 Cover Item:
"The Sound"
via G. Green
A man's car broke down as he was driving past a beautiful old monastery. He walked up the drive and knocked on the front door. A monk answered, listened to the man's story and graciously invited him to spend the night.
The monks fed the man and led him to a tiny chamber in which to sleep. The man thanked the monks and slept serenely until he was awakened by a strange and beautiful sound.The next morning, as the monks were repairing his car, he asked about the sound that had woke him.
"We're sorry," the monks said. "We can't tell you about the sound. You're not a monk."
The man was disappointed, but eager to be gone, so he thanked the monks for their kindness and went on his way. During quiet moments afterward, the man pondered the source of the alluring sound. By now the man's curiosity had turned to obsession. He decided to give up everything and become a monk, for that was the only way he could learn about the sound. He informed the monks of his decision and began the long and arduous task of becoming a monk.
Seventeen years later, the man was finally established as a true member of the order. When the celebration ended, he humbly went to the leader of the order and asked to be told the source of the sound.
Silently, the old monk led the new monk to a huge wooden door. He opened the door with a golden key. That door swung open to reveal a second door of silver, then a third of gold and so on until they had passed through twelve doors, each more magnificent than the last. The new monk's face was awash with tears of joy as he finally beheld the wondrous source of the beautiful mysterious sound he had heard so many years before...
But, I can't tell you what it was... because you're not a monk !!!!!
The Middle Item:
"A Little Fun"
via G. Green
I went to the store the other day. I was only in there for about five minutes. When I came out there was a city cop writing out a parking ticket.
I went up to him and said, "Come on Buddy, how about giving a senior a break?"
He ignored me and continued writing the ticket.
I called him a name. He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn tires.
So I called him a worse name. He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he started writing a third ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more I abused him the more tickets he wrote.
I didn't care. My car was parked around the corner and this one had an "Elect John Kerry" sticker on it.
I try to have a little fun each day now that I'm retired.
The Last Item:
"The Blonde"
via G. Green
A father, son and grandson go out to the country club for their weekly round of golf. Just as they reach the first tee, a beautiful young blonde woman carrying her bag of clubs approaches them. She explains that the member who brought her to the club for a round of golf had an emergency which called him away and asks the trio whether she can join them.
Naturally, the guys all agree. Smiling, the blonde thanks them and says, "Look, fellows, I work in a topless bar as a dancer, so nothing shocks me anymore. If any of you wants to smoke cigars, have a beer, bet, swear or tell off-color stories or do anything that you normally do when playing a round together, go ahead. But I enjoy playing golf, consider myself pretty good at it, so don't try to coach me on how to play my shots."
With that the guys agree to relax and invite her to drive first. All eyes are fastened on her shapely behind as she bends to place her ball on the tee. She then takes her driver and hits the ball 270 yards down the middle, right in front of the green. The father's mouth is agape.
"That was beautiful," said the dad. The blonde puts her driver away and says, "I really didn't get into it and I should have faded it a little."
After the three guys hit their drives and their second shots (she was closest to the pin) the blonde takes out a nine iron and lofts the ball within five feet of the hole.
The son says "dang, lady, you played that perfectly."
The blonde frowns and says, "it was a little weak. I've left a tricky little putt." After the son buries a long putt for a par, dad two putts for a bogey and granddad overruns the green with his pitching wedge, chips back and putts for a double bogey, the blonde taps in the five-footer for a birdie.
The guys all congratulate her on her fine game. She puts her putter back in the bag and says, "Thanks, but I really haven't played much lately, and I'm a little rusty. "Maybe I'll really get into this next drive."
Having the honors, she drives first on the second hole and knocks the heck out of the ball, and it lands nearly 300 yards away smack in the middle of the fairway. For the rest of the round the statuesque blonde continues to amaze the guys, quietly and methodically shooting for par or less on every hole.
When they get to the 18th green, the blonde is three under par, but has a very nasty 12-foot putt on an undulating green for a par. She turns to the three guys and says, "I really want to thank you all for not acting like a bunch of chauvinists and telling me what club to use or how to play a shot, but I need this putt for a 69 and I'd really like to break 70 on this course. If any one of you can tell me how to make par on this hole, I'll take him back to my apartment, pour some 25-year old Royal Salute Scotch in him, fix him dinner and then show him a good time the rest of the night."
The yuppie son jumps at the thought. He strolls across the green, carefully eyes the line of the putt and finally says, "Honey, aim about 6 inches to the right of the hole and hit it firm. It will get over that little hump and break right into the cup."
The father kneels down and sights the putt using his putter as a plumb. "Don't listen to the kid, darlin', you want to hit it softly 10 inches to the right and run it left down that little hogback, so it falls into the cup."
The old gray haired grandfather walks over to the blonde's ball on the green, picks it up and hands it to the her. "That's a gimme, sweetheart. Your car or mine?"
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