You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.
– C.S. Lewis
First, let me thank all of you who sent examples of your cursive writing after my recent comments about my own penmanship failings.
It’s nice to know that some can still write and write wonderfully.
Thanks, also, for your comments, such as those sent from Seth Benson in Millen.
“I was taught the Palmer Method,” he said by e-mail, “and, as a consequence, have received raves for my penmanship. I can’t imagine why many of the dingbats in education now would want to abandon cursive. If one has to sign their name from time to time, how will they do that without cursive? Oh, I know with online banking, etc., the need to write and sign checks may disappear, but there are many other times people will have to employ cursive.
“As a teacher for over 40 years, I had to decipher some really terrible chicken scratching, but was always able to do it. My pharmacist has too, and we often wonder if indecipherable handwriting was a course taught in medical school?”
ON THE ROAD: Who would travel between Thanksgiving and Christmas? Greg Brooks, of course. He sends a postcard from Nashville, Tenn. “Saw the Radio City Rockettes at the Grand Ole Opry,” he wrote.
SATELLITE CAMERA: You know how you can go online and plug in a street name and a picture of the road will show up? You can even click along and follow the road.
Well, my co-worker Dustin Turner and I were reviewing this technological wonder the other morning when Dustin suddenly realized that he was following his own car down the highway. It seems the camera truck that takes such photos was following his vehicle the morning it filmed.
I told my wife about it, and chuckled that I should keep checking the satellite photos of our neighborhood because they might catch me outside working diligently in the yard.
“Unlikely,” she suggested tersely.
TODAY’S CHRISTMAS JOKE: If you have a Christmas joke to share, e-mail it to my address. Here’s one from Paul Reviere:
Shortly before Christmas, a businessman was eager to get home. The business trip had been grueling, and he was not in a particularly good mood. The airport loudspeakers blared Christmas carols he was sick of hearing.
He thought their decorations were tacky. The worst decoration, he thought, was the plastic mistletoe hung over the luggage scale. Being in a grumpy mood, he said to the woman at the counter, “You know, even if I weren’t married, I wouldn’t kiss you.”
“That’s not what it’s there for,” the attendant said. “It’s so you can kiss your luggage goodbye.”