My father first met Wally when he came around a corner and discovered a guy with a beat up Land Rover and a trailer ... and a boat that had fallen off the trailer into the street. They became fast friends - and remained friends for the next 50 years.
Wally was a musician, a raconteur, a delight.
He loved to fish; here he is in the Deschutes, with his first steelhead, wearing an inimitable hat.
And he was an inveterate joke teller. Here's one:
A guy went to the doctor and said, Doctor, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but every time I fart, it sounds like the word
honda.
That’s interesting. I've never heard of anything like that before. Do you think you could fart for me? says the doctor.
The guy said okay and sure enough, the doctor heard honda.
After several attempts to figure out what was wrong with the guy, the doctor ran out of ideas, so he sent him to all sorts of specialists, but none of them could figure out why the guy's farts sounded like honda.
Finally, as a last resort, someone suggested that the guy see a dentist.
After explaining the problem to the dentist, the dentist opened the guy's mouth and examined his teeth.
The dentist said Aha! You have an abscessed tooth.
The guy said Okay, but what has that got to do with my farts?
Don't you see? said the dentist, Abscess Makes The Fart Go Honda.
Wally, I hope you are telling your jokes to the angels.
