I haven’t posted in a while: 2010 was a bad, bad year, and this blog was a minor casualty.
It all went downhill after my 50th birthday in April—which as actually pretty cool. I suffered from minor but persistent health problems, as well as major but persistent professional problems, and I had to say goodbye to a couple of people I really wasn’t ready to say goodbye to.
Anyway, despite the implication in Hamlet’s soliloquy (and my own dim memories of 11th grade English) ‘quietus’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘goodbye’ or ‘exit’. It also means “a final settlement” or “the end of an argument.” To wit:
_________________________________________
Ray Bradbury, SF author par excellence tells the following story:
“A horrible little boy came up to me one day and said: ‘You know your book The Martian Chronicles?’
I said: ‘Yes’?
He said, ‘You know where you have Deimos [one of the Martian moons] rising in the East?’
I said, ‘Yes.’
He said, ‘Nope.’
So I hit him.
__________________________________________________________
Now THAT, friends, is quietus.
The cutting remark that leaves no room for a snappy comeback. The sharp observation that completely ends the argument. The conversational climax that leaves no room for a coda. These bring quietus.
Quietus is the sort of thing that leaves no room for response. And, of course, that results in an Awkward Silence.
______________________________________
Lawyers are lectured at some length on the importance of recognizing WHEN an argument is over…that is, when to stop asking questions. She Whom It Would Be Well Advised to Consult Before Making Any Major Decisions tells the following story about a lawyer who should have realized when to shut up:
The defense attorney had the witness on the ropes: “So you claim that my client grabbed the victim, shook him violently, and bit his nose clean off?”
“That’s right,” said the witness.
“Did you actually see my client grab the victim?” demanded the attorney.
“No,” said the witness.
“Did you see my client shake the victim?” roared the attorney.
“No, I didn’t” said the witness.
“Did you in fact see my client bite of the victim’s nose?” shrieked the attorney.
“No, I did not,” said the witness.
Now a smart attorney would have known to stop there. Quietus. End of argument. But the attorney pressed his luck:
“If all that is true,” demanded the attorney, “then how do you know my client bit the victim’s nose off at all?”
“Because,” snapped the witness, “I saw him spit it out!”
______________________________________________
And then there is the following. It was voted the funniest joke in the world (no, really) as part of the LaughLab project and appears to have been created in a slightly different form by Spike Milligan for The Goon Show.
Two hunters are out in the woods, when suddenly one of them grabs his chest, groans, and collapses. His buddy whips out his cell phone and dials 9-1-1.
“Hello,” says a crisp, competent voice on the other end.
“Listen,” says the hunter. “It’s my friend. He’s dead! What can I do?”
“Calm down,” says the operator. “I can help. First, let’s make sure he’s really dead.”
There is a pause. Then a gunshot is heard. The hunter comes back to the phone.
“Okay,” he says. “Now what?”
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, October 4, 2010
P is for Pets
“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read.”
Groucho Marx
____________________________
Pets are funny for a couple of reasons: first because they behave like humans, and second because they DON’T behave like humans.
We laugh with recognition when a beloved pet tries to “use” the computer, or shows an “almost human” awareness. On the other hand, it also amuses us to see how little a canary cares about money, or how a cat spills water on electronics. (I'll tell you all about it later.)
I haven’t the statistics on tap, but seems pretty obvious that where many animals were originally domesticated to work for humans, those jobs are mostly done by machines today. Those domesticated animals are mostly kept as pets.
Yes, that’s right, animals were thrown out of work by automation.
The life of the wild animal versus the pet is particularly important to moralists and to folks like the people of PETA.
Wild animals need to hunt for every meal and a safe place to sleep. Pets are well fed and have a warm place to sleep (unless they’re fish, in which case they don’t want a warm place, and may not even sleep—I’m not sure.)
Wild animals are always in fear of whatever animal is higher up on the food chain. Pets don’t have to worry about predators—but on the other hand, they are frequently spay or neutered.
Let’s call it a wash.
____________________________________
After some thought, a woman selected a parrot from the pet store. The pet store owner warned the woman that she was not the parrot’s first owner. He’d been kept for years by a navy man, and had learned some bad habits. Bluntly, the parrot swore, well, like a sailor.
Despite this warning, the woman brought Polly home.
Within an hour, the mail carrier came, delivering the post. The woman brought out Polly to meet the mail man.
“#$@@!” said the parrot.
The postman smiled, and left quickly.
“Now, Polly, that wasn’t nice,” said the woman. “You mustn’t talk like that.”
Later that day, a neighbor appeared at the door to borrow a cup of sugar.
“#$@%!” said the parrot.
The neighbor gasped, dropped her measuring cup, and fled.
“Polly, I don’t want to have to warn you again,” said the woman. “Nice birds don’t speak that way. Now, the pastor is coming to visit this evening…if you don’t mind your language, I’ll have to punish you!”
That evening, the pastor comes by. He rings the doorbell, and the parrot shouts out:
“#&^@!!!” said the parrot.
Well, that was it. The woman apologized to the pastor, grabbed the parrot, shoved it into the freezer and slammed the door shut behind the bird.
After about ten minutes, a timid knocking came on the door of the freezer. The woman opened the freezer door and found the parrot, shivering and dispirited, standing in there.
“I’m sorry I spoke the way I did,” said the parrot.
“Well, you should be,” said the woman.
“If I promise never to speak that way again, will you let me out?” asked the bird.
“Yes,” said the woman.
“Okay,” said the bird. “I promise.” The parrot hopped out of the cage and onto the woman’s shoulder.
The parrot stood silently for a few minutes. Then he cleared his throat.
“I understand why you locked me in the freezer,” said the bird.
“You left me no choice,” said the woman.
“I know,” said the parrot. “I’ve just got one question: What did the chicken do?”
_________________________________
An elderly lady was walking down the beach one day, when she found a bottle. She rubbed the bottle, and a genie emerged.
“Thank you for freeing me,” said the genie. “You know, as a thank you, you get three wishes.”
“Three wishes, really?” said the old woman delightedly (she had apparently read very few fairy tales). “All right, my first wish: I wish I were young and beautiful again.”
The genie clapped his hands, and in a flash, the old woman was once again 23 years old, and she was absolutely ravishing.
“Second,’ said the woman. ‘I wish that I was fabulously wealthy.”
The genie clapped his hands, and in a flash, the woman has become the weathiest woman in the world.
“Third,” says the woman, “I want Tommy-boy, my beloved cat, to be turned into a handsome young man who is wildly in love with me.”
The genie claps his hands, and in a flash the woman’s spoiled Persian has been turned into a tall, handsome young man. The young man grabs the woman in his arms and kisses her passionately. Then, holding her faces inches from her own, he murmers: “Darling! Aren’t you sorry now you had me fixed?”
Groucho Marx
____________________________
Pets are funny for a couple of reasons: first because they behave like humans, and second because they DON’T behave like humans.
We laugh with recognition when a beloved pet tries to “use” the computer, or shows an “almost human” awareness. On the other hand, it also amuses us to see how little a canary cares about money, or how a cat spills water on electronics. (I'll tell you all about it later.)
I haven’t the statistics on tap, but seems pretty obvious that where many animals were originally domesticated to work for humans, those jobs are mostly done by machines today. Those domesticated animals are mostly kept as pets.
Yes, that’s right, animals were thrown out of work by automation.
The life of the wild animal versus the pet is particularly important to moralists and to folks like the people of PETA.
Wild animals need to hunt for every meal and a safe place to sleep. Pets are well fed and have a warm place to sleep (unless they’re fish, in which case they don’t want a warm place, and may not even sleep—I’m not sure.)
Wild animals are always in fear of whatever animal is higher up on the food chain. Pets don’t have to worry about predators—but on the other hand, they are frequently spay or neutered.
Let’s call it a wash.
____________________________________
After some thought, a woman selected a parrot from the pet store. The pet store owner warned the woman that she was not the parrot’s first owner. He’d been kept for years by a navy man, and had learned some bad habits. Bluntly, the parrot swore, well, like a sailor.
Despite this warning, the woman brought Polly home.
Within an hour, the mail carrier came, delivering the post. The woman brought out Polly to meet the mail man.
“#$@@!” said the parrot.
The postman smiled, and left quickly.
“Now, Polly, that wasn’t nice,” said the woman. “You mustn’t talk like that.”
Later that day, a neighbor appeared at the door to borrow a cup of sugar.
“#$@%!” said the parrot.
The neighbor gasped, dropped her measuring cup, and fled.
“Polly, I don’t want to have to warn you again,” said the woman. “Nice birds don’t speak that way. Now, the pastor is coming to visit this evening…if you don’t mind your language, I’ll have to punish you!”
That evening, the pastor comes by. He rings the doorbell, and the parrot shouts out:
“#&^@!!!” said the parrot.
Well, that was it. The woman apologized to the pastor, grabbed the parrot, shoved it into the freezer and slammed the door shut behind the bird.
After about ten minutes, a timid knocking came on the door of the freezer. The woman opened the freezer door and found the parrot, shivering and dispirited, standing in there.
“I’m sorry I spoke the way I did,” said the parrot.
“Well, you should be,” said the woman.
“If I promise never to speak that way again, will you let me out?” asked the bird.
“Yes,” said the woman.
“Okay,” said the bird. “I promise.” The parrot hopped out of the cage and onto the woman’s shoulder.
The parrot stood silently for a few minutes. Then he cleared his throat.
“I understand why you locked me in the freezer,” said the bird.
“You left me no choice,” said the woman.
“I know,” said the parrot. “I’ve just got one question: What did the chicken do?”
_________________________________
An elderly lady was walking down the beach one day, when she found a bottle. She rubbed the bottle, and a genie emerged.
“Thank you for freeing me,” said the genie. “You know, as a thank you, you get three wishes.”
“Three wishes, really?” said the old woman delightedly (she had apparently read very few fairy tales). “All right, my first wish: I wish I were young and beautiful again.”
The genie clapped his hands, and in a flash, the old woman was once again 23 years old, and she was absolutely ravishing.
“Second,’ said the woman. ‘I wish that I was fabulously wealthy.”
The genie clapped his hands, and in a flash, the woman has become the weathiest woman in the world.
“Third,” says the woman, “I want Tommy-boy, my beloved cat, to be turned into a handsome young man who is wildly in love with me.”
The genie claps his hands, and in a flash the woman’s spoiled Persian has been turned into a tall, handsome young man. The young man grabs the woman in his arms and kisses her passionately. Then, holding her faces inches from her own, he murmers: “Darling! Aren’t you sorry now you had me fixed?”
Friday, September 17, 2010
O is for Old Age
“It seems to me that getting old is like falling down a very deep well in the dark. It’s an exhilarating, if slightly terrifying trip. You might even be able to enjoy yourself, if it weren’t for the screams of the people hitting the bottom in front of you.”
_______________________________________
“We mock the things we are to be.” Mel Brooks said that in his persona as the 2000 Year Old Man. (Who must have actually been much older if he remembered living in caves before there was spoken language.)
Old age is a continuing source of humor—primarily of the whistling in the dark variety. “Look at those funny people all bent over and spitting!” And the next thing you know, we’re bent over and spitting.
Old age triggers fear—fear of death, fear of losing our facilities….fear of losing ourselves. And THAT is why we’re constantly telling jokes about it.
_______________________________________
Mr. Smith is talking to Mr. Jenkins at his palatial apartment in Miami.
“It’s too bad you couldn’t join us for dinner last night,” Smith says. “We went to this incredible new restaurant. Excellent food, great wine, and very reasonable prices.”
“Oh?” says Mr. Jenkins, “What was the name of the restaurant?”
“It was called…called….Oh, hell! What’s the name of that red flower with thorns?”
“You mean ‘rose’?”
“That’s it!” Smith called into the next room: “Rose! What’s the name of the restaurant we went to last night?”
_________________________________________
Frankly, as I continue to lose hair, teeth and brain cells, I think longingly of those societies we’re always told about. You know, where old people are admired and looked up to for their “wisdom.”
I keep wondering if people in those societies dye their hair grey, deliberately walk as bent over as possible, and wear glasses that don’t actually correct their vision. They probably have makeup that leaves their skin blotchy, too.
________________________________________
Mr. and Mrs. Jones were celebrating their 50th anniversary, and they gathered at their home to celebrate with their three children and various grandchildren. The party continued for some time until finally the time came to present the senior Joneses with their gifts.
The oldest son stood up first. “Mom, Dad,” he said. “You know that I’ve suffered a number of business reverses in the last year or so. I just wasn’t able to buy you a gift.”
The younger son stood up next: “Mother, Father,” he said. “All three of our kids are in college at that same time now. We just couldn’t afford to buy you a gift this year.”
The daughter stood up next” “Ma, Pa,” she said. “After 50 years, I knew that there was nothing that you really need or want. So I didn’t bring a gift, only my love.”
Mr. and Mrs. Jones looked at each other. Then Mr. Jones stood up, cleared his throat, and said the following:
“Your mother and I want to thank you for all your kind wishes. And there’s something we thought we’d share with you after all these years. Your mother and I…well, we never actually got married.”
There was startled murmuring from the gathering.
“Yes, it’s true,” insisted Mr. Jones. “Which only goes to prove: not only are you a bunch of bastards, you’re a bunch of CHEAP bastards!”
___________________________________
Not only do I really like that joke, but I always remember the time my father in law told it. My F-I-L is a very nice man with a good sense of humor, and is a decorated war hero who could kill me with his little finger. (Well, maybe not anymore: he’s got arthritis).
But he should NOT tell jokes.
Some time ago, he told the above story at a family gathering (it may even have been to celebrate his anniversary). He told the joke pretty much as written above, except he forgot to include the bit about Mr. and Mrs. Jones never having gotten married.
The result was, he came to the punch line, and proclaimed:
“And Mr. Jones says: ‘You’re all a bunch of cheap bastards!’”
Then he sat back, with a huge grin on his face, surveying the confused faces of his family and waiting for his laugh.
Ahhhh, the Awkward Silence.
_______________________________________
“We mock the things we are to be.” Mel Brooks said that in his persona as the 2000 Year Old Man. (Who must have actually been much older if he remembered living in caves before there was spoken language.)
Old age is a continuing source of humor—primarily of the whistling in the dark variety. “Look at those funny people all bent over and spitting!” And the next thing you know, we’re bent over and spitting.
Old age triggers fear—fear of death, fear of losing our facilities….fear of losing ourselves. And THAT is why we’re constantly telling jokes about it.
_______________________________________
Mr. Smith is talking to Mr. Jenkins at his palatial apartment in Miami.
“It’s too bad you couldn’t join us for dinner last night,” Smith says. “We went to this incredible new restaurant. Excellent food, great wine, and very reasonable prices.”
“Oh?” says Mr. Jenkins, “What was the name of the restaurant?”
“It was called…called….Oh, hell! What’s the name of that red flower with thorns?”
“You mean ‘rose’?”
“That’s it!” Smith called into the next room: “Rose! What’s the name of the restaurant we went to last night?”
_________________________________________
Frankly, as I continue to lose hair, teeth and brain cells, I think longingly of those societies we’re always told about. You know, where old people are admired and looked up to for their “wisdom.”
I keep wondering if people in those societies dye their hair grey, deliberately walk as bent over as possible, and wear glasses that don’t actually correct their vision. They probably have makeup that leaves their skin blotchy, too.
________________________________________
Mr. and Mrs. Jones were celebrating their 50th anniversary, and they gathered at their home to celebrate with their three children and various grandchildren. The party continued for some time until finally the time came to present the senior Joneses with their gifts.
The oldest son stood up first. “Mom, Dad,” he said. “You know that I’ve suffered a number of business reverses in the last year or so. I just wasn’t able to buy you a gift.”
The younger son stood up next: “Mother, Father,” he said. “All three of our kids are in college at that same time now. We just couldn’t afford to buy you a gift this year.”
The daughter stood up next” “Ma, Pa,” she said. “After 50 years, I knew that there was nothing that you really need or want. So I didn’t bring a gift, only my love.”
Mr. and Mrs. Jones looked at each other. Then Mr. Jones stood up, cleared his throat, and said the following:
“Your mother and I want to thank you for all your kind wishes. And there’s something we thought we’d share with you after all these years. Your mother and I…well, we never actually got married.”
There was startled murmuring from the gathering.
“Yes, it’s true,” insisted Mr. Jones. “Which only goes to prove: not only are you a bunch of bastards, you’re a bunch of CHEAP bastards!”
___________________________________
Not only do I really like that joke, but I always remember the time my father in law told it. My F-I-L is a very nice man with a good sense of humor, and is a decorated war hero who could kill me with his little finger. (Well, maybe not anymore: he’s got arthritis).
But he should NOT tell jokes.
Some time ago, he told the above story at a family gathering (it may even have been to celebrate his anniversary). He told the joke pretty much as written above, except he forgot to include the bit about Mr. and Mrs. Jones never having gotten married.
The result was, he came to the punch line, and proclaimed:
“And Mr. Jones says: ‘You’re all a bunch of cheap bastards!’”
Then he sat back, with a huge grin on his face, surveying the confused faces of his family and waiting for his laugh.
Ahhhh, the Awkward Silence.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
M as in Money
"There is nothing quite as wonderful as money.
There is nothing like the newly minted pound.
Everyone must hanker for the butchness of a banker,
It's accountancy that makes the world go round."
--Eric Idle
___________________________
There’s nothing particularly funny about money.
Well, except that the portraits are often pretty silly.
And the fact that a penny costs the government more than one cent is worth a grin.
And the idea that in order to make American currency harder to counterfeit they made it look exactly like Monopoly money is frankly hysterical.
IN GENERAL, money isn’t funny.
But the PURSUIT of money is one of the most consistently funny things in the world.
Cash is, after all, nothing more than the bookkeeping tokens of an elaborate bartering system. This way, you don’t have to ask your neighbor if he’s got change for a goat.
Since money is a medium of exchange, the pursuit of money (the root of all evil, as we know) can be a sublimated pursuit of power or sex—and those are pretty funny, too.
______________________
A newly married couple has fallen upon hard times. The husband has fallen ill and needs expensive medicine. The wife, although good-hearted and beautiful, has no marketable skills, and her job as a waitress doesn’t bring in nearly enough money for the couple to live on.
So, after many tears and much anger, the wife determines that she will turn to streetwalking to earn the money the family needs for food and medicine.
The wife departs at 8 pm, and returns at 2 am. She rushes to her husband, who embraces her with tears in his eyes.
“Darling, I did it!” says the wife.
“You made money, then?” the husband asks.
“Yes,” says the wife. “I made three hundred and fifty dollars and twenty-five cents!”
The husband stares. “Twenty-five cents?” he demands. “Who gave you twenty-five cents?”
The wife smiles brightly: “EVERYBODY!” she says.
___________________________________
There IS a fictional character who loves money, not for what it can buy, but for its own sake. That character is Walt Disney’s Scrooge McDuck, created by writer/artist Carl Barks in the middle of the last century. Looking for all the world like Donald Duck dressed for a road show production of A Christmas Carol, Scrooge is the richest duck in a world of anthropomorphic animals.
Now, I never found Scrooge to be the “richly comic character” described by his fans. But his exploits WERE pretty funny, especially as it became clear that Scrooge really didn’t care about WEALTH, he cared about MONEY…he kept huge stacks of the stuff, including his giant money bin. It was several stories tall, full of coins and paper money, and Scrooge would literally dive into, while chanting this litany:
“I like to dive around in my money like a porpoise, and burrow through it like a gopher…and toss it up and let it hit me on the head!”
At one point, someone tried to imitate Scrooge and dive headlong into the cash pile himself. The character ended up—not surprisingly—with a busted noggin. He demanded an explanation from Scrooge, who admitted: “It’s a trick.”
______________________________
A long time ago in Europe, there lived a wily peddler by the name of Igor. One day, Igor heard of a far away land where spices and herbs were unknown. Why, this place had didn’t even have onions!
Well, this was an opportunity too good to go to waste! Igor gathered all the funds he could, selling his possessions and borrowing from friends and family, and bought an entire wagonload of onions. He took his pack animal and made his way, over many weeks, to the faraway land.
Igor presented himself to the royal palace, and to the king of this drab kingdom. He said to the king, “I have with me a remarkable vegetable—it will improve the taste of almost any food, and although strong, can even be eaten by itself.”
Well, the king was as tired of dull food as everyone else in the kingdom, so Igor was granted access to the royal kitchens. Igor worked an entire day, making stews, salads, sandwiches and other dishes (not all of which began with “s”) with his onions. At the end of the day, he brought all the dishes before the king.
The king was no fool, of course. He insisted that others try the food first. First Igor himself ate a bit of each dish, then the servants, then the nobles, and then the Queen. Each declared the food delicious. (It was lucky that he didn’t give the food to the notoriously picky Prince Louis, or this joke might have a different ending.)
Finally, the king himself took a bite of a simple salad garnished with onion. A smile of joy spread over his face. “This is the most miraculous vegetable of all time! We will reward you!”
And indeed, after taking possession of the wagon-load of onions, the king cast about for the riches of the land. Ultimately, Igor was rewarded with a wagon-load of silver.
Igor returned to his home land in triumph. He repaid his debts, bought a beautiful home for himself and his family, and settled down to a privileged existence.
It wasn’t long before the news of Igor’s fortune reached the ears of another wily peddler named Fritz. Fritz thought there must be a way that he could get a piece of this action, and it occurred to him that, if onions were so valuable, garlic would be even more so. After all, it was smaller, could be carried dried, and didn’t make you cry when you cut it.
So Fritz gathered all the funds he could, selling his possessions and borrowing from friends and family. He bought ten sacks of garlic and made his way to the faraway land.
Like Igor before him, Fritz presented himself to the royal palace and to the king of the faraway kingdom. He said to the king, “I have brought a remarkable vegetable. It, too, improves the taste of almost any food!”
Fritz was granted access to the royal kitchens and prepared several dishes featuring garlic. At the end of the day, he brought the dishes before the king. Once again, the king insisted that others taste the food first, but eventually the king tried garlic. He almost wept in delight. “THIS, he said,” is the most remarkable vegetable of all time!”
So the king cast about for the riches of the land to give Fritz in return for his ten sacks of garlic. After much discussion, the peddler received the most valuable gift they could conceive of: Ten sacks of onions.
There is nothing like the newly minted pound.
Everyone must hanker for the butchness of a banker,
It's accountancy that makes the world go round."
--Eric Idle
___________________________
There’s nothing particularly funny about money.
Well, except that the portraits are often pretty silly.
And the fact that a penny costs the government more than one cent is worth a grin.
And the idea that in order to make American currency harder to counterfeit they made it look exactly like Monopoly money is frankly hysterical.
IN GENERAL, money isn’t funny.
But the PURSUIT of money is one of the most consistently funny things in the world.
Cash is, after all, nothing more than the bookkeeping tokens of an elaborate bartering system. This way, you don’t have to ask your neighbor if he’s got change for a goat.
Since money is a medium of exchange, the pursuit of money (the root of all evil, as we know) can be a sublimated pursuit of power or sex—and those are pretty funny, too.
______________________
A newly married couple has fallen upon hard times. The husband has fallen ill and needs expensive medicine. The wife, although good-hearted and beautiful, has no marketable skills, and her job as a waitress doesn’t bring in nearly enough money for the couple to live on.
So, after many tears and much anger, the wife determines that she will turn to streetwalking to earn the money the family needs for food and medicine.
The wife departs at 8 pm, and returns at 2 am. She rushes to her husband, who embraces her with tears in his eyes.
“Darling, I did it!” says the wife.
“You made money, then?” the husband asks.
“Yes,” says the wife. “I made three hundred and fifty dollars and twenty-five cents!”
The husband stares. “Twenty-five cents?” he demands. “Who gave you twenty-five cents?”
The wife smiles brightly: “EVERYBODY!” she says.
___________________________________
There IS a fictional character who loves money, not for what it can buy, but for its own sake. That character is Walt Disney’s Scrooge McDuck, created by writer/artist Carl Barks in the middle of the last century. Looking for all the world like Donald Duck dressed for a road show production of A Christmas Carol, Scrooge is the richest duck in a world of anthropomorphic animals.
Now, I never found Scrooge to be the “richly comic character” described by his fans. But his exploits WERE pretty funny, especially as it became clear that Scrooge really didn’t care about WEALTH, he cared about MONEY…he kept huge stacks of the stuff, including his giant money bin. It was several stories tall, full of coins and paper money, and Scrooge would literally dive into, while chanting this litany:
“I like to dive around in my money like a porpoise, and burrow through it like a gopher…and toss it up and let it hit me on the head!”
At one point, someone tried to imitate Scrooge and dive headlong into the cash pile himself. The character ended up—not surprisingly—with a busted noggin. He demanded an explanation from Scrooge, who admitted: “It’s a trick.”
______________________________
A long time ago in Europe, there lived a wily peddler by the name of Igor. One day, Igor heard of a far away land where spices and herbs were unknown. Why, this place had didn’t even have onions!
Well, this was an opportunity too good to go to waste! Igor gathered all the funds he could, selling his possessions and borrowing from friends and family, and bought an entire wagonload of onions. He took his pack animal and made his way, over many weeks, to the faraway land.
Igor presented himself to the royal palace, and to the king of this drab kingdom. He said to the king, “I have with me a remarkable vegetable—it will improve the taste of almost any food, and although strong, can even be eaten by itself.”
Well, the king was as tired of dull food as everyone else in the kingdom, so Igor was granted access to the royal kitchens. Igor worked an entire day, making stews, salads, sandwiches and other dishes (not all of which began with “s”) with his onions. At the end of the day, he brought all the dishes before the king.
The king was no fool, of course. He insisted that others try the food first. First Igor himself ate a bit of each dish, then the servants, then the nobles, and then the Queen. Each declared the food delicious. (It was lucky that he didn’t give the food to the notoriously picky Prince Louis, or this joke might have a different ending.)
Finally, the king himself took a bite of a simple salad garnished with onion. A smile of joy spread over his face. “This is the most miraculous vegetable of all time! We will reward you!”
And indeed, after taking possession of the wagon-load of onions, the king cast about for the riches of the land. Ultimately, Igor was rewarded with a wagon-load of silver.
Igor returned to his home land in triumph. He repaid his debts, bought a beautiful home for himself and his family, and settled down to a privileged existence.
It wasn’t long before the news of Igor’s fortune reached the ears of another wily peddler named Fritz. Fritz thought there must be a way that he could get a piece of this action, and it occurred to him that, if onions were so valuable, garlic would be even more so. After all, it was smaller, could be carried dried, and didn’t make you cry when you cut it.
So Fritz gathered all the funds he could, selling his possessions and borrowing from friends and family. He bought ten sacks of garlic and made his way to the faraway land.
Like Igor before him, Fritz presented himself to the royal palace and to the king of the faraway kingdom. He said to the king, “I have brought a remarkable vegetable. It, too, improves the taste of almost any food!”
Fritz was granted access to the royal kitchens and prepared several dishes featuring garlic. At the end of the day, he brought the dishes before the king. Once again, the king insisted that others taste the food first, but eventually the king tried garlic. He almost wept in delight. “THIS, he said,” is the most remarkable vegetable of all time!”
So the king cast about for the riches of the land to give Fritz in return for his ten sacks of garlic. After much discussion, the peddler received the most valuable gift they could conceive of: Ten sacks of onions.
Monday, August 23, 2010
L is for Lawyer
Q: What do you do if you’re in the jungle, and you’re attacked by a lion, a hippopotamus and a lawyer, and you’ve only got two bullets in your rifle?
A: Shoot the lawyer twice.
____________________________
Ahhh, nobody likes lawyers. Oh, we may like individual lawyers (especially if we happen to be, ahem, married to one). But as a class, I think they’re about as maligned as any group in the world.
For one thing, lawyers are perceived as being rich and powerful. They have high status. And, as discussed in previous blog entries, high-status people are ripe for being taken down a peg. The epitome of slapstick may still be a rich man getting a pie in the face.
(Hey, I wonder if throwing pies is simply sublimating the urge to hurl – um, other stuff -- the way our primate relatives do? And why am I wasting thoughts like that in a parenthetical remark when I could stretch it into an entire column?)
______________________________
A billionaire needs to hire a personal assistant. His search team eventually narrows the applicants down to three choices: a mathematician, an economist and a lawyer. The billionaire decides to conduct the final interview himself. He invites the mathematician into his office and asks:
“How much is two plus two?”
The mathematician whips out his calculator, punches numbers furiously for a good forty-five seconds and announces triumphantly: “Four!”
The billionaire kicks out the mathematician and calls in the economist. He asks her:
“How much is two plus two?”
The economist whips out a book of charts and statistical tables, looks in the index, flips to the proper page and proclaims, “according to our latest surveys, somewhere between three and five!”
The billionaire kicks her out and calls in the lawyer. He asks him:
“How much is two plus two?”
The lawyer closes the office door. He pulls the shades. He takes the phone off the hook and turns up a radio very loudly. He tiptoes up to the billionaire and whispers in his ear:
“How much do you want it to be?”
___________________________
So there’s the whole position of power thing about lawyers. There’s this, too. The work that they do seems ever more necessary in the 21st century, and the work that they do is ever more opaque to the non-attorney.
Lawyers are taught to look for loopholes. That’s the way they work. It is not enough for something a document to appear to say something—the document has to say something exactly, precisely, and without any possibility of misinterpretation.
(This is why the disclaimers at the bottom of your TV screen are 10 paragraphs long. Every sentence is the result of a lawsuit claiming that something was unclear.)
Lawyers therefore become skilled in what’s called arguing in the alternative—something that makes perfect sense to attorneys, but can cause other people’s head to explode. Because lawyers want to cover every possible permutation, they can write sentences like the following and not crack a smile: “I never borrowed that, it was broken when I got it, and I returned it in perfect working condition.”
No wonder other people can’t stand them!
_____________________________
A doctor, a civil engineer and a lawyer are traveling on vacation when their car breaks down. They are forced to spend the night at a small farm. The farmer informs them that, while there is room for two of the travelers, the third will have to stay in the barn with the pigs and cows. And the barn, the farmer warns, hasn’t been cleaned in quite some time.
The doctor says, “Listen, I’m a doctor. I’m used to blood and excrement, and just about anything unpleasant that the body can produce. I’ll stay in the barn.” So the doctor goes out to the barn.
About two hours later, there’s a knock on the farm door. There’s the doctor, standing there looking terribly unhappy. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but I just can’t stay out there with all those pigs and cows.”
The civil engineer says, “Heck, I build sewers for a living. There isn’t a smell I haven’t dealt with. I’ll stay in the barn.” So the civil engineer goes out to the barn.
About an hour later, there’s a knock on the farm door. There’s the civil engineer standing there, looking terribly unhappy. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but I just can’t stay out there with all those pigs and cows.”
The lawyer says, “Well, you guys have given it a shot, I suppose it’s my turn. I’ll stay in the barn.” So the lawyer goes out to the barn.
About a half hour later, there’s a knock on the farm door. There’s a bunch of pigs and cows standing there.
_________________________
When my wife the attorney was younger, she made it a practice to keep her passport in her office. Because, hey, you never know when you might have to make a business trip in a hurry—and the attorney with the passport gets to make the trip to some exotic locale.
Sure enough, when she was still quite a fledging attorney, there arose a need for someone to fly to Zurich, Switzerland to witness a transaction. My wife, happily waving her passport, volunteered for the job, and before you can you can say “Transatlantic Flight” was winging her way to the land of cuckoo clocks.
Well, my wife arrived in Zurich, checked into a hotel, and made her way to the office building where she signed off on the multimillion dollar transaction she’d helped negotiate. The whole deal took about 18 hours, including the time my wife spent buying every bar of chocolate within a 5 mile radius to fulfill the orders of her colleagues in the office and her friends and family at home.
Exhausted, my wife booked a flight back to New York the day after she arrived. She soon found herself on the receiving end of a suspicious look from a Swiss Customs Officer.
Here was a young woman—looking much younger than the 25 years on her passport—with dark circles under her eyes and vague expression. Not only that, but her only suitcase was packed with what appeared to be dozens of bars of chocolate.
“I see you’ve only been in Switzerland for a single day,” said the suspicious guard. “What brought you here?”
“Business,” my wife replied shortly.
“Business, eh?” said the Customs Official. “What is your business?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” said the guard, a note of disbelief in his voice. “Why didn’t the shark eat the lawyer?”
“Professional courtesy!” snapped my wife.
The guard laughed. “I guess you are a lawyer at that!” and waved her through.
A: Shoot the lawyer twice.
____________________________
Ahhh, nobody likes lawyers. Oh, we may like individual lawyers (especially if we happen to be, ahem, married to one). But as a class, I think they’re about as maligned as any group in the world.
For one thing, lawyers are perceived as being rich and powerful. They have high status. And, as discussed in previous blog entries, high-status people are ripe for being taken down a peg. The epitome of slapstick may still be a rich man getting a pie in the face.
(Hey, I wonder if throwing pies is simply sublimating the urge to hurl – um, other stuff -- the way our primate relatives do? And why am I wasting thoughts like that in a parenthetical remark when I could stretch it into an entire column?)
______________________________
A billionaire needs to hire a personal assistant. His search team eventually narrows the applicants down to three choices: a mathematician, an economist and a lawyer. The billionaire decides to conduct the final interview himself. He invites the mathematician into his office and asks:
“How much is two plus two?”
The mathematician whips out his calculator, punches numbers furiously for a good forty-five seconds and announces triumphantly: “Four!”
The billionaire kicks out the mathematician and calls in the economist. He asks her:
“How much is two plus two?”
The economist whips out a book of charts and statistical tables, looks in the index, flips to the proper page and proclaims, “according to our latest surveys, somewhere between three and five!”
The billionaire kicks her out and calls in the lawyer. He asks him:
“How much is two plus two?”
The lawyer closes the office door. He pulls the shades. He takes the phone off the hook and turns up a radio very loudly. He tiptoes up to the billionaire and whispers in his ear:
“How much do you want it to be?”
___________________________
So there’s the whole position of power thing about lawyers. There’s this, too. The work that they do seems ever more necessary in the 21st century, and the work that they do is ever more opaque to the non-attorney.
Lawyers are taught to look for loopholes. That’s the way they work. It is not enough for something a document to appear to say something—the document has to say something exactly, precisely, and without any possibility of misinterpretation.
(This is why the disclaimers at the bottom of your TV screen are 10 paragraphs long. Every sentence is the result of a lawsuit claiming that something was unclear.)
Lawyers therefore become skilled in what’s called arguing in the alternative—something that makes perfect sense to attorneys, but can cause other people’s head to explode. Because lawyers want to cover every possible permutation, they can write sentences like the following and not crack a smile: “I never borrowed that, it was broken when I got it, and I returned it in perfect working condition.”
No wonder other people can’t stand them!
_____________________________
A doctor, a civil engineer and a lawyer are traveling on vacation when their car breaks down. They are forced to spend the night at a small farm. The farmer informs them that, while there is room for two of the travelers, the third will have to stay in the barn with the pigs and cows. And the barn, the farmer warns, hasn’t been cleaned in quite some time.
The doctor says, “Listen, I’m a doctor. I’m used to blood and excrement, and just about anything unpleasant that the body can produce. I’ll stay in the barn.” So the doctor goes out to the barn.
About two hours later, there’s a knock on the farm door. There’s the doctor, standing there looking terribly unhappy. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but I just can’t stay out there with all those pigs and cows.”
The civil engineer says, “Heck, I build sewers for a living. There isn’t a smell I haven’t dealt with. I’ll stay in the barn.” So the civil engineer goes out to the barn.
About an hour later, there’s a knock on the farm door. There’s the civil engineer standing there, looking terribly unhappy. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but I just can’t stay out there with all those pigs and cows.”
The lawyer says, “Well, you guys have given it a shot, I suppose it’s my turn. I’ll stay in the barn.” So the lawyer goes out to the barn.
About a half hour later, there’s a knock on the farm door. There’s a bunch of pigs and cows standing there.
_________________________
When my wife the attorney was younger, she made it a practice to keep her passport in her office. Because, hey, you never know when you might have to make a business trip in a hurry—and the attorney with the passport gets to make the trip to some exotic locale.
Sure enough, when she was still quite a fledging attorney, there arose a need for someone to fly to Zurich, Switzerland to witness a transaction. My wife, happily waving her passport, volunteered for the job, and before you can you can say “Transatlantic Flight” was winging her way to the land of cuckoo clocks.
Well, my wife arrived in Zurich, checked into a hotel, and made her way to the office building where she signed off on the multimillion dollar transaction she’d helped negotiate. The whole deal took about 18 hours, including the time my wife spent buying every bar of chocolate within a 5 mile radius to fulfill the orders of her colleagues in the office and her friends and family at home.
Exhausted, my wife booked a flight back to New York the day after she arrived. She soon found herself on the receiving end of a suspicious look from a Swiss Customs Officer.
Here was a young woman—looking much younger than the 25 years on her passport—with dark circles under her eyes and vague expression. Not only that, but her only suitcase was packed with what appeared to be dozens of bars of chocolate.
“I see you’ve only been in Switzerland for a single day,” said the suspicious guard. “What brought you here?”
“Business,” my wife replied shortly.
“Business, eh?” said the Customs Official. “What is your business?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” said the guard, a note of disbelief in his voice. “Why didn’t the shark eat the lawyer?”
“Professional courtesy!” snapped my wife.
The guard laughed. “I guess you are a lawyer at that!” and waved her through.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
K as in Kangaroo and Koala
We’ve all heard about the baby kangaroo who got into trouble with his mother. He kept eating crackers in bed…
____________________________
Of course the word “kangaroo” is funny: it’s got a K in it! Neil Simon had this to say about the K sound in “The Sunshine Boys”:
"Words with ‘k’ in them are funny. Casey Stengel, that's a funny name. Robert Taylor is not funny. Cupcake is funny. Tomato is not funny. Cookie is funny. Cucumber is funny. Car keys. Cleveland . . . Cleveland is funny. Maryland is not funny. Then, there's chicken. Chicken is funny. Pickle is funny."
Not only is Kangaroo funny, but so is Koala and Kookaburra. Most of the animals in and around Australia look pretty funny, regardless of how they’re named. I think it’s because they evolved separately from the standard Asian/European/North American models.
But all those “k”s in their names? That’s just kookoo!
___________________________
The Koala Bear is the creation of somebody with a sense of humor. It isn’t a bear, of course, nor is it as cute and cuddly as it appears.
For the most part, it’s a slow and stupid beast. Unless, of course, someone approaches it as it hands there on a eucalyptus tree. Get too close, and the koala will lash out with inches long claws. Or sink its teeth into your arm—teeth which, although evolved to shred leaves, do a damned good job on flesh. And then, to add insult to injury, it will urinate on you with a particularly strong smelling substance that (despite the koala’s diet) smells less like eucalyptus than it does like, well, urine.
Now, that’s comedy.
___________________________
Stolen for a book title, but still worth repeating:
One day, a koala bear sits down in a small outdoor café. He orders a large hamburger and fries, which he devours with obvious pleasure. When the waiter brings the bill however, the koala whips out a pistol and fires. The waiter falls dead.
The café manager comes rushing out and demands, “what’s the matter with you? Why did you do that?”
The animal responds, “I’m a koala bear. Look it up in the dictionary” and departs.
The manger goes to the dictionary and looks up Koala Bear in the dictionary, and there he finds the following entry: “Koala Bear: Eats shoots and leaves.”
____________________
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