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One Liners
"IF YOU THINK YOU CAN, OR IF YOU THINK YOU CAN'T, YOU'RE RIGHT" -- HENRY FORD Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97: Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now. Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine. Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday. Do one thing every day that scares you. Sing. Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. Floss. Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself. Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements. Stretch. Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't. Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone. Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's. Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own. Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room. Read the directions, even if you don't follow them. Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly. Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future. Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young. Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel. Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders. Respect your elders. Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out. Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85. Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth. But trust me on the sunscreen. Kurt Vonnegut, 6/97 Return to the top
And Standford University came into existance The President of Harvard made a mistake by prejudging people and it
costed him dearly .....
A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun
threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly
without an appointment into the president's outer office. The secretary
could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no
business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in
Cambridge. She frowned. "We want to see the president", the man said
softly. "He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped. "We'll wait,"
the lady replied.
For hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would
finally become discouraged and go away. They didn't. And the secretary
grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even
though it was a chore she always regretted to do. "Maybe if they just
see you for a few minutes, they'll leave," she told him. And he signed
in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn't
have the time to spend with them, but he detested gingham dresses and
homespun suits cluttering up
his outer office. The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted
toward the couple.
The lady told him, "We had a son that attended Harvard for one year. He
loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was
accidentally killed. And my husband and I would like to erect a
memorial to him, somewhere on campus". The president wasn't touched he
was shocked.
"Madam," he said gruffy, "We can't put up a statue for every person who
attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a
cemetery".
"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly, "We don't want to erect a statue.
We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard."
The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and
homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly
idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million
dollars in the physical plant at Harvard". For a moment the lady was
silent. The president was pleased. He could get rid of them now.
And the lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it
costs to start a University? Why don't we just start our own?" Her
husband nodded. The president's face wilted in confusion and
bewilderment.
And Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveling to Palo Alto,
California where they established the University that bears their name,
a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.
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For the sentimental among us ... Mark was walking home from school one day when he noticed the boy ahead of him had tripped and dropped all of the books he was
carrying, along with two sweaters, a baseball bat, a glove and a small tape recorder. Mark knelt down and helped the boy pick up the scattered articles. Since they were going the same way, he helped to carry part of the
burden. As they walked Mark discovered the boy's name was Bill, that he loved video games, baseball and history, and that he was having
lots of trouble with his other subjects and that he had just broken up with his girlfriend. They arrived at Bill's home first and Mark was invited in for a Coke and to watch some television. The afternoon passed pleasantly
with a few laughs and some shared small talk, then Mark went home. They continued to see each other around school, had lunch together
once or twice, then both graduated from junior high school. They ended up in the same high school where they had brief contacts over the years.
Finally the long-awaited senior year came and three weeks before graduation, Bill asked Mark if they could talk. Bill reminded him of
the day years ago when they had first met. "Did you ever wonder why I was carrying so many things home that day?" asked Bill. "You see,
cleaned out my locker because I didn't want to leave a mess for anyone else. I had stored away some of my mother's sleeping pills
and I was going home to commit suicide. But after we spent some time together talking and laughing, I realized that if I had killed
myself, I would have missed that time and so many others that might follow. So you see, Mark, when you picked up those books that day,
you did a lot more, you saved my life." Every little hello, every little smile, every helping hand saves a hurting heart. Pass it on. With this email also comes the token
that says that YOU are special. There's a miracle called Friendship that dwells in the heart. You don't know how it happens or when it
gets started but, you know the special lift it always brings and you realize that Friendship Is God's most precious gift! Return to the top
You Very Good; You Very Fast At the time, I was living in the Bay Area, and my mother had come to visit for a few days. On the last day of her stay, I was preparing
to go out for a run. Working in a very negative environment, I found morning runs very beneficial. As I was going out the door, my
mother said, "I don't think running is so hot - that famous runner died." I started to recount what I had read about Jim Fixx, and how running had probably been the contributing factor to his living far longer
than most of the other members of his family, but I knew there was absolutely no point. As I started running on my favorite trail, I found I couldn't shake her statement. I was so discouraged I could barely run. I began
thinking," Why do I bother to run at all? Serious runners probably think I look ridiculous! I might have a heart attack on the trail
- my dad had a fatal heart attack at 50 years old, and he was seemingly in better shape than I am." My mother's statement hovered over me like a giant blanket. My jog slowed to a walk, and I felt extremely defeated. Here I was in my
late 40s, still hoping for an encouraging word from my mother, and equally mad at myself for still seeking an approval that would never come. Just as I was going to turn around at the two-mile mark and head for home - feeling more discouraged than I could recall in years - I saw
an elderly Chinese gentleman walking toward me on the opposite side of the trail. I had seen him walking on other mornings. I had always said,
"Good morning," and he had always smiled and nodded his head. This particular morning, he came over to my side of the trail and stood in my
path, forcing me to stop. I was a little miffed. I had let my mother's comment (coupled with a lifetime of similar comments) ruin my day, and
now this man was blocking my way. I was wearing a T-shirt a friend had sent me from Hawaii for Chinese New Year's - it had three Chinese characters on the front, and a scene of
Honolulu's Chinatown on the back. Seeing my shirt in the distance had prompted him to stop me. With limited English he pointed to the letters and
excitedly said, "You speak?" I told him I didn't speak Chinese, but that the shirt was a gift from a friend in Hawaii. I sensed he didn't understand all of what I was saying,
and then, very enthusiastically he said, "Every time see you . . . you very good . . . you very fast." Well, I am neither very good nor very fast, but that day I left with an unexplained bounce in my step. I didn't turn from the trail where my
previous dark mood had intended, but continued for six more miles, and you know, for that morning I was very good. I was very fast in my spirit
and in my heart. Because of that little boost I continued to run, and I recently finished my fourth Honolulu Marathon. The New York Marathon is my goal for this
year. I know I am never going to win a race, but now, when I get any negative feedback, I think of a kind gentleman who really believed, "You very
good . . . you very fast." By Kathi M. Curry Return to the top
Why
The US Standard railroad gauge (distance between the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number.
Why was that gauge used?
Because that's the way they built them in England, and the US railroads were built by English expatriates.
Why did the English people build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that's the gauge they used.
Why did "they" use that gauge then?
Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they used for building wagons, which used that wheel spacing.
Okay! Why did the wagons use that odd wheel spacing?
Well, if they tried to use any other spacing the wagons would break on some of the old, long distance roads,
because that's the spacing of the old wheel ruts.
So who built these old rutted roads?
The first long distance roads in Europe were built by Imperial Rome for the benefit of their legions. The roads have been used ever since.
And the ruts? The initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagons, were first made by Roman war chariots.
Since the chariots were made for or by Imperial Rome they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing.
Thus, we have the answer to the original questions. The United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches derives from the original specification (Military Spec) for an Imperial Roman army war chariot.
Why did the Romans choose that width? Because the Imperial Roman chariots were made to be just wide enough to accommodate the back-ends of two war horses.
So, the next time you are handed a specification and wonder what horse's ass came up with it, you may be
exactly right.
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The Stranger
A few months before I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to
oursmall Tennessee town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with
thisenchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family.
Thestranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the
world afew months later.
As I grew up, I never questioned his place in our family. In my
youngmind, each member had a special niche. My brother, Bill, five
years mysenior, was my example. Fran, my younger sister, gave me an
opportunity toplay big brother and develop the art of teasing. My
parents werecomplimentary instructors - Mom taught me to love the word
of God, andDad taught me to obey it. But the stranger was our
storyteller. He couldweave the most fascinating tales. Adventures,
mysteries, and comedies weredaily conversations. He could hold our
whole family spell-bound for hourseach evening.
If I wanted to know about politics, history, or science, he knew it
all.He knew about the past, understood the present, and seemingly could
predict the future.
The pictures he could draw were so life-like that I would often laugh
orcry as I watched.
He was like a friend to the whole family. He took Dad, Bill, and me to
ourfirst majorleague baseball game. He was always encouraging us to
see the movies and he even madearrangements to introduce us to several
movie stars. My brother and I weredeeplyimpressed by John Wayne in
particular.
The strange was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind, but
sometimes Mom wouldquietly get up - while the rest of us were
enthralled with one of hisstories offaraway places - go to her room,
read her Bible and pray.
I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave.
You see, my Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions.
Butthis stranger never felt an obligation to honor them. Profanity,
forexample, was not allowed in our house - not from us, from our
friends, oradults. Our long time visitor, however, used occasional four
letter wordsthat burned my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge
the stranger wasnever confronted. My Dad was a teetotaler who didn't
permit alcohol inhis home - not even for cooking. But the stranger felt
like we neededexposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He
offered us beer andother alcoholic beverages often.
He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.
Hetalked freely(too much so) about sex. His comments were sometimes
blatant, sometimessuggestive andlewd, and generally embarrassing. I
know now that my early concepts of the man/womanrelationship were
influenced by this stranger.
As I look back I believe it was the grace of God that the stranger did
notinfluenceus more. Time after time he opposed the values of our
household and theprinciplesof the Word of God. Yet he was seldom
rebuked and never asked to leave.
More than 30 years have passed since the stranger moved in with the
youngfamily on Mornigside Drive. He is not nearly so intriguing to my
Dad ashe was in those early years. But if I were to walk into my
parent's dentoday, you would still see him sitting over in a corner,
waiting forsomeone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his
pictures.
His name? We always just called him T.V.
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The Stranger An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the housebuilding business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by.
The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.
When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house," he said, "my gift to you."
What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.
So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized, we would have done it differently.
Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project."
Who could say it more clearly? Your life today is the result of your attitudes and choices in the past. Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.
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Remember the times ..... Remember the first day of the first year of the first time in your life you started your journey to getting old,
Remember the roommates, the fears, the tears, the nerves, setting up the room, taking it apart and then rearranging it all over again,
Remember the first guy (girl) who caught your eye, that same guy (girl) who you will still remember as your first college crush,
Remember attempting to keep in touch with high school friends, and succeeding until you realized what a phone bill REALLY meant,
Remember promising to never change, but then realizing that's an impossible promise to keep when high school has passed and you've moved on,
Remember those first friends you shared your fears with, who soon became acquaintances,
Remember those neighbors and classmates, who ended up becoming your closest friends,
Remember holding back the tears on those days when you just wanted to be home again, to feel safe again,
Remember those days you felt you couldn't relate to ANYONE, you felt you had no place, and just calling home would make it worse,
Remember those bonding nights, when you never felt closer to a certain person, and how that closeness creates ties that never die,
Remember how you never realized the importance of family, until you didn't see them everyday,
Remember telling friends the deepest secrets of your life, and knowing they'd remain secrets,
Remember the craziness of the dorm, getting sudden bursts of energy and looking for people, even total strangers, to harass,
Remember pulling all nigh ers, and never thinking they were as bad as they sounded until you actually lived through one,
Remember when your closet stretched throughout the whole floor and you never had to worry about a lack of clothes anymore,
Remember how over breaks you had the chance to step back and really see the friends you made and the memories shared, and you were satisfied,
Remember thinking HOW MUCH your life has changed in just months,
Remember that dream guy (girl), you thought about so much, who when he finally opened his mouth, changed your opinion of him (her) forever,
Remember how that girl (guy) you once lived for soon became a joke and an excuse for you and your friends to laugh at yourself,
Remember the times, never forget them, even the little ones can hold the greatest meaning,
Remember to never lose touch with those friends you've made here at college, because you have all changed and grown enormously together,and that is something very sacred to be shared,
Remember you are only here for a short while, the time flies before you realize it, so make it last, make it memorable, make it the best time of your life, and make the best memories that you can carry with you for the rest of your days,
Remember this doesn't last forever so never let a day go by without living it to the fullest,
Remember to never let a day go by without a laugh,
Remember to love the ones you love, life isn't forever,
Remember the laughs, let them echo in the back of your mind,
Remember to love your friends, whether they come, go, love you or hurt you, NEVER let anyone go,
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