Can You Bear It?

Bob Semple was a pioneer Labour MP in NZ with a colourful turn of phrase; e.g. of an opposing MP who had written his autobiography, he said “I could write his biography on the back of penny stamp with a carpenter’s pencil.” When accused of having timber in Australia, he said “I wouldn’t have enough timber in Australia to build an outhouse for a cockroach”. When on his soapbox in the street, an expensive car cruised by he complained “ these bloated plutocrats drive by in luxury while all we get is the stink of their benzine.”

(perhaps some senior MM readers can remember some others.. send to Ed.)

The passenger tapped the taxi driver on the shoulder to ask him something. The driver screamed, lost control of the car, nearly hit a bus, went up on the sidewalk, and stopped inches from a department store window.  For a second everything went quiet in the cab, then the driver said, “Look mister, don’t ever do that again. You scared me half to death!” The passenger apologized and said he didn’t realize that a little tap could scare him so much.  The driver replied, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Really, it’s not your fault. Today is my first day as a cab driver. I’ve been driving a hearse for 25 years.”

Several days ago as I left a meeting at our church, I desperately gave myself a personal pat down. I was looking for my keys. They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room revealed nothing. Suddenly I realized, I must have left them in the car. Frantically I headed for the parking lot. My wife, Diane, has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them. Her theory is that the car will be stolen. As I burst through the doors of the church, I came to a terrifying conclusion. Her theory was right. The parking lot was empty. I immediately call the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been stolen. Then I made the most difficult call of all, “Honey,” I stammered. I always call her “honey” in times like these. “I left my keys in the car, and it has been stolen.” There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard Diane’s voice, “Ken,” she barked, “I dropped you off!” Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, “Well, come and get me.” Diane retorted, “I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your car!”