Light plus Weighty

Art – Tricks the Eyes …

Posted on March 9, 2019. Filed under: Light plus Weighty |

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The Old n the Young …

Posted on March 4, 2019. Filed under: Light plus Weighty |

An old physician, Doctor Gordon Geezer, became very bored in retirement and decided to re-open a medical clinic.

He put a sign up outside that said: “Dr. Geezer’s clinic. Get your treatment for $500 – if not cured, get back $1,000.

Doctor Digger Young, who was positive that this old geezer didn’t know beans about medicine, thought this would be a great opportunity to get $1,000. So he went to Dr. Geezer’s clinic.

Dr. Young: “Dr. Geezer, I have lost all taste in my mouth. Can you please help me?”
Dr. Geezer: “Nurse, please bring medicine from box 22 and put 3 drops in Dr. Young’s mouth.”
Dr. Young: ‘Aaagh! — This is Gasoline!”
Dr. Geezer: “Congratulations! You’ve got your taste back. That will be $500.”

Dr.Young gets annoyed and goes back after a couple of days figuring to recover his money.
Dr.Young: “I have lost my memory, I cannot remember anything.”
Dr. Geezer: “Nurse, please bring medicine from box 22 and put 3 drops in the patient’s mouth.”
Dr. Young: “Oh, no you don’t — that’s Gasoline!
Dr. Geezer: “Congratulations! You’ve got your memory back. That will be $500.”

Dr.Young (after having lost $1000) leaves angrily and comes back after several more days.
Dr.Young: “My eyesight has become weak — I can hardly see anything!”
Dr. Geezer: “Well, I don’t have any medicine for that so here’s your $1000 back” (giving him a $10 bill).
Dr. Young: “But this is only $10!”
Dr.Geezer: “Congratulations! You got your vision back! That will be $500.

Moral of story -Just because you’re “Young” doesn’t mean that you can outsmart an old Geezer.
Remember: Don’t make old people mad. We don’t like being old in the first place, so it doesn’t take much to tick us off.

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Bond? No – Its Sherlock …

Posted on December 30, 2018. Filed under: Light plus Weighty |

The Case of the Missing Aircraft

My notes indicate that it was on a certain wintry December afternoon of the year ’18 that I found myself once more in front of our old barsati at b122, Bekar Street, the starting point of so many remarkable adventures I have had in the company of my friend Mr ‘Chalak’ Om.

I find it recorded in my scribbled memo that I was having difficulty breathing that day on account of Delhi’s polluted air. (I find the same thing recorded also for every other day of the year. In a year or two after that, we learnt to stop breathing in order to cope with the situation.)

https://thewire.in/humour/the-adventures-of-chalak-om-as-chronicled-by-doctor-vatsan

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All About Life …

Posted on September 5, 2018. Filed under: Guide Posts, Light plus Weighty |

This is a wonderful piece by Michael Gartner, editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing. It is well worth reading, and a few good chuckles are guaranteed. Here goes…
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My father never drove a car. Well, that’s not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet.
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“In those days,” he told me when he was in his 90s, “to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it.”
 .
At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in:
“Oh, bull shit!” she said. “He hit a horse.”
 .
“Well,” my father said, “there was that, too.”
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So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars – the Kollingses next door had a green 1941Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford — but we had none.
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My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines , would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.
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My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we’d ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. “No one in the family drives,” my mother would explain, and that was that.
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But, sometimes, my father would say, “But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we’ll get one.” It was as if he wasn’t sure which one of us would turn 16 first.
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But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown.
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It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn’t drive, it more or less became my brother’s car.
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Having a car but not being able to drive didn’t bother my father, but it didn’t make sense to my mother. So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive.
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She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father’s idea. “Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?” I remember him saying more than once.
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For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps — though they seldom left the city limits — and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.
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Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn’t seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage.
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Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.
He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin’s Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish’s two priests was on duty that morning.
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If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home.
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If it was the assistant pastor, he’d take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church. He called the priests “Father Fast” and “Father Slow.”
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After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along.
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If she were going to the beauty parlor, he’d sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio.
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In the evening, then, when I’d stop by, he’d explain: “The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored.”
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If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out — and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream.
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As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, “Do you want to know the secret of a long life?”
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“I guess so,” I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.
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“No left turns,” he said. “What?” I asked
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“No left turns,” he repeated. “Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic..
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As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn.”
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“What?” I said again.
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“No left turns,” he said. “Think about it.. Three rights are the same as a left, and that’s a lot safer. So we always make three rights.”
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“You’re kidding!” I said, and I turned to my mother for support.
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“No,” she said, “your father is right. We make three rights. It works.” But then she added: “Except when your father loses count.” I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing.
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“Loses count?” I asked.
“Yes,” my father admitted, “that sometimes happens. But it’s not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you’re okay again.”
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I couldn’t resist. “Do you ever go for 11?” I asked.
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“No,” he said ” If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can’t be put off another day or another week.”
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My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving.
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That was in 1999, when she was 90. She lived four more years, until 2003.. My father died the next year, at 102.
They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000.
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Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom — the house had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.
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He continued to walk daily — he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he’d fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising — and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died.
 
O.ne September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news.
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A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, “You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred.”
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At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, “You know, I’m probably not going to live much longer.”
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“You’re probably right,” I said. “Why would you say that?” He countered, somewhat irritated. “Because you’re 102 years old,” I said.
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“Yes,” he said, “you’re right.” He stayed in bed all the next day.
That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night. He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: “I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet.”
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An hour or so later, he spoke his last words: “I want you to know,” he said, clearly and lucidly, “that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have.”
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A short time later, he died.
I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I’ve wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long.
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I can’t figure out if it was because he walked through life, or because he quit taking left turns. 
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Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Forget about the ones who don’t. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it & if it changes your life, let it.
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Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would most likely be worth it.
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Australians – Cannot be Beat …

Posted on April 14, 2018. Filed under: Light plus Weighty |

Happy Laughing Happy Weekend.

The 2012 Australian Poetry Competition held in Sydney Opera House had come down to two finalists; A – A university graduate. B – An old aboriginal.

They were given a common word, and then allowed two minutes to reflect on the word and recite a short four line poem that contained the word.    The word they were given was ‘ TIMBUKTU ‘. First to recite his poem was the university graduate. He stepped to the microphone and recited  –

Slowly across the desert sand,
Trekked a lonely caravan
Men on camels two by two
Destination – Timbuktu .

The crowd went crazy! No way could the old aboriginal top that – they thought. The old aboriginal calmly made his way to the microphone and recited –

Me and Tim a huntin’ went
Met three whores in a pop up tent
They were three, and we was two
So I bucked one, and Tim – buk tu .

The aboriginal won, pants down!

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Smile …

Posted on September 30, 2017. Filed under: Light plus Weighty, Searching for Success |

♦ I read that 4,153,237 people got married last year; not to cause any trouble but shouldn’t that be an even number?

♦ When wearing a bikini, women reveal 90% of their body… men are so polite they only look at the covered parts.

♦ A recent study has found that women who carry a little extra weight, live longer than the men who mention it.

♦ Relationships are a lot like algebra Have you ever looked at your X and wondered Y?

♦ America is a country which produces citizens who will cross the ocean to fight for democracy but won’t cross the street to vote.

♦ You know that tingly little feeling you get when you like someone? That’s your common sense leaving your body.

♦ Did you know that dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish?

♦ My therapist says I have a preoccupation with vengeance. We’ll see about that.

♦ I think my neighbor is stalking me as she’s been googling my name on her computer. I saw it through my telescope last night.

♦ Money talks, but all mine ever says is goodbye.

♦ If you think nobody cares whether you’re alive, try missing a couple of car payments.

♦ I always wondered what the job application is like at Hooters. Do they just give you a bra and say, “Here, fill this out?”

♦ Denny’s has a slogan, “If it’s your birthday, the meal is on us.” If you’re in Denny’s and it’s your birthday, your life sucks!

♦ The location of your mailbox shows you how far away from your house you can be in a robe before you start looking like a mental patient.

♦ The reason Mayberry was so peaceful and quiet was because nobody was married. Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney, Floyd, Howard, Goober, Gomer, Sam, Earnest T Bass, Helen, Thelma Lou, Clara and, of course, Opie were all single. The only married person was Otis, and he stayed drunk.

♦ I find it ironic that the colors red, white, and blue stand for freedom until they are flashing behind you.

♦ I think it’s pretty cool how Chinese people made a language entirely out of tattoos.

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Battle of Two Museums …

Posted on September 20, 2017. Filed under: Light plus Weighty, Personalities, Uncategorized |

2017 is undoubtedly the year of the feud. As celebrities and corporations alike take to Twitter to hash things out, two of the UK’s most respected scientific institutions, the Science Museum and the Natural History Museum, have got in on the action.

http://www.newstatesman.com/science-tech/social-media/2017/09/two-museums-are-having-fight-twitter-and-its-gloriously

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The Smart Kid …

Posted on May 23, 2017. Filed under: Light plus Weighty |

This kid will be a success ! He is brilliant!                                                                                    ..

Q1.. In which battle did Napoleon die? …  * His last battle

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Q2.. Where was the Declaration of Independence signed? … * At the bottom of the page
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Q3.. River Ravi flows in which state? …  * Liquid
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Q4.. What is the main reason for divorce? …* Marriage
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Q5.. What is the main reason for failure? …* Exams
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Q6.. What can you never eat for breakfast? … * Lunch & dinner
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Q7.. What looks like half an apple … * The other half
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Q8.. If you throw a red stone into the blue sea what will it become?… * Wet
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 Q9.. How can a man go eight days without sleeping ? …* By sleeping at night.
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Q10. How can you lift an elephant with one hand? …*   You will never find an elephant that has one hand.
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Q11. If you had three apples and four oranges in one hand and four apples and three oranges in other hand, what would you have? … * Very large hands
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Q12. If it took eight men ten hours to build a wall, how long would it take four men to build it? … *No time at all, the wall is already built.
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Q13. How can u drop a raw egg onto a concrete floor without cracking it? … *Any way you want, concrete floors are very hard to crack.
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CHEERS!
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Wonderful Witty Ad …

Posted on January 27, 2017. Filed under: Light plus Weighty |

Carnation Milk 65 Years Ago.

A little old lady from Wisconsin had worked in and around her family dairy farms since she was old enough to walk, with hours of hard work and little compensation.

When canned Carnation Milk became available in grocery stores in the 1940s, she read an advertisement offering $5,000 for the best slogan.The producers wanted a rhyme beginning with ‘Carnation Milk is best of all.

She thought to herself, I know everything there is to know about milk and dairy farms – I can do this!

She sent in her entry and several weeks later a black car pulled up in front of her house. A large man got out, knocked on her door and said, “Ma’am , I am President of Carnation milk. We absolutely LOVED your entry. So much, in fact, that we are here to award you $1,000 even though we will not be able to use it our advertisements!”

He did, however, have one printed up to hang on his office wall.

Carnation Milk is Best of All,
No tits to pull, No  hay to haul,
No buckets to wash, No shit to pitch,
Just Poke a hole in the Son of a Bitch!

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This Wonderful English Language …

Posted on December 24, 2016. Filed under: Guide Posts, Light plus Weighty, The English, Uncategorized |

C. N. Annadurai was a prominent Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, India,  known for his proficiency in English. Once at Yale University he was asked to mention a hundred words which did not have any of the letters –  A, B, C or D.

He promptly recited ‘One to Ninety Nine’ ………….. and then shouted ‘STOP’ – thus completing the one hundred words without any  of the Four Letters !

The next request was to  construct a sentence repeating ‘because’ three times contiguously.

After a moments thought, he says, “A sentence never ends with ‘because,’ because ‘because’ is a conjunction”.

Over to Messrs Shakespeare and Milton!

 

 

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