Last week on TV, I saw a Harrison Ford movie—the one where he’s on a perilous quest for a mysterious crystal skull. That reminded me of the day many years ago when I, personally, stumbled into the world of the crystal skull. This is true.
I’d driven my mother to Kitchener, Ontario, so she could visit a friend of hers. Her friend, it turned out, had an interesting past. Stashed in the woman’s closet was a case containing… yes… a crystal skull.
The woman’s father supposedly was a British explorer. She claimed she had accompanied him on an expedition to Central America in the 1920s, where he (they) discovered the artifact. The details of how they found it were murky, but the “thing” did look like a human skull made of clear crystal. The details of the supernatural powers of the skull were also a bit murky.
I held it in my hands. It was heavy and perfectly done, with no tool marks. I must not be susceptible to magic. As far as I know, my close encounter didn’t affect me one way or the other.
The Lone Ranger and Tonto walked into a bar and sat down for a beer. A few minutes later a tall cowboy came in and said, “Who owns the big white horse outside?”
The Lone Ranger stood, hitched up his gun belt, and said, “I do. Why?”
“I thought you’d like to know that your horse is just about dead out there,” said the cowboy.
The Lone Ranger and Tonto rushed out and, sure enough, Silver had nearly expired from heat exhaustion. The Lone Ranger got him some water and made him drink it. Soon Silver seemed to feel a little better.
“Tonto,” said the Lone Ranger, “I want you to run around Silver and see if you can create enough breeze to cool him off a little more.”
Tonto took off, running circles around Silver while the Lone Ranger went back inside to finish his drink.
A few minutes later, another cowboy walked into the bar and asked, “Who owns that big white horse outside?”
“I do,” said the Lone Ranger. “What’s wrong with him this time?”
“Nothing much,” said the cowboy. “I just wanted you to know that you left your injun running.”
A three-year-old boy went with his dad to see a neighbor’s new litter of kittens. On returning home, he breathlessly informed his mother, “There were two boy kittens and two girl kittens!”
“How did you know that?” his mother asked.
“Daddy picked them up and looked underneath,” he replied. “I think it’s printed on the bottom.”
Words to the wise
Be nice to your kids. They’ll choose your nursing home.