One for the fellas . . .

[Sweder]

A role model for all men in these modern emancipated times.

My name is Ron.

Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Julie. When I took "early retirement" last year, it became necessary for Julie to get a full-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age.

I usually get home from the golf course about the same time she gets home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club, so eating out is not really reasonable. I'm ready for some Home cooked grub when I hit that door.

She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

Another symptom of ageing is complaining, I think.
For example she will Say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush
about so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean).
I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods.
She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the lawn.
I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly-squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while.
And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Julie.
I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your ageing wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.....

Signed,
Ron


EDITOR'S NOTE:
Ron died suddenly on May 27th.
The police report says that he was found with a Calloway extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club rammed up his ass, with only 2 inches of grip showing. His wife Julie was arrested and charged with murder; however, the all-woman jury found her "Not Guilty", accepting her defence that he accidentally sat down on it very suddenly.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Hello, my name is Ron Jr.

I have been engaged to my fiancee for some months now and due to be married next Saturday. Last week my fiancee's younger, and it must be said, very attractive sister called me and asked me to go to her house to discuss the wedding plans. When I arrived she was alone, and gave me a warm, rather-more-than sisterly hug. She then announced that she had always had a deep sexual attraction for me and could no longer deny her feelings and wanted one no-holds-barred fling with me before releasing me to her sister for the rest of our lives. She then started to lead me to her bedroom, rapidly undressing as she went.

Well, what's a bloke to do? I immediately broke away from her and rushed out the front door, where the entire family stood cheering and applauding wildly. The father congratulated me on passing their "little test" with flying colours and welcoming me to the family...

And the moral of the story? Always keep your condoms in the car.

[El Gordo]

Hello, I'm Ron Sr, Ron's elderly father.

This morning as I was tending to the roses, my attractive young neighbour leaned from her bedroom window and asked me to come upstairs and make love to her. I told her it would have to be one or the other...




(Apologies to the ageing Clement Freud. This was a quote of his I noticed on the front of the Times yesterday)

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Howdie, I'm a distant cousin of Ron's, called Ronnie, from Minnesota.

Last year I decided to write a book about famous churches around the world. So I bought a plane ticket and took a trip to Orlando, thinking that I would start by working across the USA from South to North. On the first day I was inside a church taking photographs when I noticed a golden telephone mounted on the wall with a sign that read "$10,000 per call". Being intrigued, I asked a priest who was strolling by what the telephone was used for. The priest replied that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 you could talk to God. I thanked the priest and went on my way. Next stop was in Atlanta. There, at a very large cathedral, was the same golden telephone with the same sign under it. I naturally wondered if this was the same kind of telephone I saw in Orlando and asked a nearby nun what its purpose was. She also said that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 anyone could talk to God. I thanked her and then traveled to Indianapolis, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Boston, and New York. In every church was the same golden telephone with the same "$10,000 per call" sign under it.

Next, upon leaving Vermont I decided to travel to AUSTRALIA to visit my other cousin Ronnie, and to see if Australians had the same phone. On arrival in Australia, and again, in the first church I entered, there was the same golden telephone, but this time the sign under it read "30 cents per call." Surprised, I asked the priest about the sign. "Father, I've traveled all over America and I've seen this same golden telephone in many churches. I'm told that it is a direct line to Heaven, but in the US the price was $10,000 per call. Why is it so cheap here?" The priest answered, "You're in Australia now, son - it's a local call".