SOOT IN THE FLUES


| July/August 1982

  • Soot in the flues


  • Soot in the flues

Hi Dear Friends and Family of I.M.A.! I guess you are in your glory now with the Reunion Season in full swing and a few months to go. Enjoy it! And don't forget to pile up the memories and the good stories to let us in on later.

A while back I had a few sentences on signs of age. I promised to print some more of those funny(?) lines. Here it is in its entirety called:

Sign of Age

Everything hurts and what doesn't hurt, doesn't work
You feel like the night after when you haven't been anywhere
You get winded playing chess
Your children begin to look middle aged
You know all the answers, but nobody asks you the questions
You look forward to a dull evening
You turn out the light for economic rather than romantic reasons
You sit in a rocking chair and can't get going
Your knees buckle and your belt won't
You're 17 around the neck, 43 around the waist, 96 around the golf course
You just can't stand people who are intolerant
You burn the midnight oil until 9 P.M.
Your back goes out more often than you do
Your pacemaker raises the garage door when you see a pretty girl go by
The little gray-haired lady you help across the street is your wife
You get your exercise acting as pallbearer for friends who exercise
You have too much room in the house and not enough in the medicine cabinet
You sink your teeth into a steak and they stay there.



Aren't we strange creatures though? If you read this, you may chuckle a little, but not so much if they refer to you personally. I hope too many of them do not apply to you. I figure well; none of those are for meha! (Anyhow sounds like most of them are meant for men, don't you think so ladies, ms's and gals?) Enough of this and onto the letters:

First letter is from KNUTE KIRKEBERG, Box 1145, Cortez, Colorado 81321: 'When I received my Jan.-Feb. 1982 issue of IMA, I had to come back several times to picture No. 4 of the unclassified photos. It didn't seem possible, but the man at the controls looks like my father. If so, this picture had to be taken near Mayville, North Dakota in 1923, seven years before I was born. He came to the United States that year from Norway and worked on a farm owned by a family named Moen. Possibly some of your readers in the North Dakota area can remember and identify the engine. It looks like it could possibly be a Bird-sail. I don't know about those strange open cleats on the rear wheels. In any case, it would be exciting to positively identify my father.' (Now, there's a fellow that would really appreciate knowing the real identification of the picture. See if you can help Knute.)