Random Robby Thoughts
Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.
Talk is cheap. That’s why so many people do so much of it.
I really don’t mind getting older, but my body is taking it badly.
TOP SAYINGS WE’D LIKE TO SEE ON THOSE OFFICE INSPIRATIONAL POSTERS
~ Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines.
~ Rome did not create a great empire by having meetings…they did it by killing all those who opposed them.
~ We put the “k” in “kwality.”
~ A person who smiles in the face of adversity probably has a scapegoat.
~ If at first you don’t succeed, try management.
~ Teamwork means never having to take all the blame yourself.
~ Go the extra mile. It makes your boss look like an incompetent slcker.
~ Indecision is the key to flexibility.
~ Aim low. Reach your goals. Avoid disappointment.
~ You pretend to work, and we’ll pretend to pay you.
~ Work: It isn’t just for sleeping anymore.
A minister parked his car in a no-parking zone in a large city because he was short of time and couldn’t find a space with a meter.
So he put a note under the windshield wiper that read: “I have circled the block 10 times. If I don’t park here, I’ll miss my appointment. FORGIVE US OUR TRESPASSES.”
When he returned, he found a citation from a police officer along with this note. “I’ve circled this block for 10 years. If I don’t give you a ticket, I’ll lose my job. LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.”
Higher gasoline prices caused by the shortage of oil. The less oil we have, the higher the price at the pump. There are a lot of folks that can’t understand how we ran out of oil here in the USA. Well, here’s the answer: It’s simple… nobody bothered to check the oil. We didn’t know we were getting low! The reason for that is obviously geographical, all the oil is in Texas and Oklahoma, and all the dipsticks are in Washington, D.C.!!!
Q: What does a dog do that a man steps in? A: Pants.
Q: What kind of coffee was served on the Titanic? A: Sanka.
There is a mental institution that every year picks two of it’s most reformed patients and questions them. If they get the questions right they are free to leave.
This year the two lucky gents were Greg and Mike. They were called down to the office and left there by the orderly. They were told to wait as the doctor got their files.
The doctor came out and motioned for Greg to come in for his questioning.
When Greg came into the office he was instructed to sit in the seat across from the doctor.
“Greg you know the tradition of this institution so I imagine you know why you are here. You will be asked two questions, and if you get them right, you will be free to go. Do you understand all that you have been told?” said the doctor with a rather sly grin.
Greg nodded and the doctor began to question him. The first question was this. “Greg if I was to poke out one of your eyes what would happen?”
“I would be half blind of course,” Greg answered without much thought.
“What would happen if I poked out the other eye?”
“I would be completely blind,” said Greg knowing that he had just gotten his freedom. The doctor then sent him outside while he drew up the paperwork and accessed Mike’s files. When Greg got into the waiting room however, he told Mike what the questions would be and what the correct answers were.
The doctor calls in Mike and he followed the same procedure that he had with Greg. “Mike the first question is what would happen if I cut off your ear?”
“I would be blind in one eye,” he said remembering what he had been told.
This received a perplexed look from the doctor but he just simply asks the other question so that he could figure out what the man was thinking.
“Mike, what would happen if I cut off your other ear?”
“I would be completely blind,” he answered with a smile as if he knew he had passed.
But then the doctor asked him what his reasoning was, and he said flatly, “My hat would fall down over my eyes!”
I stopped at a friend’s house the other day and found him stalking around the kitchen with a flyswatter.
When I asked if he had gotten any flies he answered, “Yeah, 5 …. 3 males and 2 females.”
Curious, I inquired as to how he could tell the difference.
He answered, “It’s easy, 3 were on a beer can and 2 were on the phone.
In this story from April 1956, the popular film star shares how becoming a father reminded him of the importance of regular church attendance.
Twelve years ago I married one of the most famous dancing stars in Hollywood. Today I am married to a Sunday school teacher. I haven’t changed wives, either. I am still married to the glamorous Eleanor Powell. What’s more, the change in my wife’s roles, far from dimming the drama in our lives, has led us both to a richer experience.
The truth is that since our son, Peter Newton Ford, arrived ten years ago, both Ellie and I have found God in a new way.
In the beginning, neither Ellie nor I was a stranger to God. I think we had always tried to be “good” people in His sight. Ellie was raised a staunch Presbyterian, and I taught in the Episcopal Sunday school for a while after I graduated from high. Then, although we had not yet met, the same thing happened to us that seems to happen to a lot of people.
We just got too busy. Ellie was breaking into musical comedy in New York. I was making screen tests in Hollywood and appearing on Broadway. Show business can be pretty high tension whether you’re scrambling up the ladder toward the top or balancing on one foot to stay there. Almost without my noticing the change, Sunday wasn’t church day anymore. It was a day of rest. No performance. No audience. No tension. It was old-clothes day, read-and-sleep day.
For myself, I honestly believed that skipping church wouldn’t dim my faith in God or make any difference in my relationship to Him. Occasionally, if I felt a personal need, as I did when my father passed away, I still went to church and came away strengthened, refreshed.
Dad’s passing, when I was 22, left me more deeply disturbed than I would confess. I couldn’t shake off my sorrow and loneliness. Still close to the church habit, I walked around New York one gloomy Sunday and finally entered a church at random.
The minister read from the 14th chapter of John: “Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions…” I have heard those words since—in Westminster Abbey, on the deck of the U.S.S. California when I was in the Marine Corps—always with the same feeling that they reached out to answer a personal need.
That morning in New York was the first time their tremendous promise penetrated my consciousness, and I left the service filled with such peace as I had not known in many weeks.
Now, would any man wittingly turn his back on such a source of help? You wouldn’t think so. But my immediate need had been met, and Sunday once more became a day of rest.
Then, after Ellie and I had been married for two years, along came Peter.
Peter made the usual changes in our lives. The night watch, diapers, never putting down an open safety pin, hiding Father’s shiny cuff links when he got to the toddling stage. But it went deeper. Our own reeducation had begun.
Mine started almost at once. I had to begin to practice what I preached about table manners, and opening and closing doors for ladies, being alert in matters of honesty, neatness, the use of the English language. Peter’s mother pointed out very firmly that we couldn’t expect young Peter to “do as we say and not as we do.”
Then Peter was enrolled in Sunday school in the Presbyterian Church of Beverly Hills. Or I should say Peter and Glenn and Ellie were enrolled. For could I say: “Run along, little man, and learn about God. Dad will sleep.”
Obviously not. Furthermore our Sunday school encouraged parents to sit in the back of the church while their young were being instructed.
We didn’t exactly study their lessons with them, but I found myself learning other things. I learned that, in neglecting church, I had been missing something, that church could act as a catalyst between God and me, help to keep Him front-and-center in my consciousness, increase my awareness of Him in daily living.
I found that forming part of a congregation meant a closer tie with my fellow man, a giving, a sharing, as well as taking. Gradually I realized that, while I’d had no complaints before, things seemed to work more smoothly; I felt better; and I could only believe this stemmed from an increased vigor in my religious life stimulated by having Peter take us to Sunday school.
I watched, too, our friends who attended church as families, and saw that church life seemed to act as a magnet, a center that drew them into harmonious unity.
Perhaps the finest thing I learned was to watch with humility the fulfillment that can come from accepting Divine direction.
When Ellie decided to marry me and give up her career for family life and motherhood, I’ll admit to moments of wondering if it weren’t a shame that all my wife’s wonderful talents should be reserved only for Peter and me and our immediate circle. Knowing how much real pleasure her dancing had given thousands, I sometimes felt that it was selfish of me to stand by and let her hide her light under a bushel of household duties.
But Ellie seemed sure that her decision was the right one and that if she were doing the Lord’s will, a way would open up which would enable her to blend her professional talents with her family duties. Without her seeking it, without tension or struggle, a new opportunity did unfold which was part and parcel of our family life and through which she has reached a new audience of millions.
The seed was small and it grew naturally. One morning I dashed into Sunday school just under the wire to find Ellie leading the singing. Obviously she was enjoying it, and so were the kids. Shortly afterward she began serving as a substitute teacher, then took a regular class of her own.
That was 7 years ago, and she has yet to miss a single Sunday. Never have I seen her inspire a Broadway audience the way she inspires those youngsters. They don’t miss any Sundays either. And soon, on week days, the neighborhood kids were flocking around demanding Bible stories. She was, in theatrical terms, a “natural.” Nor was I the only one to notice it.
Over a year ago she was asked to teach her Sunday school class on television. We had both turned down TV offers before. Again Ellie said “no,” this time for a different reason. She felt her former professional status might make suspect her appearance before the public in this new role. It took our own minister, Dr. Sam Allison, and the Reverend Clifton E. Moore of the presbytery quite a while to persuade her.
Once persuaded, she went into action. She added several children to her group to include all denominations. We hired a bus, and right after her regular class in church, off we went to the television station.
Technically, now I produce my wife’s show, Faith of Our Children, for Station KRCA, Channel 4, in Los Angeles, something I once dreamed of doing. But in those days of “restful Sundays” I never dreamed it would be such a show, nor that I could be so proud of the production. If Ellie, in the years of her retirement, became simply Glenn Ford’s wife, well, every Sunday I now become Teacher’s husband. Nominally I’m supposed to “obtain suitable guests, write and produce,” but actually I load the bus, brush hair and straighten ties, or provide an escort to and from the drinking fountain.
Whenever I try to summarize exactly how this all happened to us, I find myself turning to my star performer. At the close of each TV performance, Ellie shares with every listening parent the secret for happier living that our own son Peter taught us, when he took us to Sunday school with him.
“Stay with your children more,” she suggests. “Play with your children more. Above all, pray with your children more.”