New Tricks

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks," Grandpa Gus said, staring at the keyboard of the new computer my mom had given him and Grandma for Christmas.

"You're not an old dog, Grandpa," I said. "And this isn't a trick. Besides, computers are simple once you know what you're doing."

"Simple?" Grandpa Gus said. "That must be why they give you an instruction manual the size of the phone book!"

"You don't have to know all that stuff to run a computer," I said. "Most of it is just for reference. So if you don't know how to do something, you can look it up."

"Well, I took a look at your manual and it might as well be written in Greek!" Grandpa Gus huffed.

"Then it should be easy for you, Grandpa," I said. "Since you can read Greek, and write it too! Your dad came from Athens. Remember?"

Grandpa Gus folded his arms in front of him. "And I should have stayed there and become a simple shepherd just like him, planted olive trees, and sat in the Mediterranean sun."

"Grandpa!" I laughed. "Your father was a train engineer, not a shepherd. And you were born right here in Ohio!"

Grandma stuck her head in from the kitchen where she was making lunch. "He's allergic to wool too. Some shepherd he'd make."

Grandpa Gus made a face, but Grandma ignored him. "And the only thing he ever planted was himself in front of the TV."

Grandpa Gus laughed. "So I don't have a green thumb. Is that a sin?"

"No," Grandma said, giving him a stern look. "Complaining to your granddaughter when she's only trying to help, is."

"Okay, okay," Grandpa Gus relented. He pointed to the computer's darkened monitor. "So how do you know so much about this stuff, smarty pants?"

I laughed. "We learned all about computers in school, Grandpa Gus," I said. "We even have a couple of computers in our classroom."

"So maybe I should go back to the fifth grade," he said, "instead of sitting here."

"Maybe you should just listen to your granddaughter," Grandma called from the kitchen.

"It's not hard, Grandpa," I said.

"It's not hard," Grandpa Gus said. "My thick old head is!"

"No, it's not!" I said. "You're the smartest man I know."

"Maybe you just don't know enough people."

"No!" I said. "Who taught me how to ride a bike? Hmm? Who taught me how to fish, how to build a treehouse, and how to dance The Twist?"

Grandpa Gus smiled. "Some guy with two left feet."

"And who taught me how to fly a kite?"

"Kites are different," Grandpa Gus said. "You don't have to re-boot a kite."

"No," I said. "You don't. But you taught me all those things, Grandpa Gus. And every one of them was hard when I first started."

"They weren't hard," Grandpa Gus said. "They were just new."

"That's right," I said. "They were just like new, like your computer."

Grandpa Gus looked at the blank computer screen for a moment, then lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. You win."

I switched on the computer. "When the screen was lit," I said, "Just click on START"

Grandpa Gus smiled again. "Maybe after this, smarty pants, you could teach your grandmother how to program the VCR!"

By J. T. Waite

Norwegians from Minnesota

Two Norwegian hunters from Minnesota got a pilot to fly them to Canada to hunt moose. They bagged six. As they started loading the plane for the return trip, the pilot said the plane could take only four moose. The two lads objected strongly.

"Last year we shot six and the pilot let us put them all on board and he had the same plane as yours!"

Reluctantly, the pilot gave in and all six were loaded. However, even on full power, the little plane couldn't handle the load and went down a few moments after takeoff.

Climbing out of the wreck one Norski asked the other, "Any idea where we are?" "Yaaah, I tink we's pretty close to where we crashed last year."