Candy's keen insight

My lovely wife Candy took me out to dinner tonight for my birthday. Forty-one is here and gone, and now I'm working on forty-two. Not a bad way to start.

Anyhoo...somehow during our dinner conversation, "The Gaithers" came up (if you don't know who they are, turn on Trinity Broadcasting Network just once...only once...and you'll see/hear them). Not sure what we were talking about for those well-worn songsters to be mentioned over salmon and fillet, but what was quickly dialed into was the questionable hairstyles of both the gents and gals.

I use the term "hair"styles loosely and charitably.

Candy, very delicately, questioned their use of "follicle enhancements" (OK...I'll just say it...WIGS). She wondered why they obviously wore them, then declared "It's not like you can take them with you. Toupees don't go to heaven!"

I laughed so hard, I spit chunks of baked potato and Mignon.

My friends, I have found the title of my book. "Toupees Don't Go to Heaven." Look for it in a dollar-store near you.

I hope I don't get sued.