Jokes I Like to Tell
One time a Massachusetts Yankee, a gifted musician, decided to move to southern Alabama for a teaching position. He decided that he wanted to live a ways outside the big city where his university was, and because he was a faithful Christian, he soon found himself attending a small country church there. He enjoyed the preaching very much, and the people were wonderful to him, but the music was a grief to his soul.
The third Sunday there, a miracle happened. The current choir director, whose aptitude was somewhat limited, announced that he had taken a job out of the area and was going to be leaving within just a few months. And then, to compound the miracle, the pastor approached the Yankee almost immediately and asked him if he would consider taking over the position of choir director. He said, naturally enough, trying to conceal his excitement, that he would be happy to consider it, and so the following Sunday afternoon, he arranged to come and sit in the back of the church to hear the choir working through their paces.
Halfway through that practice, it became increasingly difficult to hear the choir because of an approaching thunder storm—the kind that Alabama knows how to conjure up from time to time. And then, when the thunder storm was directly over the church—which had a metal roof—the sky suddenly cut loose with a fierce cascading volley of hail, the famous kind that weather casters like to talk about, the kind that are the size of golf balls.
At this the startled Yankee jumped up out of his seat, completely frightened, and exclaimed in a loud voice, “That sounds like hail.”
The outgoing choir director turned around in exasperation. “Oh, c’mon. They’re not that bad.”
An Ordinary Open Road. Still Nice.
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Now Here’s An Idea, Safeway!
And There You Have It
