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WATCH OUT FOR THE ROCKS!

7/30/2011

 
    A small Niagara Adventures sightseeing boat leaves Grand Island with two
guides, two young board members along for the ride, and eleven tourists. The motor
conks out two miles from Niagara Falls. The guides grab oars and start rowing for the
nearby American shore. The board members grab the other pair of oars and start rowing
toward Canada.
    “We’re too far from Canada,” says a passenger.
    “Our uncle owns Niagara Adventures, and I say we can make it to Canada,” says a
BM. The Guides and BMs keep rowing in opposite directions.
    “We’re getting nowhere,” says a passenger, “and drifting toward the falls!”
    “These people want to go home,” says a guide.
    “They were promised a visit to Canada,” says a BM.
    “Canada is too far.” A guide turns to the passengers. “Which do you want?”
    “USA!” yell nine.
    “Canada!” yell two.
    “See? It’s Canada,” say the BMs.
    “The majority want USA” say the guides.
    “They had discount tickets. Discount passengers have no vote.”
    “We’re drifting closer to the falls,” cries a passenger.
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    “We’ll be killed if we go over.  There’s rocks at the bottom.”
    “I never saw any rocks.”
    “They’re hidden by water and mist.”
    “Can you prove there are rocks?”
    “Everybody knows there are rocks. These people need to go home!”
    “Discount people. Real people visit Canada.”
    “Hear the roaring? See the mists? For God’s sake, stop arguing, and head for
home!”
    “I will not be stampeded by fake people!”
    “If you don’t do something we’re all going to die!”
    One of the BMs takes out an iPhone. “Excuse me for a minute.”
    “What are you doing?”
    “Calling father. He and mother made this trip when they married. He’ll know if
there are rocks. And if he doesn’t, I can ask Google.”
    “We’re all going to die!”.
    “Oh, zip it.”
                                 (Tune in tomorrow).


Comments are closed.
    Picture

    Author (Yuma, AZ, 1944)

    Being 90 years in this world,  with great kids,  great grandkids, great wives (two, one at a time) and great memories, I wonder why some people seem to have stopped loving the U.S.A.? I will wonder in print right here. If you wonder too, or can provide some answers, please comment.
                                   Stuart Hodes

    Picture
           With my friend, Nero.
                   April, 2012.
        Photo by Ray Madrigal

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