ORIGINALLY WRITTEN JOEL KLAASSEN
Everyone has probably had a “moving experience” at one time or another in their lives. I will tell you about mine.
In 1970, we were living in Cambridge, Md., where I was working for Jostens American Yearbook Co. We had seen enough of the East Coast and decided to move back to Kansas to be closer to family.
With no job, no place to live, a pregnant wife and a yapping dog, we set sail in our ’67 Chevelle and a 12-foot trailer hooked on the back with all of our worldly possessions in it.
Loading that trailer before we left was an experience by itself. The first time I loaded it, I put too much weight on the hitch. The car had no springs, and the whole thing was setting on the ground. So I reloaded it to shift weight to the back and thought it would be good to take a little test drive before hitting the highway for real.
Little did I know that I didn’t have enough weight on the hitch. When I approached about 50 mph, the trailer suddenly began swaying and violently shaking the car back and forth all over the road. All I could do was hang on and wait for the whole mess to slow down enough to regain control. It seemed as though it would never stop.
When I regained my composure, it was back to town to reload for the third time.
Finally, it was road worthy and we headed west. The first night we stopped in Wheeling, W. Va. The motel was up on a cliff. When we left in the morning, I thought I would just drive around the back of the motel and go. Well, the parking lot ended and I was facing a cliff headed in the wrong direction. It was early and a lot of cars were still parked in the lot. Turning that thing around took a lot of maneuvering, if you can picture it.
Every time we stopped for gas, the bumper of the car would have moved. Sometimes it was pulled four inches back of where it should be. The next it would be jammed up against the car’s body.
An elderly guy, who was pumping gas next to us somewhere in Ohio, took one look at our setup and said to me, “If you were my son, I’d tell you to park that rig and find some other way.”
Obviously, we made it. But the one thing I always noticed was that the clutch on the car smelled kind of hot.
Why does the biggest, juiciest bug always splat on the windshield right where I’m looking?
Sometime when you have nothing to do, try measuring the circumference of your neck and your calf. (The calf on your leg). I’ll bet they are almost exactly the same.
A wife said to her husband one weekend morning: “We have such a clever dog. He brings in the daily newspapers every morning.”
Her husband replied, “Well, a lot of dogs can do that.”
The wife responded, “But we’ve never subscribed to any papers!”
Frog: “Waiter, there’s no fly in my soup.”