Where I’m from (New Jersey), gas station attendants are required to pump your fuel, so my skills in that area have unfortunately gone to seed. Which may explain why, at a gas station on Route 1 in Walpole/Norwood, attempting what should be a simple exercise, I made the mistake of placing my wallet on my car roof. I’ll spare you the panic and angst of the next 15 or so minutes. But when my ever-thoughtful wife called our home phone number in hope of some good news, there was a message from Terri (a Boston accent never sounded sweeter) saying she and her husband, Dave, had found my wallet. Actually, what they’d found was a couple dozen cards and cash strewn along the highway. This was more of a search-and-rescue mission than simply picking up a wallet on the street. We called Terri’s cell and she insisted they bring the wallet to our hotel, where they refused any reward. Dave simply said, “Do the same for someone else.” We surely will.
Jack Lerner / Westfield, New Jersey
The Producers While visiting our 2½-year-old grandson, Adrian, his mother asked him, “Where do oranges come from?” He replied, “Flawidah.” She then asked him where lobsters come from. “Maine,” he answered. “And where do pears come from?” Said Adrian without pause, “Harry and David’s.”
Peter Soltz / Norfolk
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