* After my release from the U.S. Navy, I answered an ad for a forklift operator at a bottling company. I was taken on a tour of the plant by the warehouse foreman, who stressed how important it was not to break any bottles. “In the Navy,” I explained, “I wasn’t allowed any mistakes with the forklift.” “What did you handle?” He asked. “Bombs,” I replied. “Son,” he said, “you’re hired.”
@ When a tornado hit our shopping mall, my friend Greg and I were worried about his parents, who owned a store in the complex. We hopped into my banged up, rusty Pinto and made our way out there. It looked like a war zone. Cars were torn apart and the news crews and the firemen were running all over. After checking on Greg’s parents we left the chaotic scene. That night on a TV newscast about the tornado, the announcer said, and here’s a sample of some of the damage done to the vehicles in the parking lot. The camera moved in for a close-up of my Pinto.
@ I was visiting a friend of mine in Los Angeles when we were awakened around 6 AM by telephone call from her sister-in-law who lives on the East Coast. She was quite worried because she said, “Are you okay? I just heard on the radio that you had an earthquake about eight o’clock this morning,” “No, we didn’t feel it,” my friend replied, “everything is fine here.” There was a short pause and then her sister-in-law said, “Oh, I forgot, we are three hours ahead of you.”