There was once a very successful farmer from Texas who started gaining interest in his ancestry. After doing some digging, he traced his lineage back to a small town in Ireland. And lo and behold, they were a family of farmers.

So he packed his bags and took a trip to Ireland to visit the small town to see if he could track down some of his kin. After landing in Dublin, and driving an hour outside of the city, he stopped in a pub to grab a drink and start asking around about his family. The Texan sat down, ordered a pint, and started talking to the Irishman sitting at the bar.

After explaining his story and the purpose of the trip, the Irishman responded, “You don’t say! I’ve never heard of your family, but I’m a farmer as well. Tell me, what’s it like farming in Texas?”

“Gladly,” the Texan said, “farming in Texas has been quite lucrative for me.

If you started out in the morning, and drove west, you could drive all day before you reached the end of my property. And if you started the next day and drove East all day, you wouldn’t reach the end of my property. Same thing North and South, you could drive either direction all day and you wouldn’t reach the end of my farmland.”

“Ahh, I know what you mean,” said the Irishman, “I’ve got a tractor like that as well.”

It was his first time in the big city.

Joe, a country driver more familiar with gravel roads and tractor traffic, gripped the steering wheel with a mixture of awe and mild terror. He had never seen so many lanes, so many signs, and so many impatient horns honking all at once. As he crept up to a busy intersection, the light ahead turned red.

He did exactly what any cautious driver would do—he stopped. And then… he waited. The light turned green.

Still, he stayed put. He stared ahead, unmoving, blinking at the signal like it was speaking a language he didn’t quite trust. The light turned yellow.

Then red again. Then green once more. Still, nothing.

Finally, after the fourth change, a traffic officer who had been watching from the sidewalk couldn’t take it any longer. He jogged over through the chorus of car horns, tapped on Joe’s window, and gave him a polite but puzzled smile. “Sir,” he said, “What’s wrong?

Don’t we have any colors you like?”

A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead team were sent out to install telephone poles for the Telephone Company. After the first day, the brunette team had installed 30 poles, the redhead team had installed 37 poles, and the blonde team had installed 7. The contractor was outraged with the blonde team and demanded to know why they had done so few.

“Hey, we saw what the other teams were doing. Their’s were still sticking out of the ground.”