March 10, 2000

Noise

How much noise can you stand? The other day, I went to one of those country dance halls to look for a friend of mine. When I walked in, I stopped in my tracks. The band was playing so loud that all I could see were people’s mouths moving. I couldn’t hear them talk.

There was a young dude standing in front of the band with his mouth wide open. The noise from the band had him hypnotized. I know that cat is going to need hearing aids before he gets to be 30 years old.

If I were a young man today, I would buy stock in a hearing aid company because with the “baby boomers” coming in and the noise that they will put up with, they will all be wearing hearing aids early in their lives.

Other noises to endure is an unattended baby that is crying at the top of its voice. This is especially true in church, with the mother just sitting there and letting the baby cry.

Also if you are in a restaurant all relaxed from a long day’s work and sitting at a table ready to eat, when a group of people come in with a crying baby and sit next to you.

Another noise that will run up your blood pressure is when your neighbor’s dog barks all night and every night!

How about a couple who goes shopping and leaves their little boy in the car and he blows the horn continually? Now, the most blood-curdling noise to me is when someone with long fingernails scratch a black board from one end to the other.

To avoid all these types of noises, move to Pecan Island!

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Did you know that in two days, tomorrow will be yesterday? Yesterday, today and tomorrow — Yesterday, you relive everything in the past. It’s all just a memory; like Margaret Mitchell says, “It’s gone with the wind.” Today — is the happenings that are going on now; it’s nothing in the past and will be a memory in the future. Tomorrow — is the future that only God knows what’s going to happen. But we know one thing: we are getting older and soon we will have no memories.

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One there was a lady riding a bicycle in front of Henry Loeb’s store. She looked at the sign and went into the store. She told Mutt LeBlanc, who worked there, that Henry Loeb must be Jewish. Mutt said, “Yes.” Well, she said that she was Jewish also and that her husband had been transferred to Morgan City from a little town in Pennsylvania. She also said that there were hardly any Jewish people where they had moved from.

Richard Loeb, sitting in the back overhearing the lady, said in a loud voice, “Lady, that must be a damn poor town if there’s not many Jews.”

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