Door bell wired wrong

[Steve Barker]

Ellie May... Wheeeeeeeeee doggie!

[Steve]

Loved that show! Especially the first year or two it was on........

Wish I could hit some of that "Black Gold - Texas Tea!"

Steve

[mm]

I've been trying to explain that to you, Granny. It's not a quinsidents. They come to the door because they like the music.

Jethro, do you get it yet?

[mm]

Yeah. It had the potential to be so stupid, but instead it was great.

I think it must pay to hire good writers.

[mm]

I've had a desklamp, the kind with a heavy steel base and a flexible, spiral metal tube going up to the light, with a semispherical metal shade around the bulb, where the top of the copper colored bulb holder, which has the weight of the bulb and the metal shade on it, and the socket itself, falls off a lot, probably every time I used it, and it's done this since I got the lamp in 1966.

That's probably why the previous owner left it behind in a room I lived in after he did.

Last summer I finally drilled a hole through the top part and the bottom part, and put in a short sheet metal screw. It hasn't come apart since.

[lp13-30]

Hard to believe, but Ellie May is 70 this year, or possibly even older. I had read that she was born in 1937, which would have put her at 25 when the show began and 34 when it ended, but recently saw several sites on the web that gave her BOD as several years before that. I read that she has a son who was born in 1954. Regardless, she sure did look good on the show. I guess she and Jethro are the only ones left from the original cast now. Time marches on-- Larry

[Steve B]

And if it came on today, they wouldn't let it on. It is not politically correct, and profiles minorities in a derogatory way. If you think of it, a lot of the old shows wouldn't be PC correct enough to make it through the network screeners today.

The other day, I watched Blazing Saddles. Blazing Saddles would not be allowed today, and I wonder how this was allowed back then. They cut out the fart scene around the campfire, but left in the doobie smoking scenes in the marshall's office.

Go figger.

Steve

[Thomas Horne]

Steve B wrote:

When I was about ten years old my father was working three jobs to keep the family fed. Sunday morning was the only day he got to sleep in. It was also the day that a Saturday sabbath sect would try to convert the Sunday sabbath heretics. The first time they called my mother told them never to return but that only raised their missionary fervor. The second time my father promised they would regret it if they wakened him again. When they still insisted that he should hear them out he developed an oddly determined look. The next Saturday he got his boss to let him off early and came home with a box of parts from his full time employers scrap heap. He spent five hours running pipes in the front porch overhead. When they rang the door bell the next morning the solenoid valve opened and they were soaked by the cold water coming from the newly installed fire sprinklers in the porch ceiling. When they returned the next Sunday carrying umbrellas my father had already opened the valve that supplied the cornice sprinklers in each corner of the porch that pointed upward from floor level. My mother, having lost all patience with these zealots had called the police when they had hove into sight. Not only did they get soaked again but they had to have a conversation with a harness bull who, like my mother, was Irish Catholic. My siblings and I watched in fascination as that policeman wrote each of them a citation for trespass. The next Sunday morning we awoke to find part of the catholic high school football squad camped out in cars in front of our house. I think my father was disappointed that my mother had run the zealots off. I suspect that he had several more Sundays worth of entertainment planned for us when my mother spoiled it all by loosing her temper. She knew how hard my dad was working and really got mad at these deluded folks. She had not noticed that my father was having a good time outwitting them.

-- Tom Horne

[Steve Barker]

She was born 9/26/33

[mm]

Then that's really amazing that she has such a good body.

Freudian slip? BOD instead of DOB.

[JoeSpareBedroom]

Cut out the fart scene??? Local TV station?

[Harry K]

When I first moved into this house in the country, I was plagued by the JWs for several years. I learned that if you start to talk to them, even just to say 'not interested' they ain't gonna leae without a fight.

I thought I had fixed the problem the day I was woke up (working graveyard). Sleep in the nekkidness so threw on a bathrobe to answer the door...yep them again. Had a reasonable conversation going saying I really wasn't interested etc when they suddenly left. Gee, could it be that I was letting my robe gape open more and more?

No more heard from them for years then two years ago, there they were again.

I saw the Watchtower sticking out of their briefcase as I oopened the door. "I am not interested in your cult. Leave, NOW!"

Haven't seen them since.

Point is the only thing that works is outright rudeness.

Harry K

[Doug Miller]

What do you expect, if you continue to stand there? In my experience, it works just fine to tell them politely: "Thank you, but I'm not interested. Good day!" then turn around and go back in the house. [snip]

The only thing you've found, perhaps -- or tried -- and of course that doesn't bother them anyway: "Blessed are you when they persecute and revile you for my sake..."

The method I described above worked fine for me for a long time. Then, about eight years ago, I found an even better one. I tell the JWs we're Roman Catholic [true, BTW] and happy with it [also true].

They don't seem to want to stick around long after that.

At our previous house, the crucifix hanging on the living room wall was

*clearly* visible as soon as the front door was opened. They just didn't seem to want to stick around.

I'm not really sure why.

But I'm not complaining.

Nor am I rude to the JWs. It's neither necessary, nor right.

[JoeSpareBedroom]

They used to catch me when I was outside doing yard work. They'd try the pamphlet trick. I'd point to the trash barrel and ask them to save me having to do it myself. Twice, I got an argument. I told them wasting resources was sinful, only agents of satan would do such a thing, and I dealt harshly with agents of satan on my land. They left quickly. In one case, I had a pitch fork in my hand and they left faster than quickly.

[Doug Miller]

ROTFL!

It's not necessary to be confrontational with them, though. The ones that have come to my door honestly don't seem interested in evangelizing Catholics. I'm guessing that the slight emphasis I lay on the word "Roman" may help in that regard, but I don't really know.

[JoeSpareBedroom]

I don't WANT to get confrontational with people, but when I say "No thanks", it means exactly that. These people wanted to get into a debate. My neighbors, who I was very friendly with, knew that because of my gardening addiction, there was never enough time to get it all done. So, the rule was "Ya wanna talk with me, you gotta walk with me". The JWs weren't worth explaining that to.

I got a similar routine from the cable TV company last week. I have the most basic service for $7.23 per month. 5 local channels plus 4-5 other weird ones they include. I just don't watch TV much.

Salesperson: We've got a special offer this month for digital cable. $XX for the first 3 months. Me: No thanks. I hardly ever watch TV, so I'm not interested. Salesperson: Digital cable has 4 trillion channels including the stamp collecting network blah blah blah... Me: Really, I'm not interested. I'd rather read a book or listen to music or something. Salesperson: Would you be interested in seeing a complete list of all the offerings on digital cable? Me: Ma'am, I told you I'm not interested. Salesperson: We hear that from a lot of customers, but they're often surprised once they actually try it. Me: Señora, no me gusta la televisión. Salesperson: Excuse me? Me: Well, you obviously don't understand English, so I thought I'd try Spanish. Did I say it correctly? Salesperson: {nervous laugh} What did it mean? Me: It meant "I didn't know deaf people could work in telemarketing".

Click

[Mark Lloyd]

I have a little video camera at my front door, making it easy to tell when it'd be better not to open the door, such as with strangers carrying Bibles (or vacuum cleaners).

[Mark Lloyd]

Those shows are related. There's a third relative called Petticoat Junction.

As to doorbells, my grandmother had trouble with telling which door it was for when someone rung the bell, and they had often given up by the time she'd checked all the doors. I fixed that by adding an electronic buzzer I had, across the FRONT solenoid (so it worked only with the front door). The buzzer I had was a pulsating one and required DC, so I added a rectifier and capacitor to it. Now when someone's at the front door, you hear the ding-dong as well as BEEP!! BEEP! BEEP beep bip bp. Easy to know what door to go to.

That house has since been sold twice. I've been in it since then and that thing is still there.

[Mark Lloyd]

I never really understood how they seemed to think that ONE MORE repetition of that nonsense (which did actually remind me of a male bovine) would have a completely different effect.

[snip]

[krw]

Whatever you do, don't tell them that you're a Druid! A friend pulled that one and they never let him alone after. They made it their business to try to save him.