At my age, 35, memories come and go. Cedar's post on 'PDOOWAP-SD' below reminded me of one.
The Kebo Twins were driving on a 'mountain road' (I will have to define 'mountain road' in KEBO'S OUTDOORSMAN DICTIONARY OF WORDS AND PHRASES) a few years ago when suddenly, with no warning (well not one that either of the Twins noticed anyway) the 'mountain road' decided to 'sluff' away, and we rolled the trusty Landcruiser II (Rocky) down the mountain. As we started to go over the edge of the precipice, and it was inevitable that we were going over, I took the moment (it was short) to give Jr. an instruction. I instructed him to "Count the number of rolls!" When we came to a screeching halt against a very large Ppnderosa Pine ( I love those trees), just before it would have really gotten dicey, I asked him, "How many times did we roll?" His response, "I lost count after the first one." Kids!
Anyway, back to my memory, that I almost forgot...After we checked all of our body parts and determined that we had them all and they were 'ok' (I will have to define that term also), well except for Sirius who we discovered a couple of months later had lost two front teeth,--Hey, before you call the Humane Society you have to know that he never, never once, complained--we climbed back up to the 'mountain road'. When we got there and as we were trying to determine which way we should start walking, we heard gun shots coming from down the road 'a ways' (going to have to define that phrase also).
We decided to hike towards the continuing gunshots...there would no doubt be a fellow Outdoorsman at the source of those shots. Sure enough, 'a ways' down the road, there was a camp. Upon walking up to the camp a 'friendly voice' (yep in the dictionary that goes) greated us and said "Hey...what are you guys doing up here?" The voice sounded familiar, and then we saw the Outdoorsman we knew would be at the source of the gun fire. It was Jim, our neighbor across the street...see the post below...and our insurance agent! We explained to Jim that we had suffered a 'little' (dang another word for the dictionary) trouble with our rig 'a ways' back down the 'mountain road', and we would sure appreciate it if he would give us a ride back to town. "Sure" he says. Now how is that for a full service insurance agent!
We piled in his rig and he drove us back down the 'mountain road'. When we had gone 'a bit' and we were within sight of where the 'mountain road' intersected with the 'main road' (yep another word for the dictionary), Jim asked, "Where is your rig? Did we pass it?" Jr. and I smiled at each other...actually checking each others teeth for any gaps..."Ya, we passed it already. It is 'a bit' off the road."
So next time you see that ad on TV about a State Farm agent saving the day...think Jim (he is not a State Farm agent) and go to him instead. The proof is in the pudding. He has State Farm's service beat all to heck!