February 23, 2002
JustMikeF
A young man was studying the antique piano he and his wife had recently inherited. As most old pianos go, they are old technology pieces as well, rarely worth restoring and rarely do they have the sound you would expect for the expense. He decided to have it tuned to determine if further expense would be justified. Further investigation under the keyboard cover revealed a metal label stating that the instrument had been tuned many years ago in the old country by a craftsman named “Opperknockernee”. The young man was amazed that a craftsman would be so confident as to put his name permanently on his work.
He decided to contact Opperknockernee in an effort to put the instrument and craftsman together again. Through family members he found that the old craftsman was still in business, so he called to arrange an appointment to have the piano tuned. The phone rang, the old man answered, the young man explained why he was calling. The old man became quite belligerent and after a few words, obliterated by a language barrier, said, in no uncertain terms, “NO!”
Moral of this story?
Opperknockernee Only Tunes Once!
I was playing on one of the gambling cruise boats in Florida. It’s pretty tough to have a winning session on these boats. Not many regular players that you could file away in your memory as to how they shoot. I couldn’t get it together either. Two or three tosses then a seven. I was, what seemed to be, out of sync with my bets and the dice results of the other shooters. In short I was having my d— knocked in the dirt.
I was approaching my loss limit and was about to color up. Looking up, I did a double take. The stick was pushing the dice to a kid that I recognized from a previous cruise. The only other session I saw this guy shoot, ELEVEN, ELEVEN, POINT, SEVEN OUT. The next time he got the dice, ELEVEN, ELEVEN, POINT, SEVEN OUT.
Two red chips to the stick, “Yo, Please.”
Very few elevens had been thrown so far that night and I began to regret my bet. I make one roll bets only the second full moon of a month, the “Blue Moon.”
“YO” the stick cried. I restrained myself from doing a back-flip!
“Press the YO.” Was that my voice I heard say that?
“YO” again the stick sang.
“And down” I said. I have not seen that kid on a boat since, but I will remember him should the opportunity knock twice.
Color Me Up!
JustMikeF
