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Tponetom
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Username: Tponetom

Post Number: 173
Registered: 06-2007
Posted on Sunday, December 02, 2007 - 6:49 pm:   Edit PostDelete Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Ravine;
Part One.
Re: Your post #1649.
I will answer your question about ‘drinking.’
Yes, I usually have two scotch and water between the hours of 4 to 6. Peggy is limited to one because two makes her goofy and at our age, neither one of us needs that imperative.
I never drank in the style or manner that my glorious ancestors would approve of.
My (paternal) Great-Grandfather, Francis Aloysius O. emigrated from Ireland in 1855, landed in Philadelphia and three days later, joined the Union Army for a 5 year hitch which he fulfilled. He wound up in Detroit and married a French girl named Sophie Hubert in The First French Baptist Church in Detroit in 1865.
He died in 1879 at the age of 44 leaving his wife and five children including my Grandfather, Thomas Eli O. Like any good Irishman, Great-Grandpa died of Cirrhosis of the Liver.
Grandpa Thomas Eli married Theresa Schumacher (of the Minden City, Michigan Schumachers )and they begot my Father, Vincent T. O.
Grandpa Thomas Eli got a Class C liquor license in 1934 and he opened his bar/saloon/tavern/beer garden (?), on the corner of and Kercheval and Belvidere.
Grandpa called it O.s Café.
We were living with my grandparents on Bradley street at that time and I can remember Grandpa coming home every night around 9 o’clock. His walk was a bit unsteady, he would grumble to himself and he had a glassy eyed stare. Later I would learn the bar owner usually drank with his patrons.
Grandpa O. died at the age of 68. Hardening of the arteries was the official cause. His liver might have been bad, also.
Then, my dad, Vincent T. Married Eleanor Heimiller.
Now you can see where I am going with this ‘Irish’ thing.
Grandpa Heimiller was pure Prussian German.
Grandma Heimiller came from Alsace-Lorraine. Half German, half French.
So: Great Grandpa was full Irish’
Grandpa Thomas Eli was ½ Irish and ½ French.
Father Vincent was 1/4 Irish 1/4 French and ½ German
Mother Eleanor was 3/4 German and 1/4 French
That would make me 1/8 Irish 1/4 French and 5/8 German.
Now. If you add up all that nonsense and divide by two and find the square root of the answer you should arrive at the correct answer, which is:
On St. Patrick’s Day there are only two nationalities: IRISH, and those who pretend to be.

This is Part One because I got detoured off the track of what I was gong to write. It was written some time ago but I have to edit it..
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Jams
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Username: Jams

Post Number: 7131
Registered: 10-2003
Posted on Sunday, December 02, 2007 - 7:00 pm:   Edit PostDelete Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Sorry for peeping in, but that was one h*ll of a laugh you gave me.

Thank you again, keep them coming!
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Tponetom
Member
Username: Tponetom

Post Number: 174
Registered: 06-2007
Posted on Sunday, December 02, 2007 - 10:19 pm:   Edit PostDelete Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

My favorite topic for 64 years has always been my Peggy. To wit:
Raven: In reference to your post # 1649.

Be it male or female, young or old, gay or straight, black or white or red or yellow, I caution you to be careful of who you associate with. You just never know.
Peggy and I were married in 1949.
The following is one of the many works of fiction and also fidelity that I have written to my wife through the years on certain holidays, anniversaries and oft times, just for the fun of it!
For example:
In 1954, we were walking down Woodward Avenue, window shopping. The sidewalks were crowded. We sauntered along, pacing with the woman ahead of us. Of a sudden, the woman took out her handkerchief, brushed her nose with it, and then tried to put it back into her pocket but a gust of wind blew it out of her hand and I caught it. I tapped the lady on the shoulder and returned it to her. She smiled and said, “Thank You.”
Then, in a complete departure from her normal, self effacing persona, Peggy spoke up and said, “Listen lady, if you want to try to pick up my husband, be warned that I won’t let you off the next time.”
I was baffled! Later, when I tried to talk to her about the incident, she just said, “Never Mind.”
A few months later, we were dining in a restaurant. A woman, sitting at a table adjacent to ours, seemed to be in distress. She appeared to have something in her eye. Her eye appeared to be bloodshot and she was dabbing at it with her hankie. Her eyelid was blinking rapidly. Tears were falling from the irritation. At that point, Peggy stood up and took a full glass of water and dumped it over the head of the woman. She then said, “Maybe that will cool your ‘hots’ for my husband!’
Leaving the restaurant, I asked her why she did what she did. She replied , “I seen her winking at you all the time, trying to catch your attention. Hmmm, I said.
The culmination to these events took place a little later. It was near Christmas time. We were grocery shopping at the local super market. Upon leaving, we passed the ubiquitous Salvation Army Volunteer, ringing her bell. She was the grandmother type wearing her cape and hood. Peggy walked up to her and popped her in the nose. I was aghast! I asked her why she did that. She said the woman was ringing the bell to get my attention.
So was the Detroit cop who happened to be watching. He promptly arrested Peggy and took us both down to the nearest precinct. She was arraigned on charges of Assault with intent to cause bodily harm. She was released on her own cognizance and a trial date was set.
Two weeks later we were in court for her trial.
The judge listened to the pro and con. It seemed to be an open and shut case. Peggy hit an innocent person without justifiable cause. The judge was about to make his decision.
He looked over at Peggy. He asked her, “Who is that man standing next to you?”
She replied, “That is my attorney!”
The Judge said, “No, the man on the other side of you.”
She said, “He is my husband.”
The Judge said, “Are you serious?” Then he looked at me and asked, “Are you married to the defendant?
I replied, “Yes, your honor.”
The Judge was perplexed. He asked Peggy again, “Is that your husband?”
Again, she said , “Yes, he is my husband.”
The Judge looked at me and said, “Perjury is a very serious crime, so I will ask you one more time, are you married to the defendant?”
I said, “Yes, your Honor, I am married to her.”
With that, the Judge called for a ten minute recess. He just sat there for the whole ten minutes.
Then he rapped his gavel against the sound block and called the court to order.
He said, “I have reached my decision. I find the defendant, Peggy O., not guilty of all the charges brought against her, because of mental defect. Anyone who would marry a man like her husband must have a screw loose. Case dismissed!”

My notes: Of course that is a silly story and yet there are some elements of truth. I will relate that posture in a true scenario.
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Ravine
Member
Username: Ravine

Post Number: 1650
Registered: 01-2006
Posted on Monday, December 03, 2007 - 9:38 am:   Edit PostDelete Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Och, aye, no wonder that we get along; sure'n we be havin' some things in common, for good 'r ill. jmike92156@msn.com
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Ray1936
Member
Username: Ray1936

Post Number: 2345
Registered: 01-2005
Posted on Monday, December 03, 2007 - 1:19 pm:   Edit PostDelete Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Tp, you're a gem!
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Johnlodge
Member
Username: Johnlodge

Post Number: 3952
Registered: 10-2003
Posted on Monday, December 03, 2007 - 1:30 pm:   Edit PostDelete Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Loved it.

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