About
I am a nobody. If the different classes of America were color-coded, I would be in the yucky brown, one rung up from the bottom. I grew up in Naples, Florida and live near the Mississippi River now with my husband and two dogs. I am part of the slowly disappearing middle-class. I was a musician most of my life: drummer/singer/keyboards—but I retired before the plastic surgery flu hit. I have no degrees, which could be a good thing…depending on how you view our educational system. I do have three patents…but that really doesn’t make me a somebody. The one thing that is constant in my life is my OPINIONS, which i have more than perhaps even Carl Sagan could have imagined…mostly political. (yes…my ancestors were crabby buggers)
Hopefully other nobody’s will put their opinions on my site. But, if you happen to be a somebody, you’re more than welcomed to help out.
It’s my Nobody Opinion that Nobody’s Perfect, and Nobody Cares, that Nobody Knows why Nobody Wins, and when that happens, Nobody Wonders, why Nobody Flashes, why Nobody’s Fooled, but then Nobody remembers that Nobody ALWAYS Reports the truth.
You can email me at joyanna_adams@yahoo.com
Joyanna Adams
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Joyanna Adams 
I can remember back when Bankers were prudent. Yep, I am that old.
Back in the early 70’s when this Corporal was elevated to the dizzy heights of Officerdom – well, sent to Officer Training, which was a cross between a schoolroom and hell – I went to see my bank manager about a loan for a car. After a long interview during which tips on maintaining the car, driving carefully and a copy of the highway cose were gratuitously offered, the loan was given. I had been prudent in response too, omiting to tell of how I lost my driving licence for six months for three-in-a-row infractions.
I bought a huge (in those days) Ford Zephyr which Mrs Amfortas (the first) swooned over.
A few months passed and a Graduation Ball was due to which all the wives and girlfriends were expected to do their decorative part. Mrs A (the 1st) dolled herself to the nines and set off for the long trip to my base. En Route, on a freeway the bottom hose on the radiator blew and all the water decanted. Mrs A (the 1st) was oblivious to the cause of the sudden change in the temperature guage but prudently decided to pull over, moving decorously from the fast lane to the side shoulder in a leisurely fashion as befits a Belle of the Ball.
By which time the engine had melted.
I won’t tell of the frantic phone calls and gathering of beautifully attired Officers of HM’s RAF who leapt into action, but my lady wife was rescued and my lovely new and expensive car was buggered.
Cap in hand I went back to my bank manager for another loan to rebuild the wrecked engine. Spitting chips he explained to my military mind that there was another interpretation of the term ‘collateral damage’. I got the loan but with an extra 1/2% added to the interest.
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Wow…those were the days…and you remember them well! Great story!
Joyanna Adams
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