Just Me: Humorous, Helpful & Odd
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About this ebook
Kevin has the ability to take common everyday events and find the humor it them - things that most of us can relate to, which is why they are so popular. Many authors seem to try too hard, but Kevin has a sense of what is funny. Readers can tell he is having fun telling the story yet knows when to stop and not take things too far. Kevin’s pastoral side comes out in the last chapter and has become a signature part of his books. This actually completes the concept of Kevin being helpful as well as humorous, and sometimes odd.
Kevin T Boekhoff
Kevin resides in Sioux Falls, SD with his wife Katie of 34 years, his Yorkshire Terrier, T-Bone Dickens. He has done many things in his life from auto body repairman to Baptist pastor, which show up in his humorous stories. Once Parkinson's disease entered his life, he began writing creatively in earnest. Many have compared his unique sense of humor and writing style to Patrick F. McManus. Kevin has published two books. "I Forgot That I Remembered" is a humorous look at life with Parkinson's disease, and "Just Me: Humorous, Helpful & Odd," which is a humorous look at day to day life. Kevin is currently working on a Gospel Ventriloquism book, due out in the spring of 2014. He currently writes a column for Plains Magazine http://plainsmagazine.com/ called: Life's Amusing Moments. He has had several humorous stories published in The Motor Market magazine (www.themotormarket.com), Clever Magazine (www.clevermag.com), The Storyteller Magazine (www.thestorytellermagazine.com), Humor Press (www.humorpress.com).
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Just Me - Kevin T Boekhoff
Just Me: Humorous, Helpful & Odd
A collection of amusing stories, essays, bloggings, and thoughts from my life.
By Kevin T. Boekhoff
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2013 by Kevin T. Boekhoff
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover design by Katie Boekhoff
Photo by Katie Boekhoff
Discover other titles by Kevin T Boekhoff at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/kevintboekhoff
This book available in print from the author at http://kevintboekhoff.wordpress.com and most online retailers.
All scripture quotations in this book are taken from the King James Version (1611) of the Bible.
Acknowledgments
Katie, my wife and ever-faithful loving support and encouragement.
The Lord for giving me the gift of Parkinson’s disease, which has opened many doors in my life.
My proofreaders: Jan Andersen, Katie Boekhoff, Judy Cook, Mary Freeman, and those that prefer to remain anonymous.
I also want to acknowledge the publications in which parts of this book have appeared in various forms:
The Motor Market Magazine
(http://www.themotormarket.com/magazine): My First Car
, Cobrajetting
, Beaterization
, Stupidaline
and The Blonde and the Buzzard
.
The Story Teller Magazine
(http://www.thestorytellermagazine.com): Stupid or Smart Phones
(2nd place winner of the People’s Choice Award Essay contest), and The Attack of the Invisibugs.
Humor Press
(http://www.humorpress.com): The Great Communicator
(winner of the Semi-Finalist award) and My First Car
(winner of the Honorable Mention award).
Clever Magazine
(http://www.clevermag.com): A Tall Hunting Tale
and I Can Depend Upon Nobody.
Plains Magazine
(http://www.plainsmagazine.com): The Chicken-hawk
, Surprise!
, Winging It
, What is Stink?
Witty Banter
and "Perturbulence.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Part I: A Collection of Stories, Essays & Bloggings
The Great Communicator
Thoughts Run Amuck
The Chicken-hawk
Stupid or Smart Phones
Bee Safe
The Old Bat
I Can Depend Upon Nobody
Cobra Jetting
Traffic Lights
The Lint Storm
A Wrenching Experience
A Very Chocolate Christmas
The Thrill of the Chase
The Blonde and the Buzzard
The Bat-boat
Mudwrestling
Beaterization
Furball’s Fantasy
Like Me
It Was the Car’s Idea
Stupidaline
The Fish Without a Story
What is Stink?
Dishlicker Bus Lines
Rash Behavior
Weirdness
Witty Banter
My First Car
Incredible Credibility
Bad Dream Car
Winging It
Perturbulence
False Rescue
Beware of Dogs
Day of the Cherokee
Attack of the Invisibugs
Pet Peeve Grooming
Part II: Stuff I Made Up All by Myself
A Tall Hunting Tale
Gullible
Report for Homiletics Class
Rude & Crude
The Madman at the Door
The Not So Flexible Flyer
Just the Facts
The Manually Operated Minivac
The Old Bag in the Tree
Relaxation Station
Fruitcake Surprise
Phzzzzztttt
The Dead Mouse
Whatever You Do, Don’t
GPS
There’s Nothing Wrong with Humor
Glossary
About the Author
Part I:A Collection of Stories, Essays & Bloggings -
Creating a Memoir of Sorts
The stories and concepts presented in this section are basically true, as far as I can recall. I couched them in humor, with minor embellishments and name changes on occasion; therefore, I consider them creative non-fiction.
Introduction
Life, no matter how difficult it can be, always has humor embedded throughout. This book contains stories from all eras of my life.
At first, I attempted to organize the stories and essays chronologically. I tried it by topic. I experimented with listing them by eras. However, nothing seemed to work. I kept remembering new things to write about, which came to me in no particular order. My problem was; once I compiled this book with what I had on hand, I knew I would think of things I had never thought of before, and those stories could have been in this book - provided I had thought of them earlier.
I tried to make myself write about things systematically. However, good ideas on another tangent would pop up. I kept forcing myself to write stories simply because they were next in line. I had to write down the new concept and then go back to the first story or essay. However, that didn’t work, because the new idea invaded my thought process and took over anyway. I ended up setting aside the so-called system and returning to writing thoughts that were on my heart and mind instead. I simply didn’t know how to organize it into book form.
At book signings and speaking engagements, people repeatedly asked me when I would be coming out with a new book. One day, I realized a book of stories compiled from memories of my life would be finished only when I finished living, and death would complicate the process even more. I decided I might as well go ahead with the project. I looked through my files and discovered that I had enough stories for a book already. Thus, I moved forward with the project. I decided to organize the stories as I recalled them, haphazardly.
One day, I noticed a display table in a local bookstore with a sign that said, Humorous, Helpful and Odd.
I grabbed Katie and said, Look at that sign. It would make a great epithet on my tombstone, or a name for a book.
She agreed wholeheartedly and encouraged me to name this book after the sign. She felt, it described me to a tee. The stories and essays within these pages may strike you as humorous, or possibly odd. The helpful part is in the last section.
A Reminder:
Don’t forget to consult the glossary in the back of the book, which features words I made up, and includes other possibly unfamiliar words for the reader.
Proverbs 15:13 A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance
Proverbs 15:15 He that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast
Proverbs 17:22 A merry heart doeth good like a medicine
The Great Communicator
Most people don’t realize that I am a great communicator in the vein of Ronald Reagan, AKA the Great Communicator. Despite my grandest efforts to impress this concept upon the minds of others, technical difficulties in the transmission or reception of this information have repeatedly hindered my efforts. Most people still don’t know that I am a great communicator.
Despite great advances in the conveyance of information in its many forms, whether oral, written, gestures, or even basic guttural utterances, the biggest problem with communication is a gap. This communication gap works like digital television reception. If disrupted, the picture comes through in fits and starts, while the dialogue sounds like gick, gack, gack-gack, gick
.
Our marital telepathic interactions work great – we know each other’s thoughts, and at times, even think alike. At the same time, these sporadic occurrences disturb my wife, Katie, because she is afraid of us becoming an elderly couple who finish each other’s sentences. Other times the art of expressing and conveying ideas between us crumbles into an interchange of words that don’t accomplish their intended purpose of verbal expression, which the brain interprets as gick, gack, gack-gack, gick
.
We discovered a wonderful thing, the debit card. Instead of filling out check blanks, and recording the transaction in the register while the clerk waits patiently, or impatiently as the case may be, and the line behind me grows longer, all I have to do is swipe it through a slotted doohickey, answer a couple of questions and away I go. The trick is to remember to record the transaction in the checkbook register later. Occasionally, an entry is forgotten, but all in all, I do pretty well. I have a system. I put the receipt in the fold of my wallet, so that I see it whenever I open my billfold, which reminds me to record the money spent.
However, on one occasion, we had a communication gap regarding an entry. I was busy doing whatever it was I was busy doing at the time, when Katie, who was reconciling the checkbook, asked me, What is this entry in the checkbook about?
What entry is that?
I asked.
All it says is
Garage," she answered with slight annoyance in her voice.
The Garage is who it’s to,
I informed her matter-of-factly, knowing that I had done the right thing by entering the info in the register promptly.
But 'Garage' only tells me what you spent the money on, not where you spent the money.
I quickly realized that a communication gap had entered the room and threatened to enlarge itself to gacky
proportions. I quickly made an effort to deflate it before it could cause a no signal
ticker to march across my blank screen of conveyance. I did not spend the money ON the garage; I spent the money AT THE GARAGE.
I stated emphatically.
What’s the difference?
she asked. Reception was impaired, or was it the transmission?
I had the pickup repaired.
Soooo…..?
Obviously, my attempts to head off this event were failing.
AT The Garage, not IN the garage.
Certainly, emphasizing the major differences in the use of prepositions would clarify the issue.
Again, what is the difference between AT the garage or IN the garage or ON the garage or AROUND the garage? Just writing down 'garage' doesn’t explain anything.
The name of the place is 'The Garage',
which came across as gickygackiness. I know this because she did not respond favorably.
Argh,
she said, heavy on the gh.
Relying on my superior communication skills to bridge the gap, I reiterated the concept that I thought I had related before. I am not trying to be difficult. I had the pickup fixed at a shop called ‘The Garage’.
That’s a confusing name.
I had to admit, she did have a point. I didn’t name the place. There’s also a shop called ‘The Shop’.
Why would they do that?
I assume because they thought they were being clever; or else they were not very original like naming their dog, Dog or their cat, Cat.
Look at the confusion it causes,
she said.
It certainly had caused a communication gap to gickity-gack
up our marital bliss and happiness.
Well, I had to have the heater core fixed on the pickup.
Why didn’t you fix it?
Too difficult, even the mechanic said so.
You didn’t get it fixed then? What did you pay money for?
she asked.
They fixed it, but the mechanic had to tell me the story.
Well, do tell.
Mechanic:I had to unbolt the dashboard and move it out of the way.
Me: I know. That is why I brought it to you.
Mechanic:Did you know the heater core cover was gone? It is a wonder it worked at all.
Me:No, but that is why I brought it to you.
Mechanic:I had to be a contortionist in order to get to it.
Me:I know. That is why I brought it to you.
Mechanic:But I got it, I hope it doesn’t leak anymore.
Me:If it does, I’ll bring it back to you.
If it does leak, you won’t try to fix it yourself will you?
she asked
Nope, I’ll take it back to The Garage.
Well, next time would you put
car repair in the second entry line?
What do I do if I need to buy something to fix the garage?
You drive me crazy.
As you can see, even the greatest of communicators can have episodes of gickity-gackidicity.
Thoughts Run Amuck
I realize that I think differently than a lot of people. Some enjoy my sense of humor, some don’t understand it, and some dislike it. However, it is me. My thought life can be a strange place to occupy.
The other day I stopped in mid-stride to retrieve a thought that had escaped. My wife, with toothbrush in mouth, gave me a look that said, What is your problem?
I am thinking. Rather, I was thinking. Actually, the thought escaped me,
I informed her.
Hmmm, hmmm?
she asked, gesturing that it ran off somewhere.
Yes, I think it ran behind the couch,
I said as I walked that way to check. Her eyes rolled in response.
When I looked behind the couch, I found a plush squeak-toy lobster that existed merely for our dog’s enjoyment. I picked it up and showed Katie, I found it. I found my thought! I got it back!
Hmmm, hmmm,
she replied, as she returned to the bathroom sink to rid herself of the toothbrush and foam.
That’s what I figured. You have never actually seen a thought before. This surprised you because you never knew what a thought looked like, did you?
No, it’s actually exactly what I thought one of your thoughts would look like.
Sometimes conversations don’t go exactly like I think they will.
God made my mind. He understands the way I think. He designed my mind to be used. He made me with a sense of humor and with the capability to write humorously. He understands and appreciates my humor when used correctly. This reassures me that I am to use my mind, even though some may not understand or even approve. Parkinson’s disease has removed many distractions from my life, leaving writing as something I can still do.
The Chicken-hawk
One Sunday morning, just prior to our departure for church services, I allowed Dickens, our Yorkshire terrier puppy, a moment or two in the back yard to do what dogs need to do. He spent his time sniffing around for the perfect spot for such activities. While he did so, I stood vigil. I noticed a movement in the sky, looked up, and saw what my