Speakers at the weekly luncheon meeting of a particular organization are always informed that they must finish by 1:30 and a huge clock hangs on the wall to remind them. On one occasion the speaker of the day glanced at the clock when it indicated 1:20 and remarked, "Now in closing I have ten points to emphasize; if I'm on number nine when the hand reaches 1:30, I'll finish anyway."
You probably think I'm like the little girl who said she knew how to spell banana but she didn't know when to stop.
As the fat man said when he crawled through the barbed wire fence, "One more point and I'm through."
We had occasion recently to address an editorial colleague here in the middle western area and concluded our missive, "See you Sunday, G, w, a, t, c, d, r."
We were surprised when he came back and asked for decoding. For generations this has been the departing observation of the rural Midwest. As two wagons pulled away from the Sabbath meetinghouse, one householder would call to another, "See you Sunday!" And the other would respond, "Sure, see you Sunday, God willin' and the creeks don't rise!"