The wonders of the Internet

Everybody knows how Cliff loves working on old tractors.  He switches brands from time to time, of course.  We used to be Allis Chalmers aficionados, but we've switched to Olivers.  Who knows why men do what they do?  All I know is, when Cliff changes loyalties, I do too.  Because I'm that kind of good wife.  
They don't make those old tractors any more.  These days the only two decent brand names left are John Deere and (Lord help us) Kubota.  There are other makes and models still being manufactured, but they aren't quality stuff.  
So Cliff chooses his favorite brands from the 60's and 70's and tries to restore them to their former glory.  He doesn't need them, but he loves them.
In the old days it would have been exceedingly difficult getting parts and figuring out how to make old equipment work, but Cliff is fortunate: he married me, and I introduced him to the Internet.  
So when he tears down an old tractor and runs into a problem, he goes to Yesterday's Tractors and consults the people lurking on the Oliver message board.  He ran into difficulty with his current project, an Oliver 550.  Let me tell you, the fellows on that board have been jumping through hoops trying to help him.  There is one guy who Cliff considers the guru, the superman, the king of all that is Oliver.  After I posted on the board about Cliff's problem, people began sending him helpful emails.  One of those emails was from the Oliver King.  
Tonight the guy called him.  Seriously, you would have thought my husband was talking to the President of the United States; he was that much in awe.  
How can you not love the Internet?
  

Cliff and his email

Cliff really didn't get hooked on the Internet until the past year or so, as a result of my introducing him to Craigslist and Youtube. I've created a monster.

He was enjoying it so much that a few months back, I suggested to him that he needed a G-mail account; that way, when somebody sends me a joke I know will suit his fancy (slightly naughty, in other words), I'd forward it. Now the wonderful thing is, I can send him jokes I've received twenty times; they're all new to him, and he laughs heartily at them.

A little while ago he went to look at his email and wasn't signed in. Since I can type a lot faster than he can, I slipped behind his chair, reached down to the keyboard, and signed him in. There were about ten emails there, but they'd all been read.

"You've looked at these," I said. "You need to delete them."

"Oh no," he says, "that's the ones I saved."

Why would you save a bunch of jokes you've read?"

"Oh hell, they're funny!"

Must be one of those Mars/Venus things. Somehow a joke isn't funny to me after I've heard it a dozen times.