Reminds me of the woman on a tour to the Blarney Stone. When the bus arrived there was a sign saying the stone was closed for cleaning. She got on the attendant's case, chewed him up one side and down the other, explaining that he and his entire ancestry were stupid as well as ignorant since it was his fault she wasn't going to be able to kiss the stone.
The attendant said, "Well, miss, are you aware that if you kiss someone who's kissed the stone you'll have the same good luck you'd have if you'd kissed the stone itself."
She gave him a screwed-up frown and said: "And of course, you've kissed it."
The attendant smiled: "Oh no, miss, but I've sat on it"
Sorry, Seamus. I do like the picture. It's the kind of thing I used to search out in the sixties, when there were still remnants of the American West hiding here and there.
