A Fate Worse than Death

Anne and Marius celebrated their Golden Anniversary, 50 years of marriage!!!

50 years is a long time. In the future many people will have been through several marriages in that span of time. But not so in Anne and Marius' generation. You stuck with what you got and tried to make the best of it. You had made a vow in front of God in a time when religion was about faith and not ideology.

Theirs had not always been an easy life. First a small farmstead with hard work from dawn to evening. Then factory work for Marius and, when the kids had left home, also for Anne.

They had made it, though, and were now enjoying old age together in a small house.

The big day was celebrated with friends and family. Lots of photographs were taken. 

The local newspaper was there, and the young female reporter asked Anne: "Did you never think of divorce in all those years?".

Anne thought for a while. "I sometimes thought of killing him", she said. "But of divorce, never!".

Camel Seen Through the Eyes of Others

Joe, the American, moved to the Middle East.

He had a good job in a bank, lived in a nice bungalow with a nice swimming pool just outside town, and in general enjoyed his new life.

He did not know anything about the local people, though. He would like to get a bit closer to them and their way of life, so he bought himself a camel and rode it to work in the morning and to his home in the evening.

Everything went well for a while, but one morning the camel wasn't there. It had been stolen.

He went to the police to report the matter, hoping they could him get his stolen camel back.

"What was the colour of your camel?", the police officer asked Joe.

"Well, let me think. Grey or brown or green or something. Actually, I haven't really noticed."

"Did it have one or two humps?"

"Well", Joe hesitated. "I haven't really paid attention to that. You know I just threw my saddle over the back and rode it."

"Was it a male or a female camel?", the officer asked in desperation.

"It was a male", came the prompt answer from Joe.

The officer looked at him in amazement. "How come you know the sex of the camel, as you seem to know nothing else about it?"

"Well that's easy", Joe said. "When I ride down high street every day, I see people pointing and hear them say "look at the dick on that camel!!"".

Rationing may Dammage Your Health

Some people are stubborn. Some people are very stubborn and will hold on to their rights no matter what. My Grandfather was of the latter type - I have been told so by several of his ten children.

He died when I was twelve. He was then in his early eighties. It was at the time when people first started talking - although incredulously - of the possible damaging health effect of smoking.

I had never seen my Grandfather smoke and I asked my Dad if he ever did.

- Well, he did when he was young. Then he stopped when your Aunt Augusta was born - it was too expensive. Then he smoked again from the beginning of the Second World War until 1949.

- Was it because of the war that he started?, I wanted to know.

- I guess you can say that, my Dad answered. You see, tobacco and a lot of other things were rationed during the war. You got coupons you had to hand in, when you bought something, and so you could only buy small quantities, especially of goods like tobacco and coffee. Your Grandfather didn't like other people to get what he was entitled to so he smoked while the rationing was in force and stopped when it was over.

- So don't always stand on your right, he warned me, it might not always be for your own good.

Wanted: Professionals

I was out walking the dog in the early afternoon and came across my Uncle Jack. He was evidently in a good mood and he was smiling.

"I had a stroke of good luck today", he said. "You know the two Persian rugs we got for my second wedding. I have been looking for a long time for some professional cleaners. There are so many around, who don't know how to do it properly, and I don't want them ruined."

"But this morning a saw a van in front of my neighbour's house. Two men were loading a few rugs into the back. I went over to talk to them. They had just set up business, had been properly trained in the right methods of cleaning valuable rugs, and know they had started a small business in a town nearby. They talked professionally about the quality of the rugs, and I decided that those were the men I needed for having my rugs cleaned. They were very friendly and agreed to take my rugs with them right away. I went to my house to get them and put them into the car. They will be ready in two days, and the will be brought to my house without any extra charge. It is nice to come across some real professionals."

I walked on, and came across Uncle Jack's neighbour. He was evidently not in a good mood. 

"What is this world coming to", he asked. "You can't even leave your house for a couple of hours in broad daylight. I went to the bank today, was away for a maximum of two hours and when I came back, my house had been burgled. They must have been professionals. All my oriental rugs have been taken - nothing else."

I should be phoning Uncle Jack, but I keep putting it off.

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.