This Best of Jim’s Jottings first appeared on July 8, 2009.
Our exposure to politicians is almost suffocating. There is a lot of braying around and there will be more of them trumpeting from the other side of the political fence.
Which reminds me of an old joke concerning a mule named Horace.
Horace belonged to Mrs. Wood. One evening she called the vet to report that Horace was sick. The vet was busy and told Mrs. Wood to give him a dose of mineral oil.
‘How will I give it to him?? she inquired.
‘Through a funnel,? the doctor answered.
‘But he might bite me,? she protested.
‘Now, you are a farm woman,? the Doc said, ‘and you should know about these things. Give the mineral oil to him through the other end.?
She looked around for a funnel and finally settled on her late husband’s gold-plated fox hunting horn. She took it and fixed it properly to Horace, who paid no attention.
She reached into the cabinet and instead of getting the mineral oil she doused Horace with a bottle of turpentine.
Horace raised his head with a sudden jerk, let out a loud bray, jumped the stall and started down the road at a mad gallop.
Horace was in pain and every few jumps that old fox horn would let out a blast. Which alerted all the hunting dogs in the countryside, who know what a blast on that horn meant, so out on the highway they lit out after Horace.
It was a marvelous sight!
First came Horace with the hunting horn in a most unusual position and trumpeting with every other step. The dog pack came in close pursuit, barking joyously.
By this time it was getting good and dark, and Horace and the dogs noisily approached a draw bridge tended by a man running for sheriff.
The bridge tender would-be sheriff heard the horn attached to Horace blowing and thought it was a boat approaching, so he cranked up the bridge. Horace went overboard and drowned. The dogs went into the water, but managed to struggle ashore.
Come election day, the bridge tender lost his race for sheriff, having collected only seven votes (all from relatives).
It seems the good folks of the county figured any man who didn’t know the difference between a mule with a horn at the rear and a boat coming down stream wasn’t fit to hold public office.
So, next election time, look out for Horace and the politicians who, like the bridge tender, don’t know the difference.
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Well, let’s switch to cows for just a minute. I wrote about sellers of beef bragging about Angus tenderness, when I’ve concluded Angus isn’t particularly tender. I said Angus pushers were, in effect, slamming Holsteins, Jerseys and Guernseys.
A Novi on-line reader of our paper wrote: ‘Obviously, Jim didn’t grow up on a farm! Angus, Herefords, Shorthorns, et al, are beef breeds where bulls are neutered to steers and raised specifically for our table.
‘Guernseys, Holsteins, Jersey and Brown Swiss are dairy breeds raised for milk and rarely used for beef. Just a minor correction, Jim.?
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Like this cow stuff?
A farmer is milking his cow and as he is milking, a fly comes along and flies into the cow’s ear. A little bit later, the farmer notices the fly in the milk.
The farmer says, ‘Hmph. In one ear and out the udder.?