Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 18, 1998

A little house with three bedrooms and one car on the street,
A mower that you had to push to make the grass look neat.

In the kitchen on the wall we only had one phone,
And no need for recording things, someone was always home.

We only had a living room where we would congregate,
Unless it was at mealtime in the kitchen where we ate.

We had no need for family rooms or extra rooms to dine,
When meeting as a family those two rooms would work out fine.

We only had one TV set, and channels maybe two,
But always there was one of them with something worth the view.

For snacks we had potato chips that tasted like a chip,
And if you wanted flavor there was Lipton’s onion dip.

Store-bought snacks were rare because my mother liked to cook,
And nothing can compare to snacks in Betty Crockery’s book.

The snacks were even healthy with the best ingredients,
No labels with a hundred things that make not a bit of sense.

Weekends were for family trips or staying home to play,
We all did things together — even go to church to pray.

When we did our weekend trips depending on the weather,
No one stayed at home because we liked to be together.

Sometimes we would separate to do things on our own,
But we knew where the others were without our own cell phone.

Then there were the movies with your favorite movie star,
And nothing can compare to watching movies in your car.

Then there were the picnics at the peak of summer season,
Pack a lunch and find some trees and never need a reason.

Get a baseball game together with all the friends you know,
Have real action playing ball — and no game video.

Remember when the doctor used to be the family friend,
And didn’t need insurance or a lawyer to defend?

The way that he took care of you or what he had to do,
Because he took an oath and strived to do the best for you.

Remember going to the store and shopping casually,
And when you went to pay for it you used your own money?

Nothing that you had to swipe or punch in some amount,
Remember when the cashier person had to really count?

Remember when we breathed the air; it smelled so fresh and clean,
And chemicals were not used on the grass to keep it green.

The milkman used to go from door to door,
And it was just a few cents more than going to the store.

There was a time when mailed letters came right to your door,
Without a lot of junk mail ads sent out by every store.

The mailman knew each house by name and knew where it was sent;
There were not loads of mail addressed to “present occupant.”

Remember when the words “I do” meant that you really did,
And not just temporarily “til someone blows their lid.”

T’was no such thing as “no one’s fault; we just made a mistake,”
There was a time when married life was built on give and take.

There was a time when just one glance was all that it would take,
And you would know the kind of car, the model and the make.

They didn’t look like turtles trying to squeeze out every mile;
They were streamlined, white walls, fins, and really had some style.

One time the music that you played whenever you would jive,
Was from a vinyl, big-holed record called a forty-five.

The record player had a post to keep them all in line,
And then the records would drop down and play one at a time.

Oh sure, we had our problems then, just like we do today,
And always we were striving, trying for a better way.

And every year that passed us by brought new and greater things,
We now can even program phones with music or with rings.

Oh, the simple life we lived still seems like so much fun,
How can you explain a game, just kick the can and run?

And why would boys put baseball cards between bicycle spokes,
And for a nickel red machines had little bottled Cokes?

This life seemed so much easier and slower in some ways,
I love the new technology but I sure miss those days.

So, time moves on and so do we, and nothing stays the same,
But I sure love to reminisce and walk down memory lane.

Author Unknown - Please comment if you know the author so credit can be given
Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 17, 1997

A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children
while they drew. She would occasionally walk around to see each
child’s work.

As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she
asked what the drawing was? The girl replied, “I’m drawing God.”
The teacher paused and said, “But no one knows what God looks
like.” Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing,
the girl replied, “They will in a minute.”

——–

A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with
her five and six year olds. After explaining the commandment to
“honor” thy Father and thy mother,” she asked, “is there a
commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and
sisters?” Without missing a beat one little boy (the oldest of
a family) answered, “Thou shalt not kill.”

——–

An honest seven-year-old admitted calmly to her parents that
Billy Brown had kissed her after class. “How did that happen?”
gasped her mother.

“It wasn’t easy,” admitted the young lady, “but three girls
helped me catch him.”

——–

One day a little girl was sitting and watching her mother do the
dishes at the kitchen sink. She suddenly noticed that her mother
has several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her
brunette head.

She looked at her mother and inquisitively asked, “Why are some
of your hairs white, Mom?” Her mother replied, “Well, every time
that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of
my hairs turns white.”

The little girl thought about this revelation for a while and
then said, “Momma, how come ALL of grandma’s hairs are white?”

——–

A three-year-old went with his dad to see a litter of kittens.
On returning home, he breathlessly informed his mother that
there were two boy kittens and two girl kittens. “How did you
know?” his mother asked.

“Daddy picked them up and looked underneath,” he replied. “I
think it’s printed on the bottom.”

Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 16, 2006

My poem, The Dash, is based on that little line on a tombstone, between the dates of birth and death. Ultimately, that dash is a symbol which represents every day we’ve spent alive on earth. Therefore, how you spend your “dash” is all that really matters. Following is an amazing story about someone whose dash truly made a difference.

Recently I heard about a little girl named Hope Stout. After learning more about her life, I couldn’t help but feel it was not by coincidence, nor happenstance, that she had been named “Hope.” It had to be attributed to fate. The compassion and generosity housed in her young heart made a lasting impression on me and countless others, and her legacy of love continues to bless lives every day. Though I never had the opportunity to meet her, I wish I had. It seems as though she was wise beyond her tender years and very, very special. When I tell people her story, I always say, “if this doesn’t inspire you, I don’t think there’s much that could…”

Hope was a twelve-year old girl who was offered a “wish” in early December 2003 by the “Make-A-Wish” Foundation after being informed that she had a rare type of bone cancer. However, when she found out that more than 150 children in her area were waiting for their wishes to be granted, she unselfishly used her wish to ask that those children have their wishes granted. She also asked that it be done by January 16, 2004. Unfortunately, however, the organization informed her that her noble request could not be granted as the funds were simply unavailable. They calculated that they would need to raise more than one million dollars in thirty days in order to grant her wish. Disappointed, but not discouraged, she turned her dismay into an enthusiasm that inspired caring individuals to spearhead fundraising to help grant the wishes of the other children, and eventually hers as well. Newspaper columnists and reporters for radio and TV stations shared the story of this caring young girl who had touched the hearts of so many and as word spread, the community was challenged. Committees were formed and schools, corporations and various organizations assisted in raising money to help bring Hope’s dream to fruition.

Though she lost her battle in 2004, knowing that her wish was going to come true, Hope lives on. Her heartfelt efforts were not in vain as they continue to help others, not only physically, but spiritually and emotionally as well. At the initial fundraiser and gathering to celebrate her life, “A Celebration of Hope” on January 16, 2004, the announcement was made that they had indeed received donations totaling more than one million dollars on behalf of Hope Stout. Her wish had been granted!

-- by Linda Ellis

Originally posted on aromaticcoffees:

When God set the world in place,
when He hung the stars up in space,
when He made the land and the sea,
then He made you and me.
He sat back and saw all that was good,
He saw things to be as they should.
Just one more blessing He had in store;
He created a mother, but whatever for?
He knew a mother would have a special place
to shine His reflection on her child’s face.
A mother will walk the extra mile
just to see her children smile.
She’ll work her fingers to the bone
to make a house into a home.
A mother is there to teach and guide,
a mother will stay right by your side.
She’ll be there through your pain and strife,
she’ll stay constant in your life.
A mother will lend a helping hand
until you have the strength to stand.
She’ll…

View original 122 more words

Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 13, 1993

Inmate Mitchell King had a visitor — his wife. King was serving a six-year jail term in Auckland, New Zealand for armed robbery. But his wife did not want to be away from him for that long. So they held hands… and they stuck. She had rubbed her palms with Super Glue. Their new-found closeness was short-lived. And their separation was painful.

This technique is not recommended for a “close relationship.” But if you want more closeness… if you desire relationships that are deeper and broader, more meaningful and longer-lasting, then remember the acronym for “TRAVEL.”

T is for TRUST – 
Trust is the glue that holds people together (not Super Glue). A relationship will go nowhere without it.

R is for RESPECT 
- “Do not save your loving speeches for your friends till they are dead; do not write them on their tombstones, speak them rather now instead,” writes Anna Cummins. It’s about respecting others and letting them know that you value them.

A is for AFFECTION 
- Sometimes affection means love. Sometimes it means a touch. Always it means kindness.

V is for VULNERABILITY 
- Though we may feel afraid to let another too close, no relationship will go anywhere without risking vulnerability. Entrepreneur Jim Rohn says, “The walls we build around us to keep out the sadness, also keep out the joy.” And the love.

E is for EMOTIONAL INTIMACY 
- Learn to be open. Learn to communicate freely. What kinds of relationships you make are largely determined by how openly you have learned to communicate.

L is for LAUGHTER 
- Victor Borge got it right when he said, “Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.” It’s also the most enjoyable.

For relationships that can really go somewhere, just remember the word “TRAVEL”
… Then enjoy the trip!

Author Unknown - Please comment if you know the author so credit can be given
Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 12, 2012

Our generation had to take a civics test in 8th grade.  Can you pass the test?  Click on the Link below to take the test…

Enjoy, and Good Luck!!!   Kenny T   :-)    Comment and share your scores!!!!   I made a 24….

Citizenship Test Link – (double click here)

Mornnig Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 10, 2000

Who you are speaks louder to me than anything you can say

At the beginning of my 8:00 a.m. class one Monday at University of Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV), I cheerfully asked my students how their weekend had been. One young man said that his weekend had not been very good. He’d had his wisdom teeth extracted. The young man then proceeded to ask me why I always seemed to be so cheerful. His question reminded me of something I’d read somewhere before: “Every morning when you get up, you have a choice about how you want to approach life that day”, I said to the young man. “I choose to be cheerful”. “Let me give you an example”, I continued.

The other 60 students in the class ceased their chatter and began to listen to our conversation. As soon as I got there, I called AAA and asked them to send a tow truck. The secretary in the Provost’s office asked me what had happened. “This is my lucky day”, I replied, smiling. “Your car breaks down and today is your lucky day??” She was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I live 17 miles from here”, I replied. “My car could have broken down anywhere along the freeway. It didn’t. Instead, it broke down in the perfect place: off the freeway, within walking distance of here. I’m still able to teach my class, and I’ve been able to arrange for the tow truck to meet me after class. If my car was meant to break down today, it couldn’t have been arranged in a more convenient fashion.” The secretary’s eyes opened wide, and then she smiled. I smiled back and headed for class.’ So ended my story to the students in my economics class at UNLV.

I scanned the 60 faces in the lecture hall. Despite the early hour, no one seemed to be asleep. Somehow, my story had touched them. Or maybe it wasn’t the story at all. In fact, it had all started with a student’s observation that I was cheerful. A wise man once said: “Who you are speaks louder to me than anything you can say”. I suppose it must be so.

Author: Lee Ryan Miller - story from his book "Teaching Amidst the Neon Palm Trees"  
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