Hill-Topics
Since I didn't hear any complaints about the Halloween jokes, or the Thanksgiving jokes, I figured you'd appreciate a few Yuletide yuks for Christmas. I hope you like them better than fruitcake.
Q: Who sings "Love me tender," and wraps Christmas toys?
A: Santa's little Elvis!
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Speaking of wrapping, we wrapped up one of our best Christmas presents and brought her home on Saturday — our youngest daughter is moving to Hillsboro.
A college freshman, Jillian, 19, spent her first semester at Fort Scott Community College, but will transfer next semester to McPherson College.
Getting Jillian and her earthly possessions packed up and moved 185 miles from Fort Scott was a family mission. It began Friday.
Grandpa Keith and Uncle Rick brought a truck and covered trailer from Wichita, and, brother, Garrison, came from Hutchinson.
They packed her possessions in about 20 minutes, and brought them back to Hillsboro.
On Saturday morning, her mother, Claire, and I drove to Fort Scott to help Jillian clean and paint her apartment back to its original luster, and so collect the $200 deposit.
After a few months out of the nest, Jillian has a fresh outlook on life. Her already-wise parents now seem guru-like in their wisdom.
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Q: Speaking of wisdom, what if there'd been three Wise Women instead of three Wise Men?
A: They would've asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned up the stable, and brought practical gifts.
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Garrison, 20, also is moving this week, from Hutchinson to El Dorado to attend Butler Community College, where he has signed to play football for the Grizzlies.
Speaking of Butler, at the Hillsboro basketball games Friday night, I received a bone-crushing handshake from former Trojan standout Wade Weibert.
The super-sized 6-foot, 5-inch, 300-pound lineman just finished his freshman season at Butler and was home for a break. He's impressive both in stature and deportment.
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Q: Speaking of animals, why does Scrooge love Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?
A: Every buck is dear to him.
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Did you see the recent TV show about the horrific dangers of putting up Christmas lights? I wish I'd have seen that about 12 years ago, before I fell off a ladder myself.
It happened in December, in Iowa, back when I thought good television reception was worth dying for.
The antenna was located on the top of the second story roof. I got up on the slanted, first-level roof, and tried to even up the ladder legs by using a few boards.
Of course, the boards slipped. The ladder fell. I landed flat on my back on the first-level roof, slid off the house, onto my back, in the snow.
I wheezed out, "Call 911!"
My wife and children were unable to come to my aid, because they were laughing too hard.
With all my clothing layers, goose-down coat, and a layer of new-fallen snow, I wasn't really hurt, I just had the air knocked out of me.
And to this day, whenever I think I might be hurt, but am not, my family shouts out, "Dad! Call 911!"
Nevertheless, I will climb, soon, or maybe I'll put up the lights elf high.
If I wait for the children to get home and they find me up on the ladder, they'll have a very, Merry Christmas, at Santa's expense.
— GRANT OVERSTAKE
