[This reminds me of the days I spent crouched in an outhouse in the dead of winter.  The memory warms the cockles of my heart.  Mind you, in those days, my cockles needed warming.

In the mid-’50s, in Geraldton, we still had the honey wagon making its rounds.  The driver visited all the outdoor privies and emptied the five-gallon pails into the tank of the trailer he was pulling around.

After you’ve seen the video, return to this space and I’ll tell you a joke:]


[Joke: In the early days of Geraldton, the honey wagon was a horse-drawn tank-trailer.  One day it was pretty warm, and the driver draped his jacket over the tank.  While he was dumping a pail, the jacket fell in.  He reached down to retrieve it.

A passer-by yelled at him, “Hey, Lenny, forget it!  You can’t ever wear that jacket again!”

Lenny said, “Jeez, I know that.  But that’s not why I need it.”

“Oh?  What’re you doing it for then?”

“I got me lunch in the pocket.”]


About EJ Lavoie

Writer and independent publisher with website www.WhiskyJackPublishing.ca
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