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My education school wise, at least was somewhat curtailed by the fact that my family needed extra income and that an education, at least for me the oldest of three boys was not so important. After all, my father and most of his siblings never finished public school and they did OK, so what was the point of keeping this fool in school when he could be contributing five or six dollars a week to the good of the household?  I am a clown to-day and I haven’t changed much since my first day at school. I failed grade one for being in my own little world and not paying attention. I think that over the years I have figured it out.  I have been lucky and curious, that has carried me a great distance on this highway of life.

I have been told by some friends that I should post a few humorous stories we have encountered over the years on some of our travels.

I hope to oblige over the next few weeks if I don’t forget.

The following story came about following a walk on the beach of Costa Del Sol in Spain and was taken from my latest book “Rantings and Raves of a Curious Old Fart”

“Worry Stones”

Joan and I have walked the beaches of many different countries in our travels. The beaches of Costa del Sol in Spain gave up the richest booty for us in the way of beach stones. It’s almost infectious when you start by picking up just one pretty stone. One leads to the next and before you know it, you have gathered a mother lode of treasure. Now what to do with your treasure? They are bulky and heavy and every time you start to sort out the not so good ones, you come up with the same result, ten pounds to be added to your luggage. Way back in the good old days an extra bag was never a problem. Joan thought I could cover a coffee table using these nice little gems. I must admit they were all very pretty and would make a nice addition to someone’s home but hopefully not mine.

The stones ended up in a shoe box and forgotten for a few months until I got the bright idea of selling them. My whole adult career was selling, and I have been told by a few astute observers that I was pretty good at it. I was already selling almost everything at my flea market; this would be the ultimate test of my selling skills. The shoe box was put in a prominent spot on the sales counter just waiting for that first lucky customer. It didn’t take long. “Try my new WORRY STONES from Costa del sol in Spain.” The question was pretty much the same from every customer, “what does it do?” “Just rub it gently between your fingers; can you feel a little warmth?” “are you worried?”– “no”—“ by golly I think it is working.” In two weekends I had an empty shoe box. The larger stones in my parking lot didn’t sell as well, so we went on to bigger and better ideas for making a few bucks. Recently, on a TV talk show I was surprised to hear that many people carry a small smooth stone and when they are stressed, it helps them to rub it gently for relief of stress and anxiety. Wow, I was really on to something. Remember the “Pet Rock” craze a few years ago.

Paul D. Scott

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