We had one day of semi-warm weather this week and I took advantage of the weather blip to clean out my chicken house. I hired a new friend, Ben denPichett, to help me. He did the heavy lifting. I helped with the light stuff … and together we completed the onerous task in only three hours. My compost pile has been enormously, nutritiously enriched.
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Last Saturday evening, I attended the annual fund-raising banquet in Council Grove of the Flint Hills Chapter of the Quail and Upland Wildlife Federation conservation group.
It wuz a great event. Close to 300 folks packed into a building on the Morris County Fairgrounds to spend a bunch and eat and drink a bunch in a worthwhile cause. It wuz my first attendance of that QUWF chapter’s banquet and I wuz impressed by the abundant and active leadership.
I wuz also impressed at how many teen and pre-teen youngsters were active in the youth chapter and how many children attended. The youngsters even had their own raffle and fund-raising activities.
In addition to raising funds for local and area wildlife conservation efforts, a college scholarship was given to a student local student planning to major in vet medicine at Kansas State University.
I’ve attended dozens of similar wildlife conservation banquets in the past decades and I’ve never come away from one without a good story for my column. This year a group of obvious good friends were seated at an adjoining table. About mid-banquet, I noticed that two of the guys very cautiously attached a paper sign on one of their buddy’s back.
As the “victim” walked away, the rest of his friends chuckled and giggled in obvious glee.
Interested, I got up and followed the victim to see what the back-sign said. It read: “I Love Goats.” The poor fellow walked around for quite awhile with that sign on his back for all to see. But when he discovered it, he took the practical joke in good stride and joined the laugh at himself.
On my way home after the banquet, I recalled a funny incident that happened at one of the first such banquets I attended years ago in southeast Kansas. Out of better judgement, I’ll not name the location.
What happened is this: All evening long the beverages flowed like water and, by the time of the live auction, many in the crowd were feeling no pain. One item on the auction wuz a group of 15 to 20 small-framed original paintings of the heads of various duck species.
For reasons known only to the auctioneer, he decided to auction one print with the understanding that the winning bidder was taking each and every painting in the set for that price. In other words, the winning bid on one print, times the number of prints on the set was the total price.
Although the auctioneer explained the process well, one enthusiastic bidder (probably a duck hunter) pushed the bid up over $50 and won the auction. But when the auctioneer did the math and announced that the total for the set wuz just south of $1,000, the winning bidder looked astonished and explained that he thought he wuz buying the entire set for the low amount.
Well, before the auctioneer could sort the mess out, the winning bidder’s wife, or perhaps girlfriend, solved the problem. She grabbed her man by the lobe of his right ear, twisted and marched him right out the front door and out of the banquet.
After the stunned laughter died down, the auctioneer had no choice but to restart the bidding. As I recall, the enthusiasm had vanished from the bidding and the set of duck prints sold cheap — real cheap.
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Playing the cattle futures market is risky bizness as many an old-time cattleman can attest.
But, each generation brings along a new set of cattle folks who believe they have the moxey to outsmart the markets. I heard about one such case when the market went south when the “moxey-man” risked it all on the market going north.
And, as you’ve probably guessed, he lost everything.
After the debacle, the poor guy faced the fact that at least half of his friends had deserted him and acted like they hardly knew him.
Ah, you ask — but what about the other half of his friends? Well, I’m guessing they just haven’t found out about his financial meltdown yet.
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Overheard in the local cafe. Two guys, a farmer and a rancher, were in a mild discussion about the relative merits of dogs and horses as man’s best friend. The rancher persisted that the horse is equal to the dog as man’s best friend.
But, the farmer won the argument when he responded, “When wuz the last time your horse jumped into your lap in your truck and gave you a slobbery kiss.”
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For my words of wisdom this week, I turn to financial analyst Kenneth J. Gerbino, He said, “If you don’t trust the logic of gold, why do you trust the logic of taking a beautiful pine tree, worth about $4,000 – $5,000, cutting it up, turning it into pulp and then paper, putting some ink on it and then calling it one billion dollars?”
Hum-m-m. Which would you rather have? Have a good un.
