The Story behind my Tagline.

   A long time ago, when I was just a wee lad, before we moved to the house I grew up in, my parents lived in a house.  Across the street, lived an older woman, who happened to be rather prim, but also more than a bit nosey and opinionated.  Next to our house, my father had a small vegetable garden, as he has had wherever we have lived.

   One day, my father was working in his garden, with his back to the street, and he noticed that Mrs. Nosey was on her way over from across the street, presumably with some sort of advise for him.  Well, he really didn't want to talk to her, but at the same time, he couldn't just ignore here either, she being a neighbor and all.

   Just as she got to within conversational range of him, my dad let out a tremendous toot.

   Of course, Mrs. Nosey was now stymied.  She could not now get my father's attention, without causing an embarrassment.  What else could she do, except turn right around, and go back home.  Which is what she did.  Which is exactly what my father wanted.

   After finishing his work in the garden, my father went inside, and, chuckling, told my mother what had happened.  Of course, my mother was flabbergasted, and told my father he should be ashamed of what he had done.

   My father's response?  "Honey, it's a sad day when a man can't fart in his own garden."

   And I agree.