It was quite the haul.
I found the first mushroom and
my son the other.
Bruce Stambaugh
April 29, 2011
Tag: humor
Looking for answers to some of life’s perplexing questions
By Bruce Stambaugh
From little on up, I have always been an inquisitive person.
One of the neighbor ladies from my suburban rustbelt neighborhood where I grew up must have noticed it. She called me “The Beacon Journal,” in honor of her favorite daily newspaper I presumed.
Seems I was always asking questions. If something happened in the neighborhood, I had to know all the assorted details, whether they were any of my business or not. They usually weren’t.
That inquisitiveness probably had a lot to do with my decision to major in journalism in college. Enjoying writing helped, too.
I still have the same inquiring mind today. The need to know is paramount from my perspective.
No matter what I’m doing, I seem to always be thinking of questions. Oftentimes they are totally unrelated to what I’m doing, which should come as no surprise either.
That mental process happens a lot when I’m on long trips, whether flying or driving. A big rig passes me and I wonder what the trucker is hauling. I see a jet cruise overhead and I wonder what were its points of departure and destination.
I ponder both the ludicrous and the serious stuff of life. In fact, I think about questions so much I started a list. I figured if I shared them with you I just might get some answers.
In no particular order, here are some of the significant questions conjured by my motivated mind.
• Once you pull those folded up canvas chairs out of their covers, does anyone ever put the chairs back in the covers again?
• How is it that you can put four pairs of socks in the laundry and when you retrieve the wash from the dryer you have nine socks and only six match?
• How far back should you stay from a car with the vanity plates H1N1?
• How many chocolate covered raisin clusters equal a serving of fruit?
• Why does it feel colder when it is raining and 36 degrees than it does when it is snowing and 26 degrees?
• Why do referees at high school basketball games wear jackets during the pregame warm-up when the gym is already stifling?
• Why don’t men know how to replace an empty toilet paper holder?
• Why is it that when you are driving with the windshield wipers going and they streak, the streak is always at eye level?
• Why do most people use the top plug in an electrical receptacle first, which blocks the use of the bottom plug?
• Do fish sleep?
• Why is the Big Ten Conference called that when it has 11 schools in its league?
• How can there be such a thing as “live video?”
• Even when they can see the road is inundated, why do drivers daringly head right into flooded roadways, often to be stranded and eventually rescued?
• Why did the Cleveland Indians trade Rocky Colavito for Harvey Kuenn?
• Why do rocks that are naturally imbedded in soil find their way to the surface while rocks that you set in flowerbeds gradually sink?
I suppose I could have Googled for the answers to these pressing questions. But I’d rather hear from you. I look forward to seeing your answers, I think.
Wayne on Wayne
My wife and I
stayed in a bed and breakfast
in Waynesboro on Wayne St.,
and the owner’s name was Wayne.
I couldn’t, no I wouldn’t make this up.
Bruce Stambaugh
March 29, 2011
Sick haiku
It’s a lousy time
of year to have pneumonia.
But is there a good?
Bruce Stambaugh
Jan. 29, 2011
Another crazy year comes to an end
By Bruce Stambaugh
No matter what society you live in, news is an important element of belonging. As social beings, we have an innate need to know. That drive manifests itself differently in different people.
I enjoy the human interest stories that tend to consistently run beneath the mainstream media’s radar. Here is a sampling of some of those lesser known but equally important stories of 2010 that I came across.
Jan. 22 – A half-pound meteorite crashed through the roof of a doctor’s office in Lorton, Va., landing just 10 feet from the doctor, who was working on patients’ charts.
Feb. 9 – The Mortgage Bankers Association sold its building for half the amount it had paid for it, and decided to rent.
Feb. 14 – A pothole delayed the Daytona 500 race for two and a half hours.
March 31 – Minnesota Twins leadoff hitter Denard Span fouled a hard line drive into the stands in a spring training baseball game, hitting a spectator, his mother.
April 5 – Twin boxers Travis and Tarvis Simms were arrested for getting into a fight with each other in Norwalk, Conn.
May 10 – A farm in Oklahoma, where scenes from the movie Twister were filmed, was hit by a real tornado.
May 17 – It took Jack Harris of Shepton Mallet, England, nearly eight years to complete his 5,000-piece jigsaw puzzle, only to discover one piece was missing.
June 9 – Researchers revealed the discovery of the world’s oldest known shoe, a 5,500-year-old single piece of leather laced up the front and stuffed with grass, which was found in a cave in Croatia.
July 13 – Keith McVey, a mail carrier in Akron, saved a man’s life by performing CPR. Two years earlier McVey saved a teenage girl from drowning, also while delivering his mail. He had saved yet another man’s life 20 years ago.
August 10 – A report on the state of health of Americans revealed that, on average, waistlines have increased an inch per decade since the 1960s.
August 11 – A contractor marking a school zone in Guilford County, N.C., committed the ultimate typo by painting “shcool” across the road.
Sept. 14 – When 5-year-old Andrew Polasky won a moose-calling contest held at the Alaska Zoo in Anchorage, his mother said she wasn’t surprised because her son “is good at making a lot of noise.”
Sept. 26 – James Heseldon, 62, owner of the company that makes the Segway, died when he accidentally drove one of the two-wheeled scooters off a cliff near his estate in West Yorkshire, England.
Oct. 6 – National Geographic research linguists in northeastern India found a new language, Koro, still spoken by only about 1,000 people.
Oct. 24 – Jonathan Byrd won the PGA Shriners Open in Las Vegas, Nev. with a hole-in-one on the fourth hole of a three-way playoff.
Nov. 4 – A retired Canadian couple revealed that they had given away to family and selected charities all but two percent of the $11.3 million they had won in a lottery in July.
Nov. 12 – A study showed that people who take notes, scribble, or even doodle while listening have better memories than those who don’t.
Dec. 11 – A report by http://www.Forbes.com listed Ohio third in the nation for people moving out of the state. New York was number one.
I wonder what interesting stories 2011 will bring?
Kermit Miller wears many hats
By Bruce Stambaugh
Kermit Miller sells several different styles of hats in the general store he and his wife, Pam, own in Walnut Creek, Ohio. Civic minded as he is, Miller wears various hats for the community, too.
Born in Millersburg, Miller, 59, returned to his native Walnut Creek after graduating with a degree in business from Heidelberg College in Tiffin. Naturally, he also returned to work at Schlabach’s Store where he was named manager in 1973.
Miller said he had worked for Schlabach’s since he was in the fourth grade.
“I was in charge of parking lot maintenance,” he said in his wry humor. In other words, he cleaned up after the horses.
“I still have to do that,” Miller said. Of course, that is because he and Pam are the only employees and somebody has to do that job.
That may be Miller’s philosophy when he takes off his business owner hat and puts on his water board hat. He keeps that cap close by since people call him at the store with concern and pay their water bills there.
Miller is the president of the Walnut Creek Water Company, a non-profit organization that supplies water to nearly 300 customers in the Walnut Creek area. Miller has served on the board since 1979. In that time he has seen much change with water delivery, including monitoring the water levels.
“It used to be that we knew we had a problem when the tower ran out of water,” Miller said. “Now we monitor the water level electronically.”
The addition of the water treatment plant, thanks to a USDA loan in 2007, was a big help, too, according to Miller. Of course, he put on his research hat to help provide answers to some of the many background questions required to get the loan.
“That took a lot of time,” Miller said. “Of course, I wasn’t the only one who helped with that.”
Cash flow is important to Miller in other ways. That’s another hat Miller dons. He is treasurer of the German Culture Museum, which just relocated from an old wood-framed home into its new headquarters on Olde Pump Street in Walnut Creek.
Miller said the dedication was held on August 14 to coincide with the opening of the original museum, which was August 14, 1982.
“Instead of lots of small rooms,” Miller said, “we now have a 60 by 90 foot open space to properly display historic items from the area.”
The late Ruth Schlabach, the previous owner of Schlabach’s Store, donated the land with the community in mind for the new building, which also houses a community room, township office, and branch library.
“The community provided the donations to pay off the cost for the building in three years,” Miller said. “We are grateful that the library board recently decided to reopen the east branch here.”
Miller wore his appreciation hat when he nominated local resident and museum board president, Larry Miller, for the Ohio Individual Achievement Award given by the Ohio Local History Alliance. Larry Miller portrayed “Der Weiss” Stutzman at the grand opening of the museum. Kermit Miller did the same years earlier for Roscoe Miller and Ruth Schlabach.
Another hat Kermit Miller wears is his church cap. Miller served on the consistory of St. John’s United Church of Christ for 20 years.
Miller puts on his parent hat when he and Pam visit their three daughters. Karrie Wood lives in Melbourne, Australia. Krystal Hoffman resides in Buffalo, New York, and Korrine Morrow lives in North Lewisburg, Ohio.
Miller said it is easier to visit them now since the decision was made to close the grocery store section a few years ago. Schlabach’s store sells everything from trinkets to toys.
“We knew we could find it here,” is frequently heard in the store, according to Miller. He chuckles in satisfaction that people can find what they want locally when they have searched high and low elsewhere.
There is yet one more hat that Miller is probably known best for. Tucked in the southwest corner of the 6,000 square foot retail store is a very busy camera section. It is what drives the store’s business, according to Miller.
“People come here for the service as well as good deals,” he said. “I know we can’t compete in price with the big boys, but we can more than make up for that in customer service.”
From the steady stream of customers with photo questions and purchases, Miller’s camera hat gets worn a lot.
My mother said there would be days like this
By Bruce Stambaugh
My mother said there would be days like this. And that was when we used carbon paper in typewriters.
Technology has come a long way since then. It is a wonderful thing as long as it works. If it doesn’t, I don’t mess with it.
Friends and family know that I could never pass for a techie. But believe me, unless you just want your flashlight batteries changed, I’m not the person to call.
My son knows this. My son-in-law knows this. My friends know this, especially the ones with technological smarts. I’ve called them all enough, sometimes with the lamest problems that seem totally unsolvable to me.
They come over, hit one or two keys or make some slight adjustments, and bingo, I’m back in business. I thank them profusely, try to pay them, usually without success. They go on their way, likely hoping I won’t call again. But they know I will.
I guess that’s really my point. I have to call my friends and family because online computer and equipment companies usually don’t list their phone numbers. Retailers do. Utility companies do. But if you enter the inner sanctum of a technology company’s website, just try and find a phone number.
Sure they’ll be glad to take your call to sell you something. I think that’s how I got in this particular fix to start with. I must have ordered the wrong item.
On the advice of my son-in-law, who has marvelous technology skills, more than a year ago I purchased an external hard drive for my laptop computer. It looked just like what I was instructed to order.
I hooked the sucker up. It beeped, lit up, whined, whirled and hummed. Finally, I had achieved success by actually connecting one electronic gizmo to another. The box said it would store up to 320,000 pictures. That number is probably close to what I have taken since I started using a Brownie camera as a kid when my mother warned me there would be days like this.
For the record, I have, or maybe had, about 5,000 digital shots on my desktop computer. I said “had” because the thing crashed, and I have yet to hear the magic words from the repair shop to “come pick up your restored computer.”
Oh, well. At least the 6,000 pictures on my laptop are backed up on the external hard drive. Or I thought they were.
Feeling a little leery with the desktop down, I decided to open the external hard drive and actually verify that all those shots I have taken were saved in the external drive.
Unfortunately, they weren’t. At least I don’t think they were. All I could find when I clicked on the icon were folders with acronyms I had never seen before.
That’s what got me investigating. I went on the manufacturer’s website, and once I finally clicked on the right highlighted phrase, I discovered that I most likely had the wrong piece of equipment.
It only took me more than a year to realize the obvious. The nice lady who answered at the other end of the retailer’s toll free phone number was sympathetic, but said I should have called sooner. No doubt.
I’m still trying to crack the manufacturer’s website code. They have lots of answers on their FAQs pages. Problem is they don’t have the answer to my particular question. Will their product work on my computer?
My mother never had that problem with her manual typewriter.
Giving praise where praise is due
By Bruce Stambaugh
It had been a difficult day.
As the silvery sunset melted into the horizon, I reflected on the last few days and the people and events that had occurred. In reviewing the various situations, it hit me that like it or not I was entering the October of my own life, and that got my attention.
Days earlier I had met my friend Steve in a Mexican restaurant in the city where I was born and raised. Steve is a long-time buddy connected to my school principal days. Steve and I have a lot in common. First and foremost is that we both like to talk, at least according to our spouses.
If for no other reason than that alone, Steve and I have agreed to meet periodically without the wives. We get more talking done that way.
Steve is the kind of friend every guy should have. He doesn’t let you get away with anything. He is a self-appointed critic of my writing, and is unabashed about finding any mistakes that somehow make it through to publication. Well, at least he thinks they are mistakes, but he usually is mistaken.
That’s the kind of friends we are. He has the same theology about technology that I do. He loves to frequent the western United States and does so annually, months at a time, mostly hunting for arrowheads. Archeology and travel are other mutual interests.
Another thing we have in common is baseball. He hates it. I love it. Also, we enjoy discussing politics, until the conversation gets too political, then we switch to a more congenial topic, like baseball.
We talk about our late fathers and how our mothers are doing. And of course, we extol our wives, and try not to roll our eyes too much. Did I mention we laugh a lot?
A few days later, I took my mother on a short drive around the colorful countryside near the retirement home where she lives in Walnut Creek, Ohio. Mom always enjoys getting out when one of us “kids” can take her.
This day was exceptional. The sky was pure blue, allowing the sun to heighten the already vivid colors. Since Mom was an avid and prolific watercolor painter, I always hope these short rides spark a memory of those days gone by when she and her friends would find a spot to paint, set up their easels and spend the day communing with nature and one another, beautifully interpreting what they saw.
Besides the warm hues of the leaves, a stunning red-tailed hawk flew right across our path. Around the curve, Mom spied some flashy marigolds. All in all, it was an invigorating jaunt. Seeing that Mom enjoyed the little excursion, I chose to tell her a comment that Steve had shared with me at the Mexican restaurant.
Knowing my mother was an accomplished landscape artist, Steve said, “You have your mother’s eye.” I non-verbally asked for clarification. “Instead of a brush, you paint with words and through the lens of your camera.” I don’t know if Steve noticed or not, but tears welled in my eyes. I was honored with the keen compliment. When I shared the kind words with Mom, tears welled up in her eyes, too. Despite her advanced dementia, knowing that Mom had understood at least a little of the depth and breadth of Steve’s insight made the compliment all the more meaningful.
The circle of blessing was now complete. It had returned to its rightful owner, the creative and artful woman who had taught me to see and share Creation’s beauty.
Suddenly, this difficult October day didn’t seem so difficult after all.
Charm’s unofficial mayor gets things done
By Bruce Stambaugh
If the little unincorporated Holmes County village of Charm, Ohio had a mayor, Ed Raber, 61, would be it.
“I get called the mayor all the time,” he said with a quiet, unassuming appreciation. Raber humbly accepts the importance he plays in the life and times of this amiable, mostly Amish populated town.
In fact, Raber’s reputation as a servant leader spans well beyond the local community. He was recently introduced as Charm’s mayor at a fundraising outing sponsored by the Ohio Forestry Association’s East Central Logger’s Chapter. The group donated half of the proceeds to the Charm Share and Care Fund, which Raber heads.
That fund financially helps local families and individuals in need, according to Raber. All proceeds from Charm Days, which are this Friday and Saturday, go into the fund.
The Charm Days event is indicative of how Raber takes the lead in getting things done for his charming hometown of Charm, population 80. By week’s end, the friendly Doughty Valley hamlet will host 6,000 revelers who will enjoy a variety of folksy activities.
They can thank Raber as much as anybody else for their good time, though he would deflect any accolades. Raber is as modest as he is congenial.
Raber and Ivan J. Miller of Keim Lumber are the main duo that makes Charm Days go. But Raber is quick to point out that it takes the entire community to actually pull off the two-day event.
“We contact the Amish bishops to make sure the bake sales are successful,” Raber said. “Everybody works together to make Charm Days happen.”
“If you have the community backing, you can make things happen,” Raber said. In his unofficial position, Raber has done just that.
Besides Charm Days, Raber has immersed himself into nearly every aspect of what makes Charm tick. He heads the Charm Share and Care fund. He is a board member of the Holmes County Chapter of the American Red Cross, and is a board member of Common Grounds Ministries, the group that supports John Schmid’s ministries.
Raber is a board member of the Charm Development Corporation, a group that organized to get natural gas into the village. When the gas company’s fees were astronomical, he helped form the group. The organization leased 40 acres and drilled its own gas well.
Raber is also president of the Charm Center Corporation, which provides rentals for the local Amish population.
“We have 300 freezers scattered around the countryside, including 80 in one building in Charm,” Raber said. “It’s another way we can help the Amish.”
For his day job, Raber is manager of Raber Lumber on the south edge of Charm. His father, Noah, started the business 66 years ago, and Ed bought into the company in 1970. His brother, Ervin, joined the partnership 20 years ago, and they sold it to a cousin in 2006.
Raber grew up Amish. He and his wife, Lorene, attend Grace Mennonite Church. The Raber’s have been married for 40 years. In fact, Raber credited his wife for much of his success.
“I have a good wife, a good partner,” he said. “She helps me out in a lot of the things we are involved in.”
After the Charm General Store burned in 1978, the Raber’s bought the property and reopened the store in February of the next year. They sold the store in 1996.
As manger of Raber Lumber, Ed does a lot of office work. But he limits his use of technology to a phone, cell phone, calculator and company radio. He does do deliveries of lumber and goes out to buy piles of logs and check stands of trees.
“I like being out in the woods better,” Raber confessed. But knows the necessities of running a successful business.
As for hobbies, Raber said he enjoys traveling and playing corn hole. His partner is a 14-year old Amish boy.
“He’s really good,” Raber said with a twinkle. “We have finished second several times and won one tournament.”
In the winter, Raber enjoys playing in a church dart ball league. Dart ball involves lobbing darts at a board that mirrors a baseball field.
“We’ve won a lot of world series,” he said with a smile.
As for inspiration, Raber doesn’t look to star athletes or movie stars.
“My father is my hero,” he volunteered. “Everything I know I have learned from him.”
Just after he had said that, Raber’s 90-year-old father, Noah, entered the mill’s office fulfilling his daily chore of delivering the mail. When told what his son had just said about him, Noah Raber slyly replied, “That sounds about right to me.”
Clearly, Raber had a good role model for humor, too.
All I wanted was a new cell phone
By Bruce Stambaugh
All I really wanted was a new cell phone. The battery of the old one was about to give up the ghost.
When I say “old one,” I mean the cell phone I got just two years ago. I liked the phone because it was just what I wanted in a cell phone. It was simple, easy to use, slim, and fit snuggly in my right front pocket, where I keep my cell phone.
About a month before I was eligible to get a new, free phone, according to my contract, the battery quit holding a charge. I can’t imagine that dropping the phone onto the concrete floor of the garage had anything to do with that.
Besides the battery issue, my phone also talked to me, which I found annoying. I would bend over to tie my shoe, and a woman’s voice would spontaneously say from the inside of my pocket, “Please say a command.” She kept it up until I could find the clear button.
My wife was due for a new phone as well. Hers was much older than mine. A year in human time is an eternity by technology standards.
Leary of the national service provider retail stores, we prefer to use the local dealer. We recognize we sacrifice selection for service in doing so. But that’s just fine with us.
The young clerk at the store was friendly and helpful, and cast no disparaging comments my way when I said that all I wanted was a phone. However, she did look a little puzzled. So I thought I owed her an explanation.
Before I could begin, my wife, who has heard the pitch before, interjected that she preferred a phone that would make it easy for her to send text messages. The young sales woman quickly reached into the counter and pulled out a couple of phones, and demonstrated how they slid open.
My wife was almost giddy. Other than the color, either of the phones was just what she wanted.
The clerk returned her attention to me. I resumed my religious stance on cell phones.
“I just want a phone to make and receive calls,” I said simply. “I don’t text. I don’t want the Internet because of the additional cost. I don’t take pictures with my phone, and I don’t tweet.” My wife would have disputed the last point had we not been in a public setting.
Given my strict phone constraints, I only had two choices. I picked the one that best fit in my front pocket, even though it had a camera in it. My old phone did, too, and I never used it. I have a camera.
We arrived home with our new phones a short time later. As I walked up the front stairs, I heard a strange clicking noise like a camera going off in my front pocket. I took another step, and heard another click.
By the time I had reached the top of the steps, I already had two shots of the inside of my pocket. And I hadn’t even made a call.
I couldn’t figure out how this had happened until I discovered that the button that activates the camera was on the outside of the phone. I have no idea why the camera went off, other than to guess that the activation button was more sensitive than I was.
In short order, I figured out how to delete the pair of solid black shots. Apparently the flash comes separately.
Roadkill Crossing 
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