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WHERE ARE MY GLASSES? WHERE ARE MY GLASSES? Yesterday my daughter e-mailed me again asking why I didn't do something useful with my time. Like sitting around the pool and drinking wine is not a good thing. Talking about my "doing something useful" seems to be her favorite topic of conversation. She was "only thinking of me" and suggested I go down to the senior center and hang out with the guys. I did this and when I got home last night I decided to teach her a lesson about staying out of my business. I e-mailed her and told her that I had joined a parachute club. She replied, "Are you nuts? You are 73 years old, and now you're going to start jumping out of airplanes?" I told her that I even got a membership card and e-mailed a copy to her. She immediately telephoned me, "Good grief, where are your glasses! This is a membership to a Prostitute Club, not a Parachute Club." "Oh man, I'm in trouble again; I really don't know what to do... I signed up for five jumps a week." The line went quiet and her friend picked up the phone and said that she had fainted.
"Harli Mala" Permalink