So, you wanna know how to draw to the top of the four foot in curling? Allow the master to demonstrate:
Or how about an education on how to call the line on a hit and roll, to remove an opponent's stone and slip yours under cover?
There's your curling lessons for the day. Come out to the rink and I'll test you.
About 20 miles out of Detroit on I-96 is Levan Road. The sign for the exit says Levan Rd. There's nothing unusual about that, is there?
Years ago me Grandpa Joe had a delivery driver, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, who was a little slow on the uptake. Me Pops one day sent him out with a load of welding equipment intended for a place off Levan in western Wayne County.
About three hours after the scheduled delivery time, the company called asking where it was. This was the time before cell phones, so there was no easy way to track Cloyce. Dad had to wait to hear from him for an explanation.
Cloyce happened to walk into the old barn about ten minutes later anyway. "I couldn't make that delivery, Bill," he said.
"Why not? Pops demanded. "I wrote out exact directions." Surely the old man did, knowing Cloyce.
"Well, Bill, I drove all the way out past Ann Arbor (easily 40 miles beyond target) and I could not find Levanrd." Apparently Dad wrote the abbreviation for road too close to Levan.
With a heavy sigh Dad more precisely explained himself and sent Cloyce back out.
I went to Mass the other day at St. Hedwig in Detroit. It was funny.
Oh, everything went all right until the very end. But I think the priest had an appointment and was running late. Yet the choir was singing a hymn and apparently intended to see it through all six or eight verses.
From the altar, Father waved at the choir loft, clearly an indication he was ready to wrap things up. The singing continued. He waved more emphatically, as if trying to catch the attention of a far off friend or a New York City cab. The song went on, and very well, I'll concede.
Father next made the cut sign. He ran his pointer finger across his neck, slowly and deliberately. He really did. And the song finally stopped. I think it just ended, but I'm sure Father took it as a victory.
I've seen more unusual endings to a Church service.
Nah, I haven't.
Me brother once bragged facetiously, "When I have a hammer I'm like lightning. I never hit the same place twice!"
A buddy of his, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, responded, "Well I'm not lightning then. When I'm hammering a nail I can hit the same place two, three times."
"That so?" Phil asked.
"Yep. It's usually my left thumb," explained Cloyce.
Oh, that Cloyce.
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