Some of you may have read these, but I thought I would put them in this category which seems more appropriate, if you like a bit of lite reading ,let me know, got a few more related stories I can drop here [am a one finger typist though, and she who must be obeyed bans me off the computer from time to time].
Mention was made round here the other day of mag placement [was it a complete waste of time etc] and this story came to mind that I thought you may enjoy.
Me and my mate decided to go do some 'outback' witnessing, the word got around , and out comes all them unplaced mags, like a mud slide threatening to overwhelm/overload you. A full days drive, check in at local pub. Up very late next morning, I say to Maca,'lets go see old Jimmy he's good to start with. 'Yeah and he's got aircon' said Macca who loved to get his priorities right.[Jimmy was a local Aboriginal elder, and although we didn't need elder permission in this town it was a polite thing to do, besides he has aircon] Front door opens 'Heyyyyy boss come on in.' We sat and talked about the really important things, like which fishing spots where a goer right now, which pub had the cheapest beer[3 pubs in town] and of course family. "Hey boss you got any dem magazines you's always got" "Yer Jimmy, whys that you want some" "Boss them magazines work really well, them watchtowers give me light they lite up me fire every night, and them awakes, I sit by the fire with me beer and when I start to nod off I throws one of them awakes on and poof I'm awake, how many you got." I looked at Macca and he nodded. "We got three boxes, Jimmy" "Can I have them please boss." "Sure Jimmy, just do one thing for me," I said reaching in my bag and pulling out a watchtower, and holding up the front cover, "read me what it says Jimmy.""Watchtower Praise The Lord." "You win 3 boxes Jimmy" Cant describe his smile, he was so pleased with himself. Macca and I opened the car only to see 4 boxes. Macca said "its almost lunch time." "Hey Jimmy can you handle another box." "sure bose I'll get the grand kids to take some to the rellies [relatives].
"That's 98% of the territory covered." I said to Macca. "Yep I'll will break out the fishing gear, quick feed, couple of stubbies [ beers] we'll be fishing by 1.30." loved that man Always had his priorities right. We dropped the cartons in the house and were walking back to the car. "Heyyyy boss where them magazines made." "Down Sydney somewhere," "You should drive down [sure Jimmy thousands of kms] tell the big boss to keep making and sending them cause they works just fine."
Needless to say I never did tell the org the Real Use for their mags. FF
'Watchtower magazines bring great relief in a time of great need'
Macca and I where on our way to see old Charley, a lovely old aboriginal man who lived 30 mins out of town, lived by a river that had some great fishing, so he was always 'last port of call' so that would make it around 10 oclock, give or take ohh 5 minutes, nothing like routine in the 'Truth', when it comes to fishing.
We arrived "I'll go Mac" [although Charley didn't mind people, he liked one approaching first] 'Yer right' I got out and approached the shed "Charley you old bugger you home" nope, so I started walked down the track, about 100 meters from the car now, when up ahead I see a cloud of dust, 1sec,2secs register, Pack of Dooogs, turn, RUN. May have been 100 meters, looked like a flamin mile back, I did a dash an Olympian would have been envious of, barrelled into the car,Macca's doubled over with laughter,"oh very funny" "Sorry it just looked so funny," "glad its your car they are about to scratch to death" "Get out of it you Mongrel Dogs" screamed Macca totally inevectuatly. Before this could happen, out of nowhere [as only aboriginals can do] old Charley appeared ,and between laughter managed to get off a whistle that pulled the dogs up short. I wound down the window "that's not funny Charley, them mongrels could have savaged me" "Naaaaa boss thems my aunties dogs, she trains them for kids, they would lick you to death, she gone down the track for a time so's they's here, come on I'll put the billy on." We sat and had a cuppa and spun a few yarns, "hey boss gotta tell you what happened to the last box of magazines you left, I had to go see my uncle who lives between them 2 big rivers, you know xxxx and xxxx, so's I muster up a mob from town and we go [he had a dual cab work truck] you know the big rain we had, it started way up the river, by the time she rains here the causeways [no bridges just concrete causeways] they's waaay under, stuck there for nearly 3 weeks, food no worries, plenty kangaroos, barra [fish] in the creeks and good bush tucker around, and plenty firewood, but one thing boss no toilet paper, my cousin yells, hey Charley you got a box of them Jehova's magazines we could use, behind the seat, " No I say's we cant do that them is holy books [Charley had a deep love for the God he saw around him in the bush, but could never understand why he would get himself trapped in a book, but as he said, if he needs to do it for 'you whities' then he knows what he's doing] I thinks, and I say's, this is what we'll do, I'll talk to the big fella, I said to Him, if you don't want us to use them please drop some from the sky [he was of course referring to a helicopter/plane drop] well about an hour later, airplane pretty high up drops a chute, and she's coming down on target, coming down, coming down and the wind carries it just across the creek, so I turns to them and tells them "he tried' so this is what we will do, we'll cut that name Jehovah out wherever we find it, Then we can use it." And that's what they did for most of the box. Wish old Macca was still around so I could show him this write up on what we called 'dog day morning' and also point out that I didn't call myself FnFast for nothing. FF