Life is a series of punch lines. For me, remembering those punch lines can cause trouble.
This morning, for instance, a series of thoughts crossed my mind, causing me to laugh almost uncontrollably in front of my wife.
My train of thought started out with a question posed by a friend of mine who asked something about an organization I referred to on this day ten years ago. I explained to him that the organization was headed by a preacher in Florida named Terry Jones; no relation to the late Terry Jones, a member of the humorous troupe of actors who performed on the BBC television series Monty Python’s Flying Circus. The Reverend Mr. Jones was one of those people who did not want his followers to know anything contrary to his own beliefs. At the time, he had strong-armed several sponsors of a television program about Islam into withdrawing their support. He made it a habit of his to go off the deep end from time to time about such things as other religions, welfare, socialism, race, and sex. In his opinion, not only did he want his followers to toe the “party line,” but he wanted others not belonging to his church to believe as he did, too. Especially if they were children.
Which led me to recall a fake book cover presented by Chris Shapan with the title: Danny Kay explains sex to your children.
The absurdity of Danny Kaye explaining sex to your children is what sent me into gales of laughter in front of my wife.
*****
The fake book cover was a punchline. Much of what inhabits the grey matter in my (extra-large) skull are punchlines:
- “And where does a three-year-old have easy access to water?”
- “Looks like him, but my brother ain’t that tall!
- “So the blind can hate him, too!”
- “To show the armadillo it can be done.”
- “Maybe I should have said DiMaggio?”
- “No soap, Radio!”
Punch lines are best when used in context – others are best delivered with a visual cue – still others make no sense at all but are funny because of the context.
I’ve spent a considerable portion of my life listening to jokes and punch lines. A friend of mine remarked on a trip we took from Texas to Ohio that I had, perhaps the largest repertoire of jokes of anyone he’s ever known.
I consider that to be a compliment.
Keep in mind that I was more than half the age I am while I am writing this when he made his statement. Many of the jokes were lost due to content (misogynistic or racially charged), others lost (again) in my size eight head.
Other punch lines came about because of a situation and not a joke. The line that “Christ quit” came about when a travelling Passion Play disbanded a thousand miles from one of the actors’ homes because the person playing Christ, quit. Now, there were other circumstances involved with Christ quitting a travelling Passion Play which will not be repeated here, but a simple “Christ quit” made for an effective punch line when I was told the story from one of the people involved. The incident hit the National Lampoon not long afterwards.
One other punch line which grabbed national attention was, “… the bandit glued the customers hands to the counter with superglue.” I knew one of the victims. He told the story to the local newspaper and the story made it to “Paul Harvey News!” (Paul was one who was always on the lookout for news stories with a punch line.)
The dog Filbrix provides me with a punch line. When someone tells me how pretty she is, my punchline is, “She knows it too, and that makes it difficult to live with her.”
Punch lines are usually associated with jokes, japes, and jests. Sometimes they can impart a lesson, as in the moral of a story. Sometimes they can be instructive. When people ask me about my years in radio, the punch line I give about what I was paid is, “Minimum wage and all the records I can eat.”
For the record (pun intended), records appear not to be used in radio any longer, nor are “live” disc jockeys. Everything is voice-tracked.
Meh.
Life is always a constant procession of lessons. Sometimes one is the student, other times one is the teacher. I’ve come to the conclusion over the years that everyone is someone else’s object lesson. “Don’t be like Joe Flabeets. He’s a drunk, you know.” Or, “So and so smoked like a chimney, and now he (or she) is about to die of lung cancer.”
I suppose those examples will be punch lines as well.
By the way, the headline to this little essay, “… and chocolate will kill you,” is a punch line of a gentler sort. It involves God, the designation of dogs as man’s best friend, and a God telling dog that dog will have two handicaps – dog cannot talk, and chocolate will kill him.”
That’s about it for the moment.
Be Seeing You
bdharrellauthor 