Arizona Humor

ARIZONA HUMOR A New Experience

A gentleman from France had recently moved to Arizona and was having the usual problems adapting, not only to the language, but to the sur-roundings, the plants, and the wildlife as well.

My friends and I took him on his first fishing trip to Apache Lake. He had never seen the salamanderlike "water dog" that we typically used as bait, and he was aghast when I pulled one of these four-legged, whiskered, squirming creatures from the bait bucket.

In his fright, he confused the geography and the zoology of his new home state. Tripping to the end of the boat, he screamed, "Oh, no! It's a Gila Bend!"

Honeymoon Suite

While enjoying dinner in a Sun City retirement home, our hostess pointed out a couple who also were having a wonderful time. One was a widow and the other a widower.

Because both were quite elderly and extremely fragile, their friends were amazed when they announced their plans to marry.

Someone asked where they planned to spend their honeymoon, and the widow responded, "I thought we would spend the first few days at the Mayo Clinic."

A Last Lament

When we moved to Sun City nearly 20 years ago, we exchanged the lush grass lawns we were used to for green rocks, a few evergreen shrubs, and citrus trees.

But my husband also insisted on a cactus garden for the backyard. One of the plants he selected was a good-size saguaro.

Time passed, and he watched his saguaro friend thrive until it reached a height of 30 feet. I watched, too, but not with my husband's enthusiasm. In a strong wind I swear it swayed a little at the top, and so I begged him to have it removed before it toppled.

Finally, a landscape crew arrived and hauled it away.

As my husband wistfully watched his friend ride away in a truck, he lamented, "Parting is such sweet saguaro."

What's in a Name?

My daughter, who teaches kindergarten on the Nava-jo reservation, was telling the children what their names mean in English when one lit-tle girl asked, "Mrs. Berg, what is your name?"

"Dawn."

"What does that mean?"

Dawn explained that her name means the beginning of day.

Looking completely confused, the little girl inquired, "So, what's your name after dark?"

Horse Sense

Two horses who had been colts together met one day after many years apart. One had been very well cared for, but the other was down-and-out. They began to exchange their stories.

The well-cared-for one had been purchased by a wealthy horse lover who kept the ani-mals for the pleasure of his family. The horse enjoyed an idyllic life.

"What luck you had," the other horse said. "I was bought by a crotchety junk dealer. I don't get much food, and I'm hardly ever groomed. I swear that man takes pleasure in beating me, too."

The first horse was indignant.

"I would not stand for such a thing. I would write the SPCA."

"Sure," replied the down-trodden horse. "If he knew I could write, he'd have me do the accounts, too."

The Morning After

While vacationing in Arizona several years ago, my husband and I were having a leisurely Sunday morning breakfast in a Globe restaurant.

A young man displaying all the classic symptoms of a hangover entered and mounted a stool at the counter.

Placing a steaming cup of coffee before her red-eyed customer, the waitress exclaimed, "Jeepers, Mike, you must have really tied one on last night. Your eyes look like road maps."

"If you think they look bad from out there," came his reply, "you should see 'em from in here."

Bikers Beware

I was taking a friend from my home state of Indiana into Cottonwood when we passed a sign at the city limits that read: All Peddlers Must Register with the Chief of Police.

"Gee," my friend remarked, "I wonder why they are so strict on bike riders around here?"

TO SUBMIT HUMOR

Send us a short note about your humorous experiences in Arizona, and we'll pay $75 for each one we publish.

We're looking for short stories, no more than 200 words, that deal with Arizona topics and have a humorous punch line.

Send them to Humor, Arizona Highways, 2039 W. Lewis Ave., Phoenix, AZ 85009. Please enclose your name, address, and telephone number with each submission.

We'll notify those whose stories we intend to publish, but we cannot acknowledge or return unused submissions.