Mort the motorcycle enthusiast took his last ride at a ripe old age. St. Peter was showing Mort around Heaven. Mort noticed that a clock graced each corner.
“What are all the clocks for?” Mort asked.
“Each profession has a clock. When a member of that profession tells a lie, the clock ticks.”
Morty saw lots of clocks, for farmers and welders, mechanics and lawyers, doctors and dentists, writers and actors—every profession a person could imagine. Most of them clicked once in a while; some, like to ones for buggy whip maker and stage coach driver seemed not to tick at all; and some clicked quite rapidly. But one profession seemed to be missing.
“Where is the clock for politicians?”
“Oh,” answered St. Peter, “we have a hard time keeping one on a corner. People keep taking them home to use as fans.”
Yet, there’s no denying it: Unless you plan to ride exclusively around the Southern United States, you’ll face some chilly winters. And even before it...
