I should be asleep, I am falling on my face. Ok, I am not really falling on my face. Whenever my mother used to say that I would go and inspect her face for rocks and dirt. For some reason she didn't appreciate it.
When I was in school I used to serve as the class clown, or at least as the guy who would try to be the clown. No, that is not true, it wasn't that I wasn't trying to clown around, I just have this amazing need to share my thoughts out loud. Sometimes they can be very funny and sometimes they fall flat, real flat.
It is a habit that has never left me, in meetings I am still inclined to make comments and remarks. My saving grace has been that more often than not I have made people laugh. Sometimes they laugh at me and sometimes they laugh with me.
My freshman year of college one of my professors asked the class if there were any fathers in the room. I said "not yet, but I am in the market" or something along those lines. I really do not remember. The only reason I remember it is because I periodically run into a couple of people from that class and they always tell me how funny it was. I wish that I could remember it, because you can never have too many funny lines.
Back in my dating days I would woo women with humor and communication. I know that makes me sound kind of ridiculous, but make her laugh and tell her your thoughts when the other guy cannot and you have yourself a very happy woman.
Yesterday I told my son that I was going to eat his neck. He looked at me with eyes like saucers and said "Abba, don't do that, my head will fall off." I laughed and had to smile. Today he told me that if I ate his tushy I would get a mouthful of "pee and poop."
As soon as he finished saying that he started giggling hysterically. My son loves potty humor, he must be related to me. I was impressed that he came up with that on his own, not bad for a boy not quite four-years-old. He is smarter than I am, so much smarter than I am.
I see his mind moving, it is working all of the time, he sponges up knowledge the way a Hummer sucks down gas. I am fast on my feet, but I think that he'll be faster.
The lines between the last paragraph and this one are not blank. I used invisible blog lettering (IBL) to leave a secret message. Let's see if any of the members of Mensa that haunt my blog can decode it.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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6 comments:
Nope... not seeing the secret message. I guess I'll have to turn in my Mensa card (heck, it wasn't good for much besides winning bar bets anyway!). :-)
~treppenwitz~
Does it say... Happy Chanukah? Or maybe Alice go to work. You are late because you are reading Jack's blog? Have a good day everyone.
All I see is br br br br br with a few greater than or less than symbols... maybe a division symbol or two!
Of course, I am being facetious!
Jack, I share your insomnia and your respect for humor in all its forms. And since I've made the acquaintance of my friends' children, I have a new perspective on the relationship between truth, discovery and humor. Your son sounds like he has a natural inclination toward humorous observation (apples not falling far from trees)....
And if only I could find a man who wooed me with humor and communication, I'd retire my singles column.
Hi Esther,
I'd be happy to pick up your singles column. I'd be happy to write for you. Of course your readers would notice a distinct change in style and commenting, but it could be fun. On the other hand it could be the end of your column, but life is all about risks. ;)
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