Yesterday morning I drove through the drive through, ordered a Senior Decaf and an Egg McMuffin. When I got to the window I was handed my Decaf and told to please pull ahead to the end of the rail, my order would soon be out. I was just beginning to think that their “soon” wasn’t very, when an apologetic young man was handing me my order.
“I’m sorry about the wait, I hope you enjoy your meal.”
As I was moving the food sack across my lap, I thought they must of put a “Were sorry it took so long!” bonus in too, because the sack felt a little too heavy. Since I’d had to pull ahead, I was in no position to park in their lot to eat my breakfast so, I drove to Dillon’s Grocers and parked in their lot. When I opened my food sack, I found it contained (2) Sausage Burritos, (2) Potato Patties and a Morning Mac Sandwich. As I was “enjoying my meal“, I got to thinking, “I certainly hope the poor sucker that got my Egg McMuffin didn’t drive off before he checked his food sack, and if he made them correct the error, I hope McDonalds survives financially!”
Or, maybe it wasn’t an error at all, yesterday was my birthday, “Thanks McDonald‘s, I really wasn’t expecting anything1”

I’ll probably need your help for this one!
Its becoming more and more difficult for me to appear more intelligent than my age!
I’d like to build an Immediate Results Machine, with minimal programming requirements. When I feed this machine a golf ball, Tiger Woods steps out and shares a few words about self discipline. When I feed it a basketball, I will be facing Michael Jordon (eyeball to belt buckle) gathering ideas about the importance of teamwork. When I drive my LaSabre into the mouth of this Immediate Results Machine it will spit it back out, entirely freed from its irritating habit of gasoline consumption.
I’d like to build the first prototype in the Gamma Level, giving it the ability to think for itself and continuously collect and store new data. As the Immediate Results Machine experiences relativity by fetching a person or object to match its food intake, it establishes its own processing program. Remembering everything, it will soon have the ability to analyze what it eats and how that food relates to the immediate result expected.
Within a very short period of time, I expect the Immediate Results Machine to become much smarter than I am, or ever hope to be. Feed the Immediate Results Machine a ping pong ball at that juncture and you will probably be introduced to Linghui Kong, no programming required!
If we work together on this, you should soon be able to take the Immediate Results Machine home for three days and two nights with a Dillon’s Plus card. When you do, you will want to plan your agenda very carefully and be prepared in advance for an “all new” educational experience.
As the Immediate Results Machine’s intelligence escalates, it will be capable of returning multiple people or objects or both, then what will we want to feed it?

(Written for the children in our lives.)
Bulging muscles rippled the magnificent hide of this super-powerful watchdog, like a tidal wave in ecstasy. Whenever Ned’s front gate rattled, Midnight’s speed broke the sound barrier. In a miniflash he was on guard duty, growling fiercely just inside the gate! In spite of all this treacherous beauty, Mr. Helvor expected the Austin Daily Gazette to be delivered to his front door daily.
Good morning Toni, my name is Melony, please add Mr. Helvor, 6486 West Ash, to your newspaper route. He’s expecting his first Gazette at his front door on Monday.”
“No! No! No! Oh no! What did I do to deserve this kind of a blessing? He never even offered a plump little bonus for this extra service,” thought Toni as he kept mumbling to himself.
“Ned Helvor‘s home is protected by a high, unfriendly fence with sharp, ragged barbs on top. It stands poised for action on intruders and/or attempted escapees. Ned’s big black dog, Midnight makes one’s skin crawl and forces the hair on the back of the neck to stand straight out!
Midnight claims the well worn path snaking around and throughout the massive estate. No matter where Midnight is on patrol, he can be on guard in a nanosecond. His upper lip curls back exposing two rows of business teeth. This leaves no questions unanswered in the mind of a passerby, unwritten rules and bylaws have been well established.”
“Good morning Toni! Please add Mr. Helvor!”
Toni ripped Monday’s Daily Gazette out of his saddle bag, flipped it into a straight arm heave energized by a full blown bicep. The daily news had been sent in search of Helvor’s front door, airborne. Even with that swift pitch, Toni wasn’t sure it would reach the door before the news got old. Still sailing forwards, it looked doubtful, but Toni was hoping for at least a sidewalk landing. Since Toni hadn’t braked to a complete stop, the aim was slightly off and the newspaper was headed towards the bushes. “Oh no, now what?” Toni was shocked back to reality when he noticed Midnight in hot pursuit of the air mail. Toni quickly shifted his body weight onto his right foot peddle, clicked his head back into the straight forward notch and manipulated a sudden peddlescape. Toni had no desire to witness Midnight editing articles for redistribution! He could almost picture Mr. Helvor trying to puzzle together sagging shreds of information with Midnight standing cockeyed beside him.
On Tuesday, Toni’s throw hit the porch steps and again Midnight went for the paper with the speed of a screaming bullet. And again Toni hustled to escape the scene without witnessing any messy end results!
Wednesday’s paper plopped against the top of Mr. Helvor’s front gate and just barely made it over the forbidden entry. This time Midnight already had the paper in his mouth before Toni could snap his head back into the getaway notch. Toni‘s “Get thyself out of here, NOW” seemed to move at a snail’s pace!
On Thursday there was another friendly note attached to Toni’s pickup bundle.
“Hi, this is Melony again. Mr. Helvor wants you to come to his door tomorrow. He would like to talk to you.”
“Come to his door tomorrow? Tomorrow’s my birthday, I mean ---- never mind, this is insane! Old Ned has had three days of chewed up bits of news to fuel his rage. By now, his brain is steamed, shredded and warped, his thinking mutilated. This must surely be the day for revenge! What a birthday gift! Why I’ll bet Old Ned plans to let Midnight exercise his business teeth and then sit back relaxed. “You can keep achewin’ longer if you want Midnight!”
“I simply cannot go through that gate, no way!”
That evening, when Toni got home, he dismounted his bike on the fly, he didn’t even look back to see where the bike would crash land.
As the evening progressed, things just kept going from bad to worse. Toni’s dad backed over Toni’s bicycle rendering it useless. The spinning wheels wobbled fiercely and the frame resembled some kind of a carnival ride. Toni would have to walk his paper route on his birthday, without any peddlescape options.
“There must be a way to get Mr. Helvor’s attention without opening that front gate? Clevering my way past Midnight makes my forehead sweat and my hair twizzle!”
“Hey, I’ve got it! Just smack Ned’s front door with his newspaper. I’ll simply knock, long distance!”
Toni spent the rest of the evening practicing. He spray painted Mr. Helvor’s front door on their giant oak and calmly littered Austin Gazettes all over the yard.
“What a miracle, Midnight isn’t at the gate. Woah, wait, there’s not one shred of newspaper remains in Helvor’s yard. Nothing in the grass, none on the sidewalk, not a sign of anything amiss or out of order. Every single stitch of yard looks immaculately groomed.”
“Oh, oh,” Thought Toni, “Old Ned’s been very busy! Why, he’ll be angry as a knotted serpent?”
Toni’s first paper delivery hit the trunk of a tree. Luckily he had packed extra Gazettes. His second attempt at this long distance knock was just sailing through the air when Mr. Helvor opened his door and stepped directly into the flight pattern. It looked like -----yes bingo, sure enough, that rolled up newspaper was on a firm collision course with a none-suspecting --------
“Well, hello Toni”
Then like a streak of buttered lightning, Midnight’s black presence shot past Mr. Helvor and jawed the flying gazette which was destined to smack Old Ned right in the headache container.
Toni watched in awe!
“Toni, please step inside the gate,” said Mr. Helvor straight faced.
Tony hesitated. “How about Midnight, will he be ok?”
“Oh yes, he’ll enjoy that, he just needs lots of exercise.” With that, Mr. Helvor stepped back inside.
“Oh no you don’t,” thought Toni to himself. Since childhood, Toni had been taught to show respect to an adult and here was one now.
“I’ll open the gate and go only half-in. When Midnight gets anxious to grind me into mince meat, I can beat him back to safety.” Toni approached the gate, lifted the latch and cautiously stepped inside, his eyes stayed riveted on Midnight!
Just then Mr. Helvor appeared again, wheeling a gleaming, shiny new bicycle. “Heel Midnight,” and Midnight moved obediently with spirited step. “This is for you son, At ease Midnight,” said Ned as he brought the bike closer to Toni. “I really appreciate finding my paper neatly rolled, banded and lying directly outside my front door daily. I simply want to say thank you Toni, for a job well done!” Toni’s entire being came to an abrupt halt and his heart skipped a whole row of beats. Midnight was standing smack in front of him with his business teeth wrapped around an Austin Daily Gazette. Midnight had deposited the airborne delivery to the front door and was returning the extra newspaper.
“But, but Mr. Helvor I, I _________________________________” Toni stammered as he extended his hand to retrieve the paper from Midnight‘s smiling mouth. Mr. Helvor handed Toni his new bike, “Happy birthday Toni!”
Speechless, Toni accepted is birthday gift, his own thinking now very confused and completely shredded.
As he wheeled the new bike to the walk outside the gate, Midnight escorted him, his active tail stirring up a friendly, gentle breeze.
Outside the gate, Midnight sat down facing Toni, then raised a right front paw for a sociable, parting shake. Toni kneeled down to look straight into Midnight‘s soft brown eyes. With one hand securely clinched onto his new bike, he still managed to shake Midnight’s paw. Then Midnight walked back inside the gate, raised himself up on his hind feet, lifted the latch with his nose, swung the gate closed with his front foot and dropped the latch. A grand performance accomplished with such graceful coordination Toni knew that Midnight had opened and closed that gate a hundred thousand times and could do it again, anytime he wanted. Then Midnight trotted back to Old Ned, sat down facing Toni and once again raised his right paw in a friendly, farewell salute.

While wieners aren’t one of my favorite foods, I seldom refuse an invitation to a wiener roast. A child offers to do the wiener for me. “Wow, how did I acquire so much respect?”
“How do you want it done?” I quickly realize that medium rare doesn’t fit. “Juicily browned all the way around,” I reply decisively.
Shortly, this youngster presents me with a totally scorched dog., split open on one side and generously sautéed in ashes, ready for me to enjoy to its fullest! “Perfect, that’s exactly the way I wanted it, thank you so much!”
By now everyone, including myself is wearing a grin, you see, ashes is not a popular food choice in our area. After I wipe the wiener with a napkin, fill the crack with ketchup, squirt mustard on top and sprinkle its full length with relish, I happily affirm the taste quality to any witness still showing interest.
You and I both know that wasn’t a perfectly roasted wiener. The child’s kind offer radiated so brightly over the quality of the results, I was ready and willing to deal with the situation with a free spirit.
Just give me one or two yesterdays and I won’t even remember what that wiener tasted like, but I won’t soon forget the child who offered to fix it for me.
Wouldn’t we be much more comfortable if we squeezed the magical wisdom of a wiener roast into our busy schedules? When life hands us a split , scorched hot dog, smothered in ashes, can’t we wipe it with the napkin of hope, fill the cracks with the ketchup of love and squirt the mustard of forgiveness all over the top, then give it a generous sprinkling of the relish of friendship? Now, engage the free spirit and see how much more enjoyable it is to search for the quality of life!

The Fourth of July is blowing holes in the sky,
Then gently floating away in the breeze.
We hope everyone’s alert, so no one gets hurt,
And the heavens won’t look like Swiss Cheese!