A man is hit by a car while crossing a Beverly Hills street. A woman rushes to him and cradles his head in her lap, asking, Are you comfortable? The man answers, I make a nice living.

One teacher recently retired with a half-million dollars after 30 years of working hard, caring, dedicating herself and totally immensing herself in the problems of the students. That gave her $50. The rest of the money came from the death of a rich uncle.

My wife calls our waterbed the Dead Sea.

There are a lot of things money can't buy. Not one of them is on my son's list.

Talk about cheap - on Christmas Eve, my neighbour shoots off three blanks and tells his kids Santa Claus just committed suicide.

One of those Christmas songs says, "You better not shout, you better not cry, you better not pout." How's my wife going to get along?

I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are; because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star. I'd rather be a has-been than a might-have-been, by far; for a might have-been has never been, but a has was once an are.