weeks of his retirement in peace and quiet, puttering around his work shop.
That is of course until the school year began. On the first day of school three young boys, full of pent up energy from a full day of school, came down his street. As they walked down the street they beat rhythmically on every trash can they past. Day after day, it was the same thing. Beating, clanging and pounding out a rhythm
on the cans as they walked down the street. Poor Uncle just couldn't take it any more.
The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young musicians. As they worked their way down the street, pounding out a tune on
the cans, my uncle stopped them and said, "You kids sure are having a lot of fun. I like seeing young people like you, express
themselves. In fact, I used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I'll give you each a dollar if
you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing." The kids were elated and continued to do a bang up job on the trash
cans.
After two days, my uncle greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad expression on his face. "This recession's really
putting a big dent in my income," he told them. "From now on, I'll only be able to pay you 50 cents to beat on the cans."
The boys were not pleased, but they did accept his offer and continued their afternoon concert. A couple of days later, my sly uncle approached them again as they drummed their way down the street.
With words that would ensure he would have peace and quiet from that day forward he said "Look, my Social Security check just
isn't stretching as far with the expenses. So I'm not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents a day. Will that be okay?"
"What?! Just a crummy quarter?" the boys exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these cans around for a quarter, you're nuts! No way, mister. We quit!"
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