OUT in the wilds of Scotland, in the town of Peterhead (pronounced to rhyme with ‘deed’), a woman calls the Peterhead Examiner to place a death notice for her husband of 40 years.
“What would you like to write?” asks the editor.
“Put this: Robert Reed, Peterheed, Deed.’’
“Surely after 40 years you want some sentiment as well?” the editor queries.
“Noo, noo, that’s eet,” she replies.
The editor twigs and says, “If it’s money that’s a problem, you should know that you get three lines for the same price as one.”
“Oh, let me have a think.”
A few hours later she calls back stating she has taken the editor’s advice and wants to change her husband’s death notice.
“Good,” the editor says, “can’t let 40 years go unrecognised. What is the notice?”
“Write this,” she replies, “Robert Reed, Peterheed, Deed. Volvo for sale.”