October 7, 2020
It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.
I am off to an early doctor’s appointment so here are my thoughts from years ago.
Ray’s Daily fst published on October 7, 2009
In a conversation with a friend the other day we talked about Indianapolis, the city in which I live. As our talk continued we examined our view of what our city is and what it has to offer. Naturally there were comparisons made with other cities, their attributes versus ours. Some of our focus was on institutions like museums, recreational areas, theatre, restaurants and the like. In my case I sang the praises of the Art Institute in Chicago, Theatre in New York, Shows in Las Vegas, Gulf Coast beaches, Southern Barbecue and the like, all good stuff.
I really enjoy partaking what others have to offer but I truly like what we have, we don’t draw from a diverse population of millions but we do have our own special gifts. Our Art Museum is excellent and is always rewarding, of course our Indianapolis Colts Football time is world renowned, while none of our restaurants will ever be rated as 4 star in the Michelin Guide they do offer a wide variety of great experiences. We do benefit from major visiting Musical road shows, concerts and so on but to be honest not as many as we would find elsewhere and for that I am grateful for the result is a wide variety of modestly priced theatrical and dance organizations that bring a special brand of theatre to us. The intimacy that comes from the bond between performers and their audiences is really special.
I love our easy access to so many great things, all close by, all special in their own way. We get some great experiences without the hassle or the expense found elsewhere. For me I am not interested in us aspiring to be the biggest, loudest, or gaudiest what a I want us to do is appreciate what we have and always do what we can to be the best of what we are, a great place to live. Life is grand if you appreciate what you have and don’t long for what you don’t have.
Here is a story about a child that understands what I mean:
One day . . . a wealthy family man took his son on a trip to the country, so he could have his son see how poor country people live. They stayed one day and one night in the home of a very humble farmer. At the end of the trip, and when they were back home, the father asked his son, “What did you think of the trip?”
The son replied, “Very nice dad.”
Then the father asked his son, “Did you notice how poor they were?”
The son replied, “Yes.”
The father continued asking, “What did you learn?”
The son responded, “I learned that we have one dog in our house, and they have four.
Also, we have a fountain in our garden, but they have a stream that has no end.
And we have imported lamps in our garden . . . where they have the stars!
And our garden goes to the edge of our property. But they have the entire horizon as their back yard!”
At the end of the son’s reply the father was speechless.
His son then said, “Thank you dad for showing me how poor we really are.”
Isn’t it true that all depends on the lens you use to see life? One can ask himself what would happen if we give thanks for what we have instead of always asking for more.
Learn to appreciate what you have. Wealth is all in one’s point of view.
“Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”
So there’s this soldier who is all excited about joining the army. He heads for the local recruiter’s office and says he’s psyched to join. The recruiter says “Hey, great! Here’s your gun,” and hands the new soldier a broomstick.
The new dude says, “Hang on, what kind of a gun is this? It doesn’t even have a bayonet!” The Sarge ties a piece of string on the end, and says “You’re all set now, just head out to the battle front, point your gun, and say ‘Bangity-Bangity-Bang’ and the gun will work fine. Swing it around, and say ‘Stabity-Stabity-Stab’ and the bayonet will do its thing.” The soldier is a sceptic, but he’s also not the brightest guy, so he believes the Sarge and heads for the battle front.
There he is, in the middle of all the fighting, with a crazed look in his eye. He picks up his trusty broomstick, and waves it around at the enemy, saying “Bangity-Bangity-Bang!, Stabity-Stabity-Stab!, Bangity-Bangity-Bang!, Stabity-Stabity-Stab!” To his amazement, everyone on the field is completely wiped out. Everyone, that is, except for one fighter, who is advancing very slowly and steadily toward our hero.
The soldier thinks, “Hey, no sweat,” and aims his broomstick. “Bangity-Bangity-Bang!” No difference — the enemy soldier keeps advancing, slowly and steadily. Our man waves his weapon threateningly and says “Stabity-Stabity-Stab!” Still nothing. The enemy advances steadily toward the soldier. He bumps into the soldier, knocks him down, advances up over his legs, stomach, chest, and face and continues over the other side — slow and steady.
As the enemy moves away, the soldier hears him saying “Tankity-Tankity-Tank.”
“The income tax has made liars out of more Americans than golf.”
Mama goes shopping and scrutinizes everything. Here is how her shopping went..
Mama: “I don’t like the looks of this whitefish.”
Merchant: “Lady, for looks you don’t buy whitefish; you buy goldfish.”
Mama: “Oy, and this chicken, it has a broken leg.”
Merchant: “Look lady, you gonna eat it or dance with it?”
Mama: “And before you weigh the meat, take out the bones.”
Merchant: “Lady, I buy with bones; you’ll buy with bones.”
Mama: “I don’t pay with bones.”
Merchant: “All right, no bones.”
Mama: “Thank you, you are a gentleman. Now put the bones in a separate bag for soup. And never mind the meat. I don’t like your meat anyhow.”
“I Wish the Buck Stopped Here — I Could Use a Few”
A fellow in a bar notices a woman, always alone, who comes in on a fairly regular basis.
After the second week, he made his move. “No thank you,” she said politely.”
“This may sound rather odd in this day and age, but I’m keeping myself pure until I meet the man I love.”
“That must be rather difficult,” the man replied.
“Oh, I don’t mind too much,” she said. “But, it has my husband pretty upset.”
“I don’t mind going back to daylight saving time. With inflation, the hour will be the only thing I’ve saved all year.”
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal and says to the first man he meets, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
The man said, “I do Father.”
The priest said, “Then leave this pub right now!” and approached a second man. “Do you want to got to heaven?”
“Certainly, Father,” was the man’s reply.
“Then leave this den of Satan,” said the priest, as he walked up to O’Toole. “Do you want to go to heaven?”
“No, I don’t Father,” O’Toole replied.
The priest looked him right in the eye, and said, “You mean to tell me that when you die you don’t want to go to heaven?”
O’Toole smiled, “Oh, when I die, yes, Father. I thought you were getting a group together to go right now.”
Ignorant men don’t know what good they hold in their hands until they’ve flung it away.
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies. The editor is somewhat senile.
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