Subj:     Cute Stories
                 (Includes 17 jokes and articles, 22859,1,cf,md4v,1)

          Click "Here" for Stories-Supp

Story Book from
Animation Factory
Includes the following:  LUNCH And Then It Was Winter (S859 in Supp)
.........................With A Piece Of Chalk... - Video (S813 in Supp)
.........................Carrots, Eggs And Coffee (S670 in Supp)
.........................Steve Gibbs "When We Were Kids" (S806 in Supp)
.........................The Window From Which We Look (S796 in Supp)
.........................The Human Voice - Video (S720 in Supp)
.........................Perspective... (S599 in Supp)
.........................Karma - Video (S617b in Supp)
.........................Walking And Left Turns (S564 in Supp)
.........................What Goes Around Comes Around (S525 in Supp)
.........................Jenny's Pearls (S521b in Supp)
.........................The Famous Paper Clips (S507 in Supp)
.........................The Boy Who Wouldn't Die (S505 in Supp)
.........................The Kite (S499 in Supp)
.........................Little Girl Lost At Concert (S488c in Supp)
.........................Two Men Share A Hospital Room (S477c, S677)
.........................Reopening The Brooklyn Church (S447)
.........................Little Girl Buys A Miracle (S431b)
.........................The Wooden Bowl (S307)
.........................Cab Driver And The 80 Year Old Lady (S284, S618)
.........................America: The Good Neighbor (S169)
.........................Two Great Stories (S168, S422)
.........................Soldier's True Friendship
.........................The Story Of Taps (S119, S661)
.........................25 Hottest Urban Legends (S827)
.........................The Ultimate Urban Legend
.........................Urban Legend Soapbox Video (S306b)
.........................Email-Forwarders' 12 Step Program  (S264c)
.........................Did You Do Anything Today?
.........................Tired Carpenter Gets Ride Home (S620b)
.........................Short Cute Stories
..............................Book-A-Minute-SF/F (S383)

Also see ANIMALS-OTHER- 'Hamsters Named Bert And Ernie'
         ARTIST file  - 'Man And His Son Collected Art'
         BLACK1 file  - 'Eyes On The Stars By StoryCorps' - Video
         BANKING-SUPP - 'The Moneylender'
         BIRDS file   - 'A Man And An Eagle, A Love Story'
         BODY PARTS   - 'Boy Cries Over Freckles'
         CARS2 file   - 'Granny Stops Car Thieves'
         CHRISTMAS1   - 'Lovable Louise'
         CHRISTMAS4   - 'Buying The Christmas Tree'
         JOBS-SUPP    - 'Picking A New CEO'
         JOB-STUFF-SUP- 'The Brewery'
         KIDS5 file   - 'It's Not Contagious, I Swear...'
         MOVIES-ETC   - 'The Man Who Had No Face'
         MOVIES-ETC-S2- 'A Stranger Moved In Our Home'
         MOVIES-SUPP  - 'La Linea - Interactive' - Video (in yyPictures)
         OTHER-SPORTS - 'Kickball: Where The XX Rules'
         RAT-MICE     - 'Mouse Story'
         SCOTTISH file- 'Scottish Farmer Saves A Boy'
         SUPERHEROES  - 'Boy Becomes Superman'

Subj:     Two Men Share A Hospital Room (S477c, S677)
          From: Joke-Of-The-Day-Mail.com on 3/8/2006
      and From: lubin100 on 1/4/2010

 Two men, both very ill, were in the same hospital room. One
 man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each day to
 help stretch his body.  His bed was next to the room's only
 window.  The other man had to spend all his time flat on his
 back.  The men talked for hours on end.  They spoke of their
 wives and families, their homes, their jobs, vacations, and
 about what life meant.

 And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window
 could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his
 roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
 The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour
 periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by
 all the activity and color of the world outside.

 The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.  Ducks and
 swans played on the water while children sailed their model
 boats.  Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of
 every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the land-
 scape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in
 the distance. As the man by the window described all this in
 exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would
 close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

 One morning, the day nurse arrived only to find the lifeless
 body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his
 sleep.  A few days later, the other man asked if he could be
 moved next to the window.  The nurse was happy to make the
 switch. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow
 to take his first look at the world outside.  Finally, he
 would have the joy of seeing it for himself.

 He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the
 bed.  It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what
 could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described
 such wonderful things outside this window.  The nurse
 responded that the man was blind and could not even see the

 She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

Subj:     Reopening The Brooklyn Church (S447)
          From: Joke-Of-The-Day-Mail.com on 8/8/2005

 The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their
 first ministry to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn,
 arrived in early October excited about their opportunities.
 When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed
 much work.  They set a goal to have everything done in time
 to have their first service on Christmas Eve.

 They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting,
 etc., and on December 18, were ahead of schedule and just
 about finished.  On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving
 rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.  On the 21st,
 the pastor went over to the church.

 His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing
 a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off
 the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit.  The
 pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what
 else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home.
 On the way, he noticed that a local business was having a flea
 market-type sale for charity, so he stopped in.  One of the
 items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory-colored, crocheted
 tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors, and a Cross
 embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size
 to cover up the hole in the front wall.  He bought it and
 headed back to the church.

 By this time, it had started to snow. An older woman, running
 from the opposite direction, was trying to catch the bus.  She
 missed it.  The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church
 for the next bus 45 minutes later.  She sat in a pew and paid
 no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc.,
 to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.  The pastor could
 hardly believe how beautiful it looked, and it covered up the
 entire problem area.

 Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle.  Her
 face was as white as a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "Where did
 you get that tablecloth?"  The pastor explained.  The woman
 asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials,
 EBG were crocheted into it there.  They were.  These were the
 initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years
 before in Austria.

 The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told her how he
 had just gotten the tablecloth.  The woman explained that before
 the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria.
 When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was
 going to follow her the next week.  He was captured and sent to
 prison.  She never saw her husband or her home again. The pastor
 wanted to give her the tablecloth, but she made the pastor keep
 it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home, that
 was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten
 Island and had been in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

 What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve.  The church
 was almost full.  The music and the spirit were great.  At the
 end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at
 the door, and many said that they would return.  One older man,
 whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to
 sit in one of the pews and stare... the pastor wondered why he
 wasn't leaving.

 The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall,
 because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago
 when they lived in Austria before the war.  And how could there
 be two tablecloths so much alike?  He told the pastor how the
 Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and
 how he was supposed to follow her, but was arrested and put in
 a prison.  He never saw his wife or his home again.

 Rex Barker C.S. saying that what followed was the greatest
 Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

Subj:     Little Girl Buys A Miracle (S431b)
          From: RFSlick on 5/2/2005

 A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly
 jar from its hiding place in the closet.  She poured the
 change out on the floor and counted it carefully.  Three
 times, even.  The total had to be exactly perfect.  No chance
 here for mistakes.

 Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on
 the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6
 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief
 sign above the door.

 She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some
 attention but he was too busy at this moment.  Tess twisted
 her feet to make a scffing noise.  Nothing.  She cleared
 her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster.
 No good.  Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged
 it on the glass counter.  That did it!

 "And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed
 tone of voice.  I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom
 I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply
 to his question.

 "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered
 back in the same annoyed tone.  "He's really, really sick...
 and I want to buy a miracle."

 "I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.

 "His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside
 his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now.
 So how much does a miracle cost?"

 "We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I
 can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little.

 "Listen, I have the money to pay for it.  If it isn't enough,
 I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."

 The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man.  He stooped
 down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does
 your brother need?"

 "I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up.  I
 just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an
 operation.  But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to
 use my money."

 "How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.

 "One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly.

 "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if
 I need to."

 "Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and
 eleven cents---the exact price of a miracle for little
 brothers. "

 He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he
 grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live.
 I want to see your brother and meet your parents.  Let's
 see if I have the miracle you need."

 That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon,
 specializing in neuro-surgery.  The operation was completed
 free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home
 again and doing well.

 Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events
 that had led them to this place.  "That surgery," her Mom
 whispered. "was a real miracle.  I wonder how much it would
 have cost?"

 Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one
 dollar and eleven cents.  Plus the faith of a little child.

Subj:     The Wooden Bowl (S307)
          From: auntiegah on 12/17/2002

 My dear friends,
 This story touched my heart.

 A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law,
 and four-year old grandson.  The old man's hands trembled,
 his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.

 The family ate together at the table.  But the elderly
 grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating
 difficult.  Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor.  When
 he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.  The
 son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess.  "We
 must do something about Grandfather," said the son.  I've
 had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on
 the floor.

 So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.
 There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family
 enjoyed dinner.  Since Grandfather had broken a dish or
 two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.  When the
 family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometime he had
 a tear in his eye as he sat alone.  Still, the only words
 the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he
 dropped a fork or spilled food.

 The four-year-old watched it all in silence.  One evening
 before supper, the father noticed his son playing with
 wood scraps on the floor.  He asked the child sweetly,
 "What are you making?"  Just as sweetly, the boy responded,
 "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your
 food in when I grow up."  The four-year-old smiled and went
 back to work.

 The words so struck the parents that they were speechless.
 Then tears started to stream down their cheeks.  Though no
 word was spoken, both knew what must be done.

 That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently
 and lovingly led him back to the family table.  For the
 remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family.
 And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to
 mind when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the table-
 cloth soiled.

Subj:     Cab Driver And The 80 Year Old Lady (S284, S618)
          From: mombear1 on 7/8/2002
      and From: darrellvip on 11/13/2008

          THE CAB RIDE

 Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.  When I arrived
 at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light
 in a ground floor window.  Under these circumstances, many
 drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then
 drive away.

 I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis
 as their only means of transportation.  Unless a situation
 smelled of danger, I always went to the door.  This passenger
 might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

 So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered
 a frail, elderly voice.  I could hear something being dragged
 across the floor.

 After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's
 stood before me.  She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox
 hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s

 By her side was a small nylon suitcase.  The apartment looked
 as if no one had lived in it for years.  All the furniture
 was covered with sheets.  There were no clocks on the walls,
 no knickknacks or utensils on the counters.  In the corner
 was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

 "Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.  I took
 the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

 She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.  She
 kept thanking me for my kindness.

 "It's nothing", I told her.  "I just try to treat my
 passengers the way I would want my mother treated".

 "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

 When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked,
 "Could you drive through downtown?"

 "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

 "Oh, I don't mind," she said.  "I'm in no hurry.  I'm on
 my way to a hospice".  I looked in the rearview mirror.
 Her eyes were glistening.  "I don't have any family left,"
 she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

 I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.  "What
 route would you like me to take?" I asked.

 For the next two hours, we drove through the city.  She
 showed me the building where she had once worked as an
 elevator operator.  We drove through the neighborhood
 where she and her husband had lived when they were
 newlyweds.  She had me pull up in front of a furniture
 warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had
 gone dancing as a girl.

 Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular
 building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness,
 saying nothing.

 As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she
 suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

 We drove in silence to the address she had given me.  It
 was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with
 a driveway that passed under a portico.

 Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.
 They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
 They must have been expecting her.

 I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door.
 The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

 "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

 "Nothing," I said.

 "You have to make a living," she answered.

 "There are other passengers," I responded.  Almost without
 thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.  She held onto me

 "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said.
 "Thank you."

 I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.
 Behind me, a door shut.  It was the sound of the closing of
 a life.

 I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove
 aimlessly, lost in thought.  For the rest of that day, I
 could hardly talk.

 What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who
 was impatient to end his shift?  What if I had refused to
 take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

 On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything
 more important in my life.  We're conditioned to think that
 our lives revolve around great moments.  But great moments
 often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped in what others
 may consider a small one.

 ~BUT ~

 In Sunday Morning Laughs, I always have ten to fifteen
 quotes.  On several occasions the teachers at Benicia
 High have discussed this quotation.  We all believe this
 this is the single most important quote I have ever sent
 out.  Tom A. includes it at the bottom of every letter
 he writes

Subj:     America: The Good Neighbor (S169)
          From: icohen on 4/19/00

 Widespread but only partial news coverage was given recently
 to a remarkable editorial broadcast from Toronto by Gordon
 Sinclair, Canadian television commentator.  What follows is
 the full text of his trenchant remarks as printed in the
 Congressional Record:

 "This Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans
 as the most generous and possibly the least appreciated people
 on all the earth.

 Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy were
 lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in
 billions of dollars and forgave other billions in debts.  None
 of these countries is today paying even the interest on its
 remaining debts to the United States.

 When the franc was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the
 Americans who propped it up, and their reward was to be insulted
 and swindled on the streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it.

 When earthquakes hit distant cities, it is the United States
 that hurries in to help.  This spring, 59 American communities
 were flattened by tornadoes.  Nobody helped.

 The Marshall Plan and the Truman Policy pumped billions of
 dollars into discouraged countries.  Now newspapers in those
 countries are writing about the decadent, warmongering Americans.

 I'd like to see just one of those countries that is gloating over
 the erosion of the United States dollar build its own airplane.
 Does any other country in the world have a plane to equal the
 Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tri-Star, or the Douglas DC-10?
 If so, why don't they fly them?  Why do all the International
 lines except Russia fly American Planes?

 Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or
 woman on the moon?  You talk about Japanese technocracy, and you
 get radios.  You talk about German technocracy, and you get
 automobiles.  You talk about American technocracy, and you find
 men on the moon - not once, but several times - and safely home

 You talk about scandals, and the Americans put theirs right in
 the store window for everybody to look at.  Even their draft-
 dodgers are not pursued and hounded.  They are here on our
 streets, and most of them, unless they are breaking Canadian
 laws, are getting American dollars from ma and pa at home to
 spend here.

 When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking
 down through age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them.
 When the Pennsylvania Railroad  and the New York Central went
 broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both are still broke.

 I can name you 5000 times when the Americans raced to the help
 of other people in trouble.  Can you name me even one time when
 someone else raced to the Americans in trouble?  I don't think
 there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake.

 Our neighbors have faced it alone, and I'm one Canadian who is
 damned tired of hearing them get kicked around.

 They will come out of this thing with their flag high. And when
 they do, they are entitled to thumb their nose at the lands that
 are gloating over their present troubles.

 I hope Canada is not one of those."

 Stand proud, Americans

 This is one of the best editorials that I have ever read regarding
 the United States.  It is nice that one man realizes it, I only
 wish that the rest of the world would realize it.  We are always
 blamed for everything, and never even get a thank you for the
 things we do.

 I would hope that each of you would send this to as many people as
 you can and emphasize that they should send it to as many of their
 friends until this letter is sent to every person on the web. I am
 just a single American that has  read this, I  SURE  HOPE  THAT  A

 Ira Cohen
 Telecommunications Engineer
 City of Oakland, CA

 (510) 238-2187 office
 (510) 220-0027 cell
 (510) 238-2281 fax

Subj:     Two Great Stories (S168, S422)
          From: JCary on 4/20/00
Drawing from tom on 8/21/09
......Story Number One:

 World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant
 Commander Butch O'Hare.  He was a fighter pilot assigned to the
 aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.

 One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission.  After he
 was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that
 someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.  He would not
 have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his
 ship.  As he was returning to the mother ship he saw something
 that turned his blood cold, a squadron of Japanese aircraft
 were speeding their way toward the defenseless American fleet.
 He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time,
 nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.

 Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the
 formation of Japanese planes.  Wing-mounted 50 calibers blazed
 as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane after
 another. Even after his ammunition was finally spent, he
 continued to dive at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail
 in hopes of damaging as many as possible.

 Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another
 direction.  Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered
 fighter limped back to the carrier.  Upon arrival he reported
 in and related the events surrounding his return.  The film
 from the gun-camera mounted on his plane showed the extent of
 Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.  He had in fact
 destroyed five enemy aircraft.

 The date was February 20, 1942, and for his brave actions
 Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first
 Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor.  A
 year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of
 29.  His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II
 hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named
 in tribute to the courage of this great man.

......Story Number Two:

 Some years earlier there was a man in Chicago called Easy
 Eddie.  At that time, Al Capone virtually owned the city.
 He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything
 from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.  Capone's
 lawyer was nicknamed "Easy Eddie."

 Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail
 for a long time. To show his appreciation, Capone paid him
 very well. Besides a large salary, he and his family occupied
 an estate so large that it filled an entire block.  Eddie
 lived the high life and gave little consideration to the
 atrocities that were going on around him.

 Eddie did have one soft spot... a son that he loved dearly.
 He saw to it that his young son had the best of everything.
 And, despite his involvement with organized crime, he even
 tried to teach him right from wrong.  Even with all his
 wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't
 give his son... a good name and a good example.

 One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision.  He decided
 to tell the truth about Capone, clean up his tarnished name
 and offer his son some semblance of integrity.  To do this,
 he would have to testify against the Mob, and the cost would
 be great.  Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze
 of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street.

 He had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer... and
 paid the ultimate price.  Police removed from his pockets
 several items including a religious medallion and a poem
 clipped from a magazine that read "The clock of life is wound
 but once and no man has the power to tell just when the hands
 will stop. Now is the only time you own. Live, love, toil
 with a will.  Place no faith in time. For the clock may soon
 be still."

 I know what you're thinking.  What do these two stories
 have to do with one another?

 Well you see, Butch O'Hare was Easy Eddie's son.

Subj:     Soldier's True Friendship
          From: octagon999 on 7/5/99

 Horror gripped the heart of the World War I soldier as
 he saw his lifelong friend fall in battle.  Caught in a
 trench with continuous gunfire whizzing over his head,
 the soldier asked his lieutenant if he might go out into
 the "No Man's Land" between the trenches to bring his
 fallen comrade back.

 "You can go," said the lieutenant, "but I don't think it
 will be worth it.  Your friend is probably dead and you
 may throw your own life away."

 The lieutenant's words didn't matter, and the soldier went
 anyway.  Miraculously he managed to reach his friend, hoist
 him onto hisshoulder, and bring him back to their company's

 As the two of them tumbled in together to the bottom of the
 trench, the officer checked the wounded soldier, then looked
 kindly at his friend.  "I told you it wouldn't be worth it,"
 he said. "Your friend is dead, and you are mortally wounded."

 "It was worth it, though, Sir," the soldier said.

 "How do you mean, 'worth it?'" responded the Lieutenant.
 "Your friend is dead!"

 "Yes, Sir," the private answered. "But it was worth it
 because when I got to him, he was still alive, and I had
 the satisfaction of hearing him say, 'Jim, I knew you'd
 ~ Author Unknown ~

Subj:     The Story Of Taps (S119, S661)
          From: RFSlick on 5/10/99
      and From: darrell94590 on 7/24/2006
 Source: http://www.snopes.com/music/songs/taps.htm

 It all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army
 Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's
 Landing in Virginia.  The Confederate Army was on the other
 side of the narrow strip of land.

 During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moan of a
 soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field.  Not knowing
 if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided
 to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical
 attention.  Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the
 captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him
 toward his encampment.

 When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered
 it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was
 dead.  The captain lit a lantern.  Suddenly, he caught his
 breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the
 face of the soldier.  It was his son.

 The boy had been studying music in the South when the war
 broke out. Without telling his father, he enlisted in the
 Confederate Army.

 The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked
 permission of his superiors to give his son a full military
 burial despite his enemy status.  His request was partially
 granted.  The captain had asked if he could have a group of
 Army band members play a funeral dirge for the son at the
 funeral.  That request was turned down since the soldier
 was a Confederate.

 Out of respect for the father, they did say they could give
 him only one musician.  The captain chose a bugler.

 He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he
 had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of his dead
 son's uniform. This wish was granted.

 This music was the haunting melody we now know as "Taps"
 that is used at all military funerals.

 In case you are interested, these are the words to "TAPS":

        Day is done
           Gone the sun
               From  the lakes
                    From the hills
                        From the sky

       All is well,
            safely rest.
               God is nigh.

        Fading light
           Dims the sight
                 And a star
                      Gems the sky,
                           Gleaning bright

        From afar,
            Drawing nigh,
                 Falls the night.

         Thanks and praise,
             For our  days,
                   Neath the sun,
                       Neath the stars,
                            Neath the sky,

        As we go,
            This we know,
                   God is nigh.

 Excerpted from "Encyclopedia of Amazing But True Facts", by Doug

 The above story is wonderful, but only an urban legend as checked
 at http://www.snopes.com/music/songs/taps.htm.

Subj:     25 Hottest Urban Legends (S827)
          From: kgilmour2000 on 11/11/2012
Drawing from Snopes.com
 Source: http://snopes.com/info/top25uls.asp

 This page compiles the 25 urban legends currently circulating
 most widely, as determined by frequency of access, user searches,
 reader e-mail, and media coverage as of Sunday, November 11, 2012
 Click on the above source, or 'HERE' for my copy, to see the list.

Subj:     The Ultimate Urban Legend
          From: smiles on 5/11/99
...........(See 'Licking Envelopes' in BUGS_ETC
...........and 'How Budweiser Handled 9/11' in DRINKING_BEER2
...........and 'Cookies'in FACTS3
...........and 'FCC Proposal To Charge For Internet Service' in FACTS3,
...........and 'Urban Legend Exposed' in FACTS3
...........and best of all 'Truth About FCC Proposal' in FACTS3
...........and '"Plucking Yew" Is Urban Legend' in FACTS3
...........and 'Dead Man Works For A Week' in JOB-STUFF-SUPP
...........and 'Man Collects For Insured Cigars' in JUDGE
...........and 'Email-Forwarders' 12 Step Progra' in this file
...........and 'Robin William's Peace Plan Is A Hoax' in NATIONAL2
...........and 'Weatherman Predicts Snow' in PENIS3
...........and 'Plastics In Microwave Urban Legend' in SCIENCE2
...........and 'Ships Play Chicken' in SHIPS
...........and 'S.H.I.T. Origin Is Urban Legend' in SHIT
...........and 'The Lee Marvin Story Is An Urban Legends' in SOLDIER2
...........and 'Urban Legend Soapbox Video' in this file
...........and 'Zimbabwea Bus Driver Stops At Bar' in TRUCK-BUS)
           Go to Snopes.com to check for Urban Legends

 Over the last three years, a lot of stories have come along
 via email. Many seemed plausible, but actually were not true.
 These stories seem to take on a life of their own. They are
 known as urban legends.

 You may have seen this:


 I know this guy whose neighbor, a young man, was home
 recovering from having been served a rat in his bucket of
 Kentucky Fried Chicken. So anyway, one day he went to sleep
 and when he awoke he was in his bathtub and it was full of
 ice and he was sore all over. When he got out of the tub he
 realized that HIS KIDNEYS HAD BEEN STOLEN. He saw a note on
 his mirror that said "Call 911!" But he was afraid to
 use his phone because it was connected to his computer, and
 there was a virus on his computer that would destroy his hard
 drive if he opened an e-mail entitled "Join the crew!" He knew
 it wasn't a hoax because he himself was a computer programmer
 who was working on software to save us from Armageddon when the
 year 2000 rolls around. His program will prevent a global disaster
 in which all the computers get together and distribute Gates.
 (It's true -- I read it all last week in a mass e-mail from
 BILL GATES HIMSELF, who was also promising me a free Disneyworld
 vacation, Nike sneakers and $5,000 if I would forward the e-mail
 to everyone I know.)

 The poor man then tried to call 911 from a pay phone to report
 his missing kidneys, but reaching into the coin-return slot he
 got jabbed with an HIV-infected needle around which was wrapped
 a note that said, "Welcome to the world of AIDS."  Luckily he was
 only a few blocks from the hospital-the one, actually,
 where that little boy who is dying of cancer is, the one whose
 last wish is for everyone in the world to send him an e-mail and
 the American Cancer Society has agreed to pay him a nickel for
 every e-mail he receives. I sent him two e-mails and one of them
 was a bunch of x's and o's in the shape of an angel (if you get
 it and forward it to twenty people you will have good luck but
 ten people will only have OK luck and if you send it to less than
 ten people you will have BAD LUCK FOR SEVEN YEARS). So anyway
 the poor guy tried to drive himself to the hospital, but on the
 way he noticed another car driving along without his lights on.
 To be helpful, he flashed his lights at him and was promptly shot
 as part of a gang initiation.

 And it's a little-known fact that the Y1K problem caused
 the Dark Ages.

Subj:     Urban Legend Soapbox Video (S306b)
          From: ICohen on 12/9/2002

 This video takes two minutes download at 33kb.  Cute and well done.


Second version
 From: DoctorDebt on 8/22/2003


Subj:     Email-Forwarders' 12 Step Program  (S264c)
          From: Joke-Of-The-Day on 2/11/2002
          (See 'Ultimate Urban Legend' above)


 I will NOT get bad luck, lose my friends, or lose my
 mailing lists if I DON'T forward an email!

 I will NOT hear any music or see a taco dog, if I do
 forward an e-mail.

 Bill Gates is NOT going to send me money, Victoria Secret
 doesn't know anything about a gift certificate they're
 supposed to send me.

 Ford will NOT give me a 50% discount even if I forward
 my e-mail to more than 50 people!

 I will NEVER receive gift certificates, coupons, or
 freebies from Coca Cola, Cracker Barrel, Old Navy, or
 anyone else if I send an e-mail to 10 people.

 I will NEVER see a pop-up window if I forward an e-mail ...

 There is NO SUCH THING as an e-mail tracking program, and
 I am not STUPID enough to think that someone will send me
 $100 for forwarding an e-mail to 10 or more people!

 There is NO kid with cancer through the Make-a-Wish
 program in England collecting anything!  He did when he
 was 7 years old.  He is now cancer free and 35 years old

 The government does not have a bill in Congress called
 901B (or whatever they named it this week) that, if
 passed, will enable them to charge us 5 cents for every
 e-mail we send.

 There will be NO cool dancing, singing, waving, colorful
 flowers, characters, or program that I will receive
 immediately after I forward an e-mail. NONE, ZIP, ZERO,

 The American Red Cross will NOT donate 50 cents to certain
 individual dying of some never-heard-of disease for every
 e-mail address I send this to.  The American Red Cross
 RECEIVES donations.

 And finally, I WILL NOT let others guilt me into sending
 things by telling me I am not their friend or that I don't
 believe in Jesus Christ.  If God wants to send me a message,
 I believe the bushes in my yard will burn before He picks
 up a PC to pass it on!

 Now, repeat this to yourself until you have it memorized,
 and send it along to at least 5 of your friends before the
 next full moon or you will surely be constipated for the
 next three months and all  of your hair will fall out!

 Just Kidding...

Subj:     Did You Do Anything Today?
          From: smiles on98-09-24

 My husband came home today and saw me sitting on the couch,
 toddler on one knee, and baby nursing on the opposite breast.
 I was trying to turn the pages of a book with the hand not
 attached to the infant, while listening for the sound of the
 stove buzzer, which would indicate that tonight's pork chops
 were at the stage between "well-done" and "the dog gets
 tonight's entree."

 My husband looked at me innocently, and asked, "So, did you
 do anything today?"

 It's a good thing that most of my appendages were otherwise
 engaged, as I was unable to jump up and throttle him to
 death.  This was probably for the best, as I assume that
 asking a stupid question is not grounds for murder in this

 Let me back up a bit, and explain what led me to this point
 in my life.  I was not always bordering on the brink of
 insanity.  On the contrary, a mere four years ago, I had a
 good job, steady income, and a vehicle that could NOT seat
 a professional sports team, and me, comfortably.  I watched
 television shows that were not hosted by singing puppets.
 I went to bed later than nine o'clock at night.  I preferred
 sex to sleeping in.  I laughed at those people who drove
 halfway across the country hauling a tent trailer, three
 screaming kids, a drooling dog, and called it a holiday.
 Now I have become one of them.

 What happened?  The stick turned blue.  I have traded in my
 Victoria's Secrets lingerie for cotton briefs and a firm
 support nursing bra.  Good-bye, Garth Brooks.  Hello,
 Sharon, Lois and Bram.

 My idea of privacy is getting to use the bathroom without a
 two-year old banging on the door, and the baby spinning the
 toilet paper roll from my lap.

 And I finally understand that the term "Stay At Home Mom"
 does not refer to a parent who no longer works outside the
 house, but rather to one who never seems to get out the
 front door.  So here I sit children in hand, wondering how
 to answer my beloved husband.  DID I DO ANYTHING TODAY!

 Well, I think I did, although not much seems to have gotten
 accomplished.  I shared breakfast in bed with a handsome
 young man.  Of course, the breakfast consisted of a bowl
 of porridge and leftover cookie crumbs found between the
 sheets.  The handsome young man is about thirty-four inches
 tall and only gets really excited at the sight of purple
 dinosaurs, toy trucks and French fries.

 I got to take a relaxing stroll in the woods.  Of course I
 was on the lookout for frogs and lizards, and had to stop
 to smell the dandelions along the way.

 I successfully washed one load of laundry, moved the load
 that was in the washer into the dryer, and the dryer load
 into the basket.  The load that was in the basket is now
 spread out on the bed, awaiting my bedtime decision to
 actually put the clothes away or merely move them to the
 top of the dresser.

 I read two or three classics.  Out loud.  Of course, Dickens
 or Shakespeare cannot take credit for these works, as we
 have moved on to the works of Seuss and Munsch.  I don't
 think I will be making any trips to the Adult Section of my
 local library anytime soon.  In between, I dusted, wiped,
 organized and rearranged.  I kissed away the owies and
 washed away the tears.

 I scolded, praised, hugged and tested my patience, all
 before noon.

 You Betcha.

 I now understand what people mean when they say that
 parenthood is the hardest job they will ever have.  In my
 LBD (life before diapers) I was able to teach young minds
 how to divide fractions and write complex sentences, but I
 am unable of teaching a strong-willed two-year-old how to
 use the toilet.  I was once able to navigate urban streets
 while talking on the car phone and looking for a decent
 radio station, but now I can't get the wheels on my stroller
 to all go in the same direction.  I've graduated from
 university, written newspaper articles, and won awards, but
 I can't figure out how to get carrot stains out of the
 carpet.  I used to debate with my friends about politics,
 but now we discuss the merits of cloth versus disposable.
 And when did I stop talking in sentences that had more than
 five words?  So in response to my husband's inquiry, yes, I
 did do something today.

 In fact, I am one step closer to one of life's greatest
 accomplishments.  No, I did not cure AIDS or forge World
 Peace, but I did hold a miracle in my arms.  Two, in fact.
 My children are my great accomplishment, and the opportunity
 to raise them in my greatest challenge.  I don't know if my
 children will grow  up to be great leaders or world-class
 brain surgeons.  Frankly, I don't care, as long as they
 grow up to be happy and fulfilled.  They are my greatest
 joys, even though I sometimes cry myself to sleep at night
 in frustration.

 The point is, that today I got to watch my children take
 another step on the great journey of Life, and I even got
 to point out some of the sites along the way.  As chal-
 lenging as parenthood is, it is also equally rewarding,
 because we are using all our wisdom, our talent and skills
 to help forge a new person.  It is this person, these
 people, who in turn will use their gifts to create our
 future.  So every nursery rhyme I recite, every swing I
 push, every little hand I hold is Something.  And I did
 it today.

Subj:     Tired Carpenter Gets Ride Home (S620b)
          From: rlr29 on 98-09-28
      and From: darrellvip on 11/21/2008

  The carpenter that I hired to help me restore an old
  farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job.

  A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw
  quit, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start.

  While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving,
  He invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward
  the front door, He paused briefly at a small tree, touching
  tips of the branches with both hands.

  When opening the door, He underwent an amazing
  transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles
  and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a
  kiss.  Afterward he walked me to the car.

  We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me.
  I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier. Oh, that's
  my trouble tree," he replied. "I know I can't help having
  troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, troubles don't
  belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just
  hang them up on the tree every night when I come home.

  Then in the morning I pick them up again.", "Funny thing is"
  he smiled, "when I come out in the morning to pick'em up,
  there ain't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the
  night before."

Subj:     Short Cute Stories

Subj:     Book-A-Minute-SF/F (S383)
          From: igiggle on 6/2/2004
 We've taken several great speculative fiction novels and
 extracted the important stuff, cutting out all the filler.
 (With our ultra-condensed versions of your favorite speculative
 fiction, you can read entire books in just one minute!
 Even though it sounds pretty dumb, I got a great list of
 good books - http://rinkworks.com/bookaminute/sff.shtml

                           -(o o)-
From Smiley_Central