Lloyd Woods' Newsletter

Our Claim to Fame is Our Name's the Same!

Issue No. 12, December 1996

More Connecticut Fun

We had moved into our newly built house in January. Middle son Paul was in the cub scouts and Shirley had been recruited as a den mother. One afternoon, Paul's friend Eric was over playing and it was getting late so Paul said he'd walk him home. Got dark and no kids!

Eric's father called and said they never got there so first we checked the neighborhood to no avail. He called the police (a constable) as it had gotten dark by then and the force looking for the kids grew and grew.

First it was the fire department, then the state police, next a bloodhound was brought in (those dogs are BIG), and lastly, 200 sailors from the sub base joined the search.

The bloodhound led them off down the back road towards Groton. I had been riding around with the auxiliary police to no avail and going back to the house about 11pm decided to call out back again - sure enough Paul responded this time.

They had taken a short cut to Eric's through this underbrush and thickets, got lost and so fell asleep. Fortunately it was one of those warm nights in January but with machetes and all they were returned safe and sound.

It took quite a few hours to round up all the sailors but the TV reported all were accounted for. Next day Paul was a celebrity of course. Me? I got pneumonia and was out of work for a month! But more character was acquired.

Old Girlfriend

Back in the sixties I had to go down to San Diego on occasion to provide engineering support for the bathyscaphe Trieste II. One trip I decided to fly back up to Los Angeles to see an old flame from college named Betsey.

She had long since married and had a couple of kids but picked me up at the airport. Her husband, a civil engineer, arrived promptly after we got back to their place. Had a nice dinner and visit so returned to San Diego that nig- ht. The voluptuous stewardess wanted me to come back to LA with her but I declined as I had to go to work the next day. (These opportunities never happen when you're single.)

On returning home I related to Shirley about the visit with Betsey and her husband. How could I? For that bit of straying I was obliged to sign up for dancing lessons! That lasted until an article in the local paper divulged that the dance studio was a front for a call-girl operation (I was just dancing) so I was promptly excused from going there again.

When we moved back East the price was that I had to stop sending Betsey a Christmas card. Never did tell her about the stewardess.

Back Issues

Our English cousin has put all of the back issues on the Internet (address above in header) for those of you that didn't have the foresight to save these gems.

He's even added a few comments of his own to some issues and forwarded the following puzzler:

What's a Lowly dodo?
(Answer at end - LW)

Book Review

One of the more enjoyable books I read last winter was Old age is another country - a traveller's guide by Page Smith. If you're approaching old age it's a good exposure to comments on just about everything but flatulence. With all the hot air he's dispensed I guess he even took care of that. The book goes on and on and on so I guess I'm ready for life's next phase..

What's That For?

Herb and Bertha were swinging on the swing watching the grass grow. All of a sudden she jabs him in the ribs with her elbow.

"What's that for?" he yelped. "That's for forty years of lousy sex" she replied. They clammed up and went back to swinging.

Wham - he bops her on the check. "Ouch, and what was that for?" she cried. "That's for knowing the difference" he responded.

Life's Rewards

My boss at Electric Boat was pretty knowledgeable for a young guy. His observation was that man wound up in one of three stations in life.

Those that could do the job and knew what they were doing wound up on the bottom of the heap. Those that could write about it wound up in the middle. Those that could talk about it wound up on top.

Certainly was true in Washington where all the hot air and prolific pens expound. It does seem a shame that our most important product is talk. Endless talk.

Novel Hobby

A chap up in Ellicott City and his wife collect steam whistles and air horns and they have steam and air generators so they can blow them too. He has all sizes from big steamship and locomotive whistles to little tweeters all rigged up like an organ on a trailer.

It was quite a treat to hear some of them down at the B&O Museum in Baltimore. Sure brought back memories of an earlier era.

Incidentally, he lives across the street from the county library! Instead of a eulogy I'd like to have him play at my funeral.

Still Single

Seems Lord Stuffyshire was visiting this country and in the course of a conversation somebody asked him if he were married. No, he allowed, he didn't see the need for a wife and all those responsibilities. Didn't he like sex, someone asked.

His response was "I tried it once, but I found that:

Why Don't They ... ?

Make a Christmas tree holder that rotates so that when you string the lights on you don't have to keep going over the top to get to the other side?

In fact, if they could put a slip connection on so the cord to the wall plug didn't get all twisted up we wouldn't have to worry about putting the bad side to the wall. Just motorize it and let it rotate and amuse the kids and all.

Tax Savers

You all know enough to have the baby on the end of the year but I never hear of it touted as a day to get married.

Guess one should figure ahead to see if a joint return is cheaper than two separate ones. At any rate, following the old adage of "when the frost is on the pumpkin, that's the time for dickey dunkin" is probably pretty good tax counselling!

Same thing is true when you die. With a little planning here one can let their spouse claim them on the return for a whole extra year if you just wait until New Year's Day to do your deceasing. Speaking of these morbid thoughts, I wonder how long it will be before Hillary realizes that by rationing medicare and having us die sooner Uncle Sam can reduce his Social Security payments as well and solve the "me" generations pension needs. Great way to stay in office!


From obituaries in the Lexington (KY) Herald-Leader via Internet:
"IRVINE -- Lloyd Arthur Wood, 83, 410 Park Avenue, retired Fri- gidaire Corp employee in Da- yton, Ohio, widower of Florence Chaney Kash Wood, died Friday." (June 7, 1996)

Happy Holidays

Nuff of all these raunchy jokes . A very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all. Aren't you glad the elections are over? Don't worry, we'll make it.
Lloyd Wood is a Lowly dodo

A newsletter to all Lloyd Woods, by Lloyd William Wood, or LWW.
HTML web version and additional comments by Lloyd Wood (L.Wood@surrey.ac.uk), or LW.