Roger Allen, publisher.

25 Years Ago…

It was a trip down memory lane. The class of ’84 opened their time capsule a few days ago. Inside, among other memories, were 10 issues of The Rockford Squire. They dated from the first weeks of publication under that name after I bought the original local paper, the Rockford Register.

The papers were full of names I knew well. Jack Schwab was mayor, Dave Bass led the band. There were dozens of others, some of whom are no longer around. Many were friends of mine and I miss them.

A lot of local businesses took out ads in the first few issues. Some are still here and surviving the current downturn. Neil Blakeslee, attorney at law, was there, and The Sewing Room. Sears-Coon’s ad was there, although the business is gone now. Floyd Havemeier’s business was called The Melting Pot, but that successful company has absorbed about four others to become Herman’s Boy in a larger location. J.T. Stitchery was a first customer, and the Old Mill was there. Byrne Electric supported our efforts to start a new paper, and so did Wynalda Litho. Rockford Flower Shop is at its same address and so is Young Insurance. The Squire changed its address, but we’ve hung in here through thick and thin (which is why you can read this).

In a front-page article of issue No. 1, I explained how I named the Squire. In case you missed it, here’s a reprint: “To choose a name for something like a newspaper gives one pause. The name will certainly be before the public often and will, we hope, last for a long, long time. If unsuitable it is not easily changed.

“One cannot think of Rockford these days without some association with Squires Street Square. However, there is a great deal more to Rockford than a part, although a unique part, of its commercial district. Rockford is also the home of many sophisticated people who prefer a smaller city and its quieter pace. Most of us in this area own our own homes, many with some acreage.

“Recalling the English definition of a ‘Squire’ as a ‘landed proprietor or country gentleman,’ there was really little question that the name of the paper should be ‘The Rockford Squire.’ Some variations were considered but ‘The Rockford Squire’ seemed to be the inevitable choice. And so it is named and so it shall be.”

Joke

Judi was startled to see the nonchalant way Jon was taking the fact that his ladylove was seen with another man. “You said you love her and yet you saw her with another man and you didn’t knock the guy down?” “I’m waiting,” Jon said. “Waiting for what?” asked Judi. “Waiting to catch her with a smaller guy.”

Diet time?

You are diagnosed with the flesh-eating virus and the doctor gives you 22 more years to live.

Roger Allen, publisher

Fixing the glitch    

We are a capitalist country. If a family opens a little shop and invests all their money in it, hoping to make a living, what happens if it fails?  The owners go broke and out of business, right?  That’s the way it’s always been, and still is, around here.

A different system applies to Wall Street and the credit industry. If they go out on a limb hoping to make $millions, and they don’t do it right, we give them a few $billion to stay in business.

Why the difference? It’s because they are “too big to fail,” meaning if they go down they take the rest of us with them. That glitch in capitalism is fixable by adopting the right regulations so Big Business can’t risk the financial health of the whole nation.

Those big tax-funded bonuses for failed executives should light a fire under all of us taxpayers, whatever our politics. We need to demand that Congress reinstate the regulations that will keep this financial meltdown from happening again.

Notice: will tell jokes for food. Call the Squire.

Fixing the flu

Our H1N1 flu pandemic seems to have fizzled. At least, for the time being. But let’s not get too comfortable about it: keep washing your hands and don’t skip your flu shot this fall. Even though the “pandemic” seems below average, we should follow the Boy Scout motto and “Be Prepared.”

This is a Public Service announcement, brought to you FREE, no taxpayer money needed.

Fixing the urge

If you ever get the sudden urge to run around naked, you should sniff some Windex.

     It’ll keep you from streaking.

Free joke

A young woman brings her potential fiancé to meet the parents. After dinner, her mother tells her father to find out about the young man. The father invites him to the study for a drink.

“So what are your plans?” the father asks. “I am a Torah scholar,” says the young man. “A Torah scholar. Hmm,” says the father. “Admirable, but what will you do to provide a nice house for my daughter?” “I will study,” the young man replies, “and God will provide for us.” “And how will you buy her a beautiful engagement ring such as she deserves?” asks the father. “I will concentrate on my studies,” the young man replies, “and God will provide for us.”  “What about children?” asks the father. “How will you support children?” “Don’t worry, sir, God will provide.”

Later the mother asks, “How did it go, Honey?”

“Well,” says the father, “he has no job and no plans, but the good news is he thinks I’m God.”

What?

I called the “Incontinence Hot Line.”  They said, “Can you hold, please?”

Roger Allen, publisher

Don’t blame the pigs

Apparently it was the pork chop producers lobby that got the name “swine flu” changed to “H1N1 flu.”  I’m glad.  I had flu myself last winter and I never kissed a pig. Anyway, pigs never had this particular strain of influenza. These intelligent animals got the bad rap because it’s related to a disease they sometimes get. What an injustice – encouraged, no doubt, by the fact that pigs aren’t beautiful. Human beings are so shallow.

Looking east, I understand in Egypt they are killing all the pigs just to be on the safe side.  If we have to blame the disease on an innocent animal, let’s call it “mole flu.”  Nobody is fond of moles and they’re not part of a food industry. Maybe the Egyptians should kill all their moles. The pork lobby would appreciate having the world’s attention diverted from its product.

Looking south, I think we should just feel sorry for the Mexicans. Between swine flu-oops, H1N1-and the drug wars, they’re living dangerous lives. They have plenty of reasons for sneaking into the U.S.

TO:  GOD

FROM: DOG

Dear God:  Is it on purpose our names are the same, only reversed?

Dear God:  Why do humans smell the flowers, but seldom, if ever, smell one another?

Dear God:  When we get to heaven, can we sit on your couch? Or is it still the same old story?

Dear God:  If a Dog barks his head off in the forest and no human hears him, is he still a bad Dog?

Dear God: We Dogs can understand human verbal instructions, hand signals, whistles, horns, clickers, beepers, scent ID’s, electromagnetic energy fields, and Frisbee flight paths. What do humans understand?

Dear God:  More meatballs, less spaghetti, please.

Dear God:  Are there mailmen in Heaven? If there are, will I have to apologize?

Dear God:  Let me give you a list of just some of the things I must remember to be a good Dog:

 1. I will not eat the cats’ food before they eat it or after they throw it up. 

 2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell.

 3. The Litter Box is not a cookie jar.

 4. The sofa is not a “face towel.”

 5. The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.

 6. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad’s underwear when he’s on the toilet.

 7. Sticking my nose into someone’s crotch is an unacceptable way of saying hello.

 8. I don’t need to suddenly stand straight up when I’m under the coffee table.

 9. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house, not after.

10. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt.

11. I will not sit in the middle of the living room and lick my crotch.

12. The cat is not a squeaky toy, so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it’s usually not a good thing.

Roger Allen, publisher

What’s for Breakfast?

In the “old” days, breakfast was a lot of pork and bread and potatos and eggs.  Maybe even pie!  I was facinated by the long shelves of cereal at the store.  Our local D&W has about 100′ of shelving, six shelves high, devoted to cold cereal.  That’s 600 feet!  The internet lists page after page of different cereals.

The original breakfast cereal was a “granola” designed to promote digestion. It was terrible! Corn Flakes was an accident. Some cereal paste was accidentally left overnight. When cooked in the morning…voila! Corn Flakes.

The original Kellogg was a doctor with a sanitarium in Battle Creek. He wanted a breakfast food that provided more fiber. He wanted nothing to do with the food business; he thought it would compromise his professional status. His brother, W.K. Kellogg took over the cereal business and went to town!  The current amazing variety of cereals is the result.

We don’t want to overlook Charles William Post.  He became a patient at the Kellogg sanitorium.  He didn’t do well at the hospital, but he got interested in the new food fashion.  He started his own cereal business in Battle Creek and invented Grape Nuts.  They were like the oringinal granola but edible!  He became successful with Post Toasties and went on from there.

Next week, Lunch?

A Southern Baptist minister was completing a temperance sermon.   With great emphasis he said,  “If I  had all the beer in the world,    I’d take it and pour it into the river.”  With even greater emphasis he said,   “And if I had all the wine in the world,    I’d take it and pour it into the river.” And then finally, shaking his fist in the air, he said,   “And if I had all the whiskey in the world,   I’d take it and pour it into the river.”  Sermon complete, he sat down.

The song leader stood very cautiously and announced with a smile, nearly laughing,   “For our closing song, let us sing Hymn #365,   “Shall We Gather at the River.”

Gas or electric?

After booking my 80-year-old grandmother on a flight from Florida to Nevada, I called the airline to go over her special needs.  The representative listened patiently as I requested a wheelchair and an attendant for my mother because of her arthritis and impaired vision to the point of near blindness.  My apprehension lightened a bit when the woman assured me that everything would be taken care of.  I thanked her profusely. “Oh, you’re welcome,” she replied.  I was about to hang up when she cheerfully asked, …”And will your grandmother need a rental car?”

Roger Allen, publisher

Constantly confusing

We’ve just enjoyed another Easter event with church services, goody baskets, and Easter egg hunts. We’re also enjoying some pretty nice weather compared with the last couple of months. Originally, Easter was a celebration of spring, although in these parts spring weather sometimes lags behind.

At least we know the official date of spring’s arrival: the Earth moves, the seasons change. The date of Easter is elusive. If you can’t keep track, blame your confusion on Emperor Constantine. It was he who decreed that “Easter shall be celebrated on the first Sunday that occurs after the first full moon on or after the vernal equinox.”

Watch out, though. The “full moon” in the rule is the ecclesiastical full moon, which is defined as the fourteenth day of a tabular lunation, where day one corresponds to the ecclesiastical New Moon. It doesn’t always occur on the same date as the astronomical full moon.

The ecclesiastical “vernal equinox” is always on March 21. Therefore, Easter must be celebrated on a Sunday between the dates of March 22 and April 25.

Now you know everything about the date Easter falls on. You probably won’t even have to consult a calendar in the future. However, if you have any continuing confusion about when it will be Easter, watch for a pink bunny carrying eggs.

Mysteriously transmitted

Two guys are out hunting in the woods, and as they’re walking along they come upon a huge hole in the ground. They approach it and are amazed by its size.

The first hunter says, “Wow, that’s some hole. I can’t even see the bottom. I wonder how deep it is.”

The second hunter says, “I don’t know. Let’s throw something down there and listen to see how long it takes to hit bottom.”

The first hunter says, “I see an old transmission over here. Give me a hand and we’ll throw it in.”

So they pick up the transmission, carry it over, count one and two and three, and throw it in the hole. They’re standing there listening and looking over the edge when they hear a rustling in the brush behind them. As they turn around, they see a goat come crashing through the brush, run up to the hole, and with no hesitation jump in headfirst.

While they’re standing there looking at each other and into the hole, trying to figure out what that was all about, an old farmer walks up. “Say there,” says the farmer, “you fellers didn’t happen to see my goat around here anyplace, did you?”

The first hunter says, “Funny you should ask. We were just standing here a minute ago when a goat came running out of the bushes doin’ about a hunnert miles an hour and jumped headfirst into this hole here!”

     “Why, that’s impossible,” says the old farmer. “I had him chained to a transmission.”

Roger Allen, publisher

“Where’s my paper?”

Turbines installed at the tannery.

In an effort to support President Obama’s efforts to move the country to alternative energy sources, the City of Rockford has switched to windpower.

“It only makes sense to harness the Earth’s natural flatulence,” said Izzy Toe, who is on the City’s committee to implement alternative energy, the Joint Open Konsumer Energy (JOKE) committee.

Luckily, Rockford is known far and wide for the strength of the local winds, and is often referred to by the common nickname of “The Windy City.”

Paper carrier cars going to wind power.

The City made the leap away from electricity on Wednesday, April 1 in a ceremony where turbines installed at a tannery rooftop officially began powering the town.

“I would have had to wipe tears of happiness from my eyes if the wind hadn’t blown them dry,” said the City President. “This is a life-long dream come true for me. I’ve always hated the electric company.”

The City partnered in this venture with the local funny paper, the Rockford Square, which also made the switch on April 1.

“We built our office wind turbine ourselves,” the newspaper spokesperson said. “We have a talented group here and are very handy.”

Rockford Squire switched to turbines.

The wind turbine is very common for residential use and can significantly decrease the global footprint of a family home. It was installed on the north side of the Squire building at 331 Northland Drive, just two doors down from the Michigan State Police Post.

The Square staff would love to share our blueprint for the turbine with any readers who are interested and are currently offering tours. Within minutes of installation, the turbine began powering all Square electrical equipment.

Square paper carriers are also going to windpower with their moms’ and dads’ cars. At right see the money-saving and popular auto wind turbine.

“We are so, so grateful to the City for going along with us on this exciting venture,” a Square staffer said. “Wait until we tell them about our next great idea. It involves a large herd of pigs (which are surprisingly speedy animals) and a few hundred yards of velcro.  We’ll have them using zero gas for their City cars lickity split.”

Roger Allen, publisher

Power!

Hooked on oil? Want alternative energy? We’re all overlooking something that’s right in our back yards. The neighborhoods are full of squirrels looking for food and even risking their lives darting across streets. We should harness this power source.

Here’s my plan: We buy a bunch of live traps and catch those little devils. Then we put each squirrel into a cage with an exercise wheel. Like hamsters, they’ll run on those wheels all day. We’ll also need electric generators, very small ones, to attach to the wheels. Our neighborhood squirrels will spend all day generating power for our houses.

We should arrange an automatic system that drops a peanut into the cage with, say, every 300 revolutions of the wheel so the squirrels are encouraged to keep running. We wouldn’t have to feed them otherwise, just keep the hopper filled. Peanuts are cheap. The shells can be used as mulch for growing our own vegetables.

Sadly, we know nothing lasts forever, even hard-working squirrels. After their efforts to power our microwaves, fax machines and other electronics, some will eventually pass on. The remedy for their earthly remains is also simple. The bodies can go in our backyard composting bins where they will continue with their usefulness.

I see no drawbacks to this plan. I’m online right now, looking up the number of the Patent Office.

Trouble on the job

…Your accountant’s letter of resignation is post-
marked Zurich.

…Your suggestion box starts ticking.

…Your secretary tells you the FBI is on line 1, the DA on line 2, and CBS on line 3.

…You make more than you ever made, owe more than you ever owed, and have less than you’ve ever had.

Trouble at home

…People send your wife sympathy cards on your
anniversary.

…You spot your wife and your girlfriend having lunch together.

…The plumber floats by on your kitchen table.

Classifieds from elsewhere

FREE YORKSHIRE TERRIER.

8 years old. Hateful little dog. Bites!

FREE PUPPIES.

Mother, AKC German Shepherd. Father, Super Dog. Able
to leap tall fences in a single bound.

GEORGIA PEACHES

California grown – 89 cents/lb.

JOINING NUDIST COLONY!

Must sell washer and dryer, $300.

WEDDING DRESS FOR SALE

Worn once by mistake. Call Stephanie.

FOR SALE BY OWNER:

Complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica, 45 volumes. Excellent condition. $1,000 or best offer. No longer needed. Got married last month. Wife knows everything.

Work habits

A small manufacturer of office equipment hires an older man who says he’s retired from the Navy. Jim turns out to be a good worker, pleasant and efficient, and he works for a modest salary. However, he’s always 10 or 15 minutes late in the morning. The boss prides himself on arriving early. It begins to grate on him that Jim is always late.

Finally he calls Jim into the office. “Jim, you’re a good worker and I’m glad you’re with us, but it bothers me that you are always late to work. When you were in the Navy, what did the guys say when you came in late?”

Jim replies, “They said ‘Good Morning, Admiral.’”

Roger Allen, publisher

We’re all a bit nervous about the billions of federal dollars being shelled out to the investment and credit industries and the trillions of national debt that will follow. Well, I have a solution to America’s problem of raising money: sin.

This idea isn’t new with me. “Sin tax” is the fun name for the extra taxes we pay on liquor and tobacco. Liquor and tobacco consumption doesn’t seem to be affected by taxes. I say, crank up those taxes and look for additional popular sins. Here’s one:

Native Americans have managed to find a way to get back at the immigrants who stole their country from them: gambling casinos. They are popping up all over the country and paying off like crazy. (Build them and they will come.) I’ll give you three-to-one odds that casino clients would hardly notice bigger taxes on gambling.

The state of Michigan also does well with its various lotteries. People enjoy gambling so much that I’m proposing a new “Deficit Lottery.” Ticket holders may win big bucks, but half the money would go to reduce the federal deficit. How about that combination: feeling patriotic while feeding your urge to gamble. Let’s get started! April 1 might be an appropriate day to kick off the big push for more sin.

Help at hand

When you go to casinos, the most ridiculous sign you see is the one that says: “If you have a gambling problem, call 1-800-GAMBLER.”

A friend of mine noticed the sign and thought about it for a moment. Then he dialed the number. When they answered he said, “I have an ace and a six. The dealer has a seven. What do I do?”

Daddy’s girl

Another tale from a friend:

One day my mother was out and my dad was in charge of me.

I was maybe a little over 2. Someone had given me a little tea set and it was one of my favorite toys.

Daddy was in the living room engrossed in a ball game on TV when I brought him a little cup of tea, which was just water. After several more cups and lots of praise from Daddy for such yummy tea, my mom came home.

Daddy made her wait in the living room to watch me bring him a cup of tea because it was “just the cutest thing.” Mom waited, and sure enough, here I come down the hall with a cup of tea for Daddy, and she watches him drink it up.

Then she says, “Did it ever occur to you that the only place she can reach to get water is the toilet?”

Politics as usual

Winston Churchill said Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried. Someone else described Democracy as two wolves and a rabbit voting on what to have for dinner.

Well, the wolves (aka Congress) just passed an omnibus budget bill to keep our government going for a while-an annual necessity. Congress (as usual) attached projects to the bill that are earmarked for specific uses. This time around, these projects number around 8,000. Some (as usual) may benefit their sponsoring Congressmen more than the country.

The earmarks amount to only about one percent of the budget, but that’s still a lot of money.

Hey! It’s our system! Congress has the authority to spend our tax money, and they often vote themselves some nice perks that they don’t advertise.

It’s unfortunate that most Congressmen don’t read the laws they vote for.  They rely on their political party to tell them how to vote. Good thing we have a two-party system. Each can keep an eye on the other.

We really can’t expect to have it otherwise. The national budget is so long and complex that no one person could be expected to read and understand the legal language in thousands of pages. A large number of Congressmen are lawyers, but even they have only 24 hours in a day.

A lawyer died and arrived at the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter asked him the usual question, “What have you done to merit entrance into Heaven?”

The lawyer thought a moment, then said, “A week ago I gave a quarter to a homeless person on the street.”

Saint Peter asked Gabriel to check this out in the records and after a moment Gabriel affirmed that it was indeed true.

“Well,” said Saint Peter, “that’s fine, but it’s not really quite enough to get you into Heaven.”

“Wait, wait!” said the lawyer. “There’s more! Three years ago, I gave another homeless person a quarter.”

Saint Peter nodded to Gabriel, who, after a moment, nodded back that it was true. Saint Peter whispered to Gabriel, “Well, what do you suggest we do with this fellow?”

Gabriel gave the lawyer a sidelong glance, then said to Saint Peter, “Let’s give him back his 50 cents and tell him to go to Hell!”

ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?

WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?

WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.

ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have been alive, nevertheless?

WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.