

I talked to Uncle Jack about it.

- Don't worry, it's the safest way to travel, he said.

I was not convinced. I'm afraid a terrorist of some kind will be on board with a bomb.

- What's the probability of that? was his reaction. Think of the thousands of flights everyday. When did you last hear about a bomb on a plane? The probability of someone with a bomb on a plane is extremely small.

I must still have looked dubious, for he added:

- Bring a bomb yourself. The probability of two people bringing a bomb on the same plane is infinitesimal, it is almost non-existent.

Uncle Jack has a solution to every problem.