You got to be careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.
– Yogi Berra
I envy many of you traveling this summer. When I used to go on vacations, it was the destination, not the journey: I went somewhere, usually, as fast as I could. Spent some time, then hurried home.
Many of you, however, seem to be enjoying the ride, which I think must be the better way.
Take Dick McCoppin, of Augusta. He took off a few weeks ago and his post cards began to make their way back to the newspaper. His first card, dated July 18, came from the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville. “Elvis,” he reported, “had left the building.”
Then came cards from Nebraska, where he not only visited the state capitol in Lincoln, but also saw an old apartment where he used to live.
Next came a card on the way to Iowa, a quick trip, he said, because the speed limit on Interstate 80 was 75 mph and he had to go faster to keep up with the traffic.
In Minneapolis, he added a post card from the new Target Field baseball park to my collection. In South Dakota he visited Mount Rushmore. And his next a card from North Dakota reported buffalo sightings and more 75 mph speed limits. Then came a card from “hot and dry” Wyoming. (It sounds like a great adventure, Dick.)
Other summer travelers include Russell and Sheryl Pate, of Wadley, Ga., who also sent cards from their great trip out West. One from Yosemite National Park, one from Oregon and one from the Grand Canyon in Arizona. The Boohers sent a funny card showing prime housing in West Virginia – outhousing.
And having a good time in Clanton, Ala., at the Messer Family Reunion, were Corney and Isabelle Messer.
Are you still traveling? We need post cards from Hawaii, Connecticut, Indiana, Maryland and New Hampshire to complete our list.
TODAY’S JOKE: Here’s one shared by Bill Wood, of Hephzibah.
It seems a guy was sitting at the bar staring at his drink when a large, trouble-making biker steps up next to him, grabs his drink and gulps it down in one swig.
“Whatcha’ gonna do about it?” the biker says menacingly, as the guy burst into tears.
“Come on, man,” the biker says quietly, “I didn’t think you’d CRY.”
“Well, it’s the worst day of my life,” the man says. “I was late to a meeting and my boss fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had been stolen. I left my wallet in the cab I took home. That’s where I found my wife with another man. So I came to this bar to work up the courage to put an end to it all. I buy a drink, drop a capsule in it and as I am sitting here watching the poison dissolve, you show up and drink the whole thing!”