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Categorized | Roger on Main St.

Roger on Main StreetLiving well
Hey, old folks. I’m celebrating my good health! I’ve noticed that lots of people in the obituaries didn’t make it to my age. So far I’ve had no hip or knee replacements. No sign of cancer yet. Not one of the myriad diseases that creep up on us and bring us to the end. Except for that little kidney problem, which dialysis takes care of with an inconvenience I’d call minor for my age. It’s good to be here.

However…
If my body were a car, this is the time I’d be thinking about trading it in for a newer model. I’ve got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish and my paint job is getting a little dull. My headlights are out of focus and it’s especially hard to see things up close.
My traction isn’t as graceful as it once was. I slip and slide and skid and bump into things even in the best of weather. My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins.
The worst of it is, my fuel rate burns inefficiently. It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed. And don’t expect me to start up before noon.

Driving, No. 1
A couple, traveling on the Kansas Turnpike, bucking a 30 to 45 mph crosswind, came to a tollbooth. “What do you people in Kansas do when the wind quits?” asked the driver.
The tollbooth attendant didn’t miss a beat: “We take the rocks out of our pockets.”

Driving, No. 2
An off-duty police officer, familiar with radar guns, drove through a school zone, within the legal speed limit, when the flash of a camera went off, taking a picture of his license plate. The officer, thinking the radar was in error, drove by again and even more slowly. Another flash. He did it for a third time, at an even slower speed. Same result.
“These settings must be screwed up,” the off-duty officer thought.
A few weeks later when he received the violations in the mail, he discovered three traffic tickets: each for not wearing a seat belt.

Driving, No. 3
A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead all work at the same office for a female boss who always goes home early. “Hey, girls,” says the brunette, “let’s go home early tomorrow. She’ll never know.”
So the next day they all drive away right after the boss does. The brunette gets some extra gardening done, the redhead goes to a bar, and the blonde goes home to find her husband playing patty cake with the female boss. The blonde quietly sneaks out of the house and drives back home at her normal time.
The next day the brunette says, “That was fun. We should do it again sometime.”
“No way,” says the blonde. “I almost got caught.”

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