Drive-through Banking

Over the years in the town where I have my office, a few banks have closed up branches or moved to new locations, but the buildings remain. In general they become branches of other banks, but occasionally not. One such building remained vacant for over a year, and has just re-opened - as a urology clinic.

I used to visit this particular branch to do my own banking, and can attest to the fact that the building contains several drive-through lanes with (a) a fully operational pneumatic system to send those little cylinders back and forth to the cars, and (b) an ATM in the wall of lane #1.

I'm curious to know how they are making use of these built-in features for the urology clinic. The possibilities are endless...

Black Bear

My local newspaper reported that a 200 pound black bear was struck and killed by a Toyota on Interstate 287. It makes me wonder: Why was the color and weight of the bear important, but neither the color nor weight of the driver (or the car, for that matter). Perhaps the news item should have been, "A 200 pound black bear was struck and killed by a 116 pound caucasian woman driving a 2421 pound silver Toyota Corolla."

Note: The woman driving the car survived - the Toyota was a total loss.

Postcard - Tights

The inaugural Postcard, which originally appeared December 21, 2004

The setting: Family is preparing to go to worship services. Four daughters (ages 8, 8, 8 and 5) are scrambling to get ready on time. Mother calls out "5 minutes!!!" from downstairs.

Daughter #3 (panicked): Daddy, my tights don't feel right. Can you help me find the right size?

Father: I don't know anything about tights. They all look the same crumpled up in your drawer.

D3: But you know all about sizes and stuff.

Father (trying to be helpful): What size are you?

D3: Daaaadddddyyyy!

Father: Look, I really don't know anything about girls stockings. I don't wear them - (then adding, in a flash of brilliance) - just like you don't know anything about underwear with a fly in the front.

Daughter #2 (arriving on the scene): A what?

Father (oblivious to warning signs): A fly in the front.

D2 & D3 (unison): We don't get it.

Father: You know how your underwear is flat across, but your jeans have a zipper? Well, boys... (suddenly senses the magnitude of the tactical blunder) Oh, never mind. (hastily retreats to master bedroom and closes door)

D3 (through the door): Oh, now I get it!

Father (also through the door): I'm sure I don't want to know! Go downstairs and tell your mother you need help.