Here are the telltale signs that someone is afraid of going to Silverwood.
• Walks around muttering “Not getting on that thing — no, sir.”
• When potential plans for the day are being discussed, says “As long as we don’t decide to get hauled up to a considerable height and then essentially dropped.”
• Without being asked, volunteers that “I prefer to avoid activities that might put a strain on my gizzard.”
• “I went on a rollercoaster like that 20 years ago. Still getting over it.”
• “What? What? Oh. You said ‘I would if I could.’ For a second there, I thought you said Silverwood. Never mind.”
• “You all go ahead, and have fun. I’ll just stay home and retch right here.”
• “Me? My goal is to get through the day without being inverted.”
• Without prompting, says “You know, I am quite content with the G forces I am experiencing here in my recliner.”
Last day of school: “I was in fourth grade in 1947 and the tradition was that we had a school picnic on the last day of school,” wrote Jeanne Harmer. “The parents were asked to support the picnic with food and donations.”
At that time, her father was a deliveryman in the Kansas City area for Velvet Freeze Ice Cream.
So on the last day of school, with the picnic in full swing, Harmer’s dad rolled up in his truck and began handing out single-serve cups of ice cream. As you might imagine, that was a big hit.
John Mraz’s story dates back to 1965. “The principal of our high school pulled me out of class to ask me if I thought I could borrow my dad’s truck to haul away the outhouse that mysteriously appeared on the 50-yard line during the night … knowing full well that the tire tracks would be a perfect match.”
Mraz went home and got the truck. When he returned, he found that the principal had drafted several other seniors to help remove the outhouse. Nothing more was said about it. “Maybe being valedictorian bought me some clemency.”
Today’s Slice question: When casting from a moving boat near a lakeshore, how many anglers have snagged the hook in an overhead tree branch?
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