Wednesday, June 28, 2006

THE ROCK PROFESSOR

A neighbor is making a dry stream bed to accommodate drainage. He said the project reminds him of the first landscaping project he ever attempted. He went to the lumber yard to buy rocks. Once he saw the wide variety of shapes and sizes to choose from, he realized he was in over his head. He stopped, looking to and fro in perplexity.

An old timer came by. He was unshaven. He wore overalls. He whistled his “s’s.”

“Hiya, Sssssonny,” he said in a friendly manner. “First time buyin’ rocksssss?”

“Well, yes,” the younger man said.

“Well, let me tell you sssssomethin’,” the old timer said. His pupil leaned forward, anticipating great wisdom and rock-buying lore passed down through the ages.

“You’ve got to buy rocksssssss that are too big to move,” the geezer said.

“Too big to move?” the younger man wondered.

“Yeah, ‘cause if you buy rockssssss any ssssssmaller than that, your wife will have you movin’ ‘em every year to sssssomewhere elsssssse,” he said. “If they’re too big to move, you put ‘em down one time, and you’re ssssssafe.”

They never teach you that in Husband School. Maybe they ssssshould.

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