Collage 175               H u m o u r N e t                9 NOV 95

Some people will simply never grasp the concept of the Internet.
Ironically, my now-Net-famous mom (Loretta--remember her?) is one of
them.

Typically, whenever I mail out a Collage, I get a whole slew of mail
"bounces"--servers that aren't available, accounts that have been
closed, etc. I wade through them as part of my job here as list owner.

Well, on Monday, I sent out a Collage with a "Loretta" opener, and
one of the bounces I received was from "LGSabio@aol.com"--the old
broad's account! AOL's mail server told me that the account was not
recognized. "Surely, this is a mistake," thought I, "I'll just resend
it." Mere moments later, another bounce. I check, and--sure enough--
no more LGSabio on AOL.

This was nearly devastating to a net.geek!

Of course, she's pretty old, and doesn't have many good years
(months?) left on her--so I gave her the benefit of the doubt and
figured that maybe she'd died, and simply had had the decency to
close out her AOL account prior to the demise. (A very considerate
thing to do, BTW--though you might want to unsub HumourNet before
closing the account. Saves me from reading those pesky "bounce"
messages. :-)

Well, I eventually found out what happened: her inaugural "ten free
hours" had expired on AOL, and she opted to check out a competitor
before making a final decision regarding her 'Net access.

Okay, this was a very practical approach; basically, the way I raised
her. But--for all you parents who've joined the 'Net just so you can
communicate with Janey or Johnny at college--YOU DON'T CHANGE YOUR
'NET ADDRESS WITHOUT TELLING YOUR KIDS! This is like changing your
*street* address without telling the kids!

It's embarrassing, showing up at the door, laundry in hand, ready for
a home-cooked meal, only to find that you don't recognize any of the
house's occupants ...

Plus, I'm a little sensitive about these changes. Several years ago,
my parents changed their home phone number without telling me. I had
a very embarrassing telephone conversation with some stranger:

V: "Hi! Who are you?" (Okay, so I'm not big on telephone manners.
Sue me.)

S: "I'm [fill in name]. I answered the phone because you were
driving my fax machine batty. What can I do for you?"

(Yeah, the fax machine should have been a dead giveaway, but I was
really very sure of the correct phone number.)

V: "Sorry about your fax machine--I'm trying to reach my parents."

S: "I think you have the wrong number, sir."

(I hate it when they call me that.)

V: "Is this 838-6488?"

S: "Yes. It's my fax machine."

V: "No it isn't--it's my parents' phone number."

S: "No, I'm sorry, it's my fax machine."

V: "Look, this isn't funny. I know the number is 838-6488; that's
what it's been for the last 24 years."

S: "Well, for the last two months, it's been my fax machine."

V: "How long did you say?"

S: "Two months. I just got the number two months ago."

(Cold, hard reality slowly sinks into our future list mod's sadly
under-endowed brain: I guess I really should call home more often.)

V: "Um, I think I understand the problem here. Sorry 'bout the fax
machine. It's working very nicely, by the way."

I had to call a neighbor to get the new phone number. (This is a true
story, BTW.)

So, not surprisingly, I'm a little sensitive about this whole
change-of-address thing. A phone call would have been nice. Or a fax.
Or even a letter (the old way--with a stamp). Actually, my mom's
letters are really very entertaining--almost up to HumourNet
standards! (Don't panic--it's a segue.) In fact, Steve--in New
Jersey--intercepted one of her letters, and sent it to me for
inclusion here on HumourNet.

And so we come to "Communication, Italian Style," with many thanks
to Steve.

'Communication' is followed by "Divorce, Italian Style," with thanks
to Dottie--who also provides us with "Italian Opera, American Style."

"Skydiving, Italian Style" is credited to the ever-prolific Lorraine.
(For you bad spellers, note that "L-o-r-r-a-i-n-e" is not spelled
the same way as "L-o-r-e-t-t-a," despite the initial similarity.
Lorraine declines any responsibility for me.  :-)

Shawn follows up with "Exorcism, Italian Style," and Dominick takes
credit for "More Italian Humor."

It's the "All-Italian Humor" Collage ... enjoy!

Ciao.

- Vince Sabio
  HumourNet Moderator
  HumourNet@telephonet.com
  New Jersey WOP
____________________________________________________________________
          Opener (above) Copyright 1995 by Vincent Sabio
  Permission is hereby granted to forward or post this "Collage";
  please observe the guidelines stated at the end of the message.
____________________________________________________________________

SUBJ: Communication, Italian Style ("A Letter From Loretta")

Dear Son,

I am writing this letter slow, because I know you can't read very
fast.

We don't live where we did when you left home. Your father read in
the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles from your
home, so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address as the
last Polish family that lived here took the house numbers when they
left, so they wouldn't have to change their address.

This place is real nice, it even has a washing machine. I'm not
sure it works so well. Last week I put a load of clothes in, pulled
the chain and haven't seen them since.

The weather isn't too bad, it only rained twice last week. The
first time it rained for three days and the second time it rained
for four days.

As for the coat you wanted me to send to you--your Aunt Josie said
would be a little too heavy to send in the mail with buttons, so we
cut them off and put them in the pockets.

We got another bill from the funeral home. They said if we don't
make the last payment on Grandma's funeral, up she comes.

Your Uncle Joe locked his keys in his brand new Buick yesterday.
We were worried, because it took him two hours to get Aunt Ruth and
the kids out.

Your sister had a baby this morning. I haven't found out what it is
yet, so I don't know if you are an Aunt or an Uncle.

Uncle Bob fell into a whiskey vat. Some men tried to pull him out,
but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated and he
burned for three days.

Three of our friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck; one was
driving and the other two were riding in the back. The driver got
out--he rolled the window down and swam to safety. The other two
drowned because they couldn't get the tailgate down.

That's all for now.

Love,
Mom

P.S.--I was going to send you money, but the envelope was already
sealed.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Divorce, Italian Style

Vincent and Loretta had been married for 45 years when Vincent died,
leaving his wife Loretta in not-so-comfortable financial condition.
After paying for the funeral and tombstone, all she had left was
her husband's fishing boat and $1.50 in cash. She had tried to sell
the boat, but so far had no buyers.

Still cash poor, Loretta went to a stonecutter to have the
inscription cut on Vincent's tombstone. She handed the stonecutter
an inscription she had written; it had a long, beautiful passage,
plus his name and dates of birth and death. The stonecutter told
her the inscription would cost $75.

Shocked at the price tag, Loretta asked how much the incriptions
cost; the stonecutter said it was 50 cents a word.

Loretta took a piece of paper, wrote a new inscription on it, and
handed it back to the stonecutter. It read, "Up and Died."

The stonecutter felt bad that after 45 years of marriage, all that
would be on Vincent's headstone was "Up and Died," so he told Loretta
he would give her a special deal--she could have six words for the
same $1.50.

Loretta thought for a moment, then she took the piece of paper, wrote
a new inscription for the tombstone, and handed it to the stonecutter.

The stonecutter took the piece of paper and looked at it. It read,

"Up and Died"
"Boat for Sale"

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Skydiving, Italian Style

Did you hear about the Italian skydiver who fell to his death last
week when his flippers failed to open?

[Editor's Note: Cute. Cuter is the "Italian reserve parachute:
opens on impact." </vs>]

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Exorcism, Italian Style

Two nuns were driving down the road when the devil suddenly landed
on the roof of their car.

"Oh, no!" cried one nun, "What should we do?"

"Show him your cross," said the other nun.

So the first nun rolled down her window and shouted out at the
devil, "I don't like it one single bit that you're on our car ..."

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: Italian Opera, American Style

Often times, people look at opera as a high-class form of
entertainment with overweight singers belting it out in some foreign
language. But opera is really simple entertainment that is flashy.

As a primer for the novice operagoer, here are the encapsulations of
six of the world's classical works:

Verdi's AIDA: Love does *not* conquer all. Aida dies.

Verdi's LA TRAVIATA: Don't lie to a woman. Violetta dies.

Verdi's RIGOLETTO: Money talks; shit walks. Gilda dies.

Puccini's MADAME BUTTERFLY: Men are pigs. Butterfly dies.

Puccini's LA BOHEME: Throw her down, pass her around. Mimi dies.

Puccini's TURANDOT: An Italian tenor can melt an icy bitch. Liu dies.

========================[ H U M O U R N E T ]=======================

SUBJ: More Italian Humor

As authorized by the pope:

Q: How do you grease a Ferrari?
A: Run over an Italian.

Q: Did you hear about the new Italian sports car?
A: It has 2 forward gears and 5 reverse gears.

Q: How can you spot an Italian tank in a battle?
A: It's the one with the back-up lights on.

Q: Did you hear about the new Italian Radial Tire?
A: Dago here and Dago there, but when Dago flat, Dago Wop, Wop, Wop.

Q: What does FIAT stand for?
A: Fix It Again Tony.

Q: Why is the Pope Polish?
A: They couldn't find anyone else who would move into an Italian
neighborhood.

Q: How do you sink an Italian submarine?
A: Put it in water.

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