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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/8091-Life-in-a-Tin-Can.html
Comedy: January 25, 2017 Issue [#8091]

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Comedy


 This week: Life in a Tin Can
  Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ Author IconMail Icon
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Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

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Anybody who is really familiar with Florida, other than the usual tourist attractions, knows that there are many so-called manufactured home communities. In other words, mobile home parks.


Word from our sponsor



Letter from the editor

Hello folks! Welcome to another edition of the Comedy Newsletter.

I must admit I never imagined a mobile home park would be my choice of living space when I considered becoming a snow bird. However, while comparing other housing options such as apartments and condos, it was looking more desirable to at least check out the “parks.” They are in many cases, well-developed, well-landscaped, waterfront lots, with activity oriented club house events. There are even those that have health care facilities right on the premises, not to mention golf courses.

I liked the idea of an unattached dwelling. Also I had the choice of a 55+ community, which appealed to me. There would be less worries about things like little kids running out into the clubhouse parking lot, or hoarding the pool, or even bored teens roaming around for hours trying to pass the time. And every parent knows, bored teens are potential trouble magnets.

We found a fine water front unit available, and loved it immediately. We leased it, and have done so for the past six years. We call it our winter cottage. But sometimes we lovingly refer to it as the “tin can.” *Laugh*

There’s one thing for sure about mobile home communities -- they have their dramas. The other day, the president of the park’s HOA, was worrying and pacing and on the phone with a panicked look on his face. When he hung up, he announced. “My house is stuck somewhere on I-95!”

Only in Florida, folks, have I ever heard those words spoken.

People all gathered by his side, deeply concerned. It seems his new “cottage” was to be delivered that day, but he received a call that there was a delay, and it would not be delivered until Tuesday, due to the upcoming holiday weekend.

My comment and question to him, because I’m fairly new to the traveling home industries, was -- “Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that. Did your house have a flat?” Only in Florida, folks.

His shocked expression, led to a more curious look, as if he were thinking seriously about the possibility. “Well, I really don’t know what happened. But they have to wait for some engineer person to do some supporting or something, I really don’t know.”

“Hmm, maybe it was the flat-bed trailer that is carrying the house that had a flat. It can’t be easy changing a flat on a flat-bed, when it’s loaded down by half a house.” *Rolleyes*

“You don’t understand the terrible timing issue of this. We were all ready for it to arrive, today. We arranged for the back gates to be unlocked and opened. I have company over, and they were going to help me and my wife welcome the new house and then christen it with a bottle of champagne. Uhm, not the expensive stuff, you know, I wouldn’t waste that on a house. No, no, we’ve got the good stuff for later after the house delivery. I got the cheap sparkling wine to christen the house. But it’s the thought, ya know. And my company is leaving on Sunday, and won’t get to see the house arriving. They came all the way from Ohio. They never saw a house being delivered to one’s home, before. I mean home’s lot.”

I figured give him his moment of what could have been, and I tried to be supportive.

“So, why don’t you find out where exactly the house got stuck, since I hear it’s not more than a half an hour away from here on I-95, and take your company to visit the house? They’ll get to see it before they go back North. At least two-halves of a house, one perhaps a little lower than the other, as it sits now, but, you know what I mean, before they glue them together and all. You can give it a quick salute as you drive by.” *Ha*

Silence, followed by what I thought I noticed as a sincere pondering of that idea. *Smirk*

“I’m just gonna go back to my old place and tell my wife and company, there will be no house on parade, today. Heck, I’ll just throw some steaks on the grill and open the good stuff, anyway.”

The days flew by, and now, curious people all over the park were watching for the delivery of the “president’s” house. I have to say, I was one of them. Okay, okay, I’ve never seen a house delivered to the park, either. One problem -- I had no idea what time it was going to arrive. We had to depend on the folks living by the usually locked, back gate, to send word down to their friends, at the pool, then we would all know. Because, that’s just how life is, in the Village of the Tin Cans.

It was getting later in the afternoon and Web-Lock and I had some errands to do, so we had to let go of the idea of seeing the greatest side show on community earth. We started toward the front gate, which is narrower and made for nothing bigger than a UPS truck to get through.

There was a gathering all right, and as we approached we could clearly see and hear why.

“Wrong gate! You’re coming through the wrong gate!”

Screechhhhhhhh!!! Ughhh-ohhhhh. *Shock*

It’s a big wrap, bang, boom, for this edition of the Comedy Newsletter.

Until next time--laugh hard, laugh often!



This is one of my new sigs






Editor's Picks

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Ask & Answer

Osirantinous Author IconMail Icon

My mum had a letter she sent me returned to her with 'this address doesn't exist' on it. I had apparently been living at a non-existent address for years before anyone realised. And she showed me the envelope (when she hand-delivered it) - address was as clear as day and the numbers even matched what was on my letterbox. Sometimes you gotta wonder what's going on in those places.

I know, it's like, "We don't pay you to second guess where we live, just deliver the mail, okay?!!!" I don't know what's up with some post offices, lately. It's not a mysterious treasure hunt, it's a letter and it has the proper address written, right on it. We know where we live, because our bills always reach us. *Laugh*


papadoc1

Hey Cutecakes! Nice newsy Newsletter, as usual, but heeeeey....whuzzap with the mail? Those guys ALWAYS got it right, ALWAYS! I mean, its bad enough that we ALMOST missed AM coffee time (we survived on survival coffee from 7-11), but still.....all the things they COULD "re-find" they gave back to us...only the boxes had been partly opened...you know...to "check things out" in there. Ewww. How creepy could it get? But then again, one never knows who the joke is on, right? Hey, Happy New Year sweetie!! *Bigsmile**Smile*

*Hug1**Heart**Hug2* *Kiss*


LJPC - the tortoise Author IconMail Icon

Just when everyone was desperately hoping 2017 would be an improvement, it looks like yours is off to a bad start. Aren't you worried all your pipes will crack in the house if you leave it with no heat? I'm glad Amazon treated you well. 4 years ago I ordered 2 books. I'm still waiting. I did my best to track the pkg and complained to Amazon. The shipper and Amazon refused to take responsibility. And Amazon won't even let me see Kindle books since no one in 3rd world countries is allowed to download ebooks. I have 2 books published and I can't even see my own books! I'm not an Amazon fan.
~ Laura

*Shock2* That's messed-up, Laura. I guess Amazon has its geographical limits and governmental regulations in some countries to contend with. Not always their fault, as they do deal with third-party vendors who live in countries where their lack of honesty in fulfilling orders can happen without consequences to them. Sorry about the inability to download your own book, where you live. That has to be frustrating. *Irritated*



Thank you for your feedback, folks. We editors really appreciate it!

See you next month.



*Witch*



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