Columnist, Sheila
Moss, is a free-lance writer from Tennessee. She writes
funny stuff about southern life, women's issues, family
matters and anything else that she finds amusing.
She is
seen weekly in the Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton
Advocate, Daily News of Kingsport (online) and
appears in a monthly humor publication called Foolish
Times. She has written for Atlanta Woman Magazine,
and a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News
Journal. She has been
published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks
at Guidepost Books have recently published a number of her
articles in their Let There Be Laughter series of
books. Her articles have appeared in
numerous other publications, both print and online.
She is a board member and the Web
Editor of Columnists.com, website of the National Society of Newspaper
Columnists, the
oldest and largest professional organization
for news columnists. She is also the Web Editor of
SouthernHumorists.com, as well as this website, HumorColumnist.com.
To carry her self- syndicated weekly column in your
newspaper, or
to republish an
article, please contact her.
He rates are guaranteed affordable. It's that easy.
I
want to go back to the autumn of my childhood. I want to see
piles of pumpkins at roadside stands. I want to drink
apple cider that doesn't come in plastic jugs. I want to
feel the crisp air in the mornings as I walk to school. I want
to see a hint of frost on the ground that tells me the season is
changing. I want to observe the glorious riot of color as
trees try to outdo each other. I want to gather leaves in hues
of red, orange, and yellow.
For those whose natural teeth have received a rejection slip from the tooth
fairy, plastic choppers are somewhat better than the alternative of being a
toothless old geezer. The thrill of being able to flash beautiful, white,
plastic pearlies when you smile is unknown to those who still have their own
natural choppers.
Assuming you have already been in the torture chamber and experienced the
bloody, bone-cracking process of having your personal ivory collection
extracted, you know about the waiting period between the chain saw massacre and
the time when you can cancel the call to the Red Cross blood bank and look
forward to being a medical student's next assignment.
Like
Goldilocks and the three bears, we tried out all the chairs for
size. This one was too big, this one too small, this one too
stiff, this one too hard. Finally, we found a chair that was
"just right." The way my luck usually runs, I figured
it would be out of stock, but, no, they had one left in the back
-- unassembled.
You've seen pictures of old women with warts on their nose.
Soon that may be me. I have this nasty wart on my leg. I've
tried to ignore it, but it will not go away. I've tolerated it
about as long as possible. The wart has to go!
Warts are an ancient plague, the sort of thing that legend and
folklore are made of. Medical people say that warts are caused
by a virus and stress. Folklore says they are caused by toads
and curses.
Where,
oh, where do they all come from? I work during the week, and
presumed that everyone else did too. From the looks of the
Interstate in the morning going into the city, the whole world
commutes to downtown.
Imagine my surprise the other day when I took a day off work and
had to make a trip to the local Wal-Mart. Everyone will be at
work, I thought. The place will be empty. I'll park at the front
and run in and grab what I need in no time.
Wrong, wrong, oh, so wrong! The place was packed! It was almost
as bad as it is on Saturday.
You
may find this hard to believe, but it is absolutely true. I have
invisible dust at my house. I know it is invisible because no
one can see it except me. The furniture can have enough of the
stuff to rival a hazardous waste dump, but my family continues
in their daily activities, simply ignoring it as if it were not
there.
Surely, if they could see what I see, someone would say, "I
think it's time to clean," and run full speed for the
feather duster.
We've
been hearing a lot in the news about a disease called swine
flu. Laughter is always the best medicine for flu or any other
illness. From the funny farm, these are the
symptoms:
YOU MIGHT HAVE SWINE FLU IF. . .
* You always pig out at food bars.
* You got a traffic ticket for being a road hog.
* You only go to work to bring home the bacon.
* You call your bathtub the wallowing hole.