Category Archives: Humor

Articles of a comedic slant.

by

It Was Funny Then and It’s Funny Now

For Stoner

They still use these, too.

It’s good to know that while I tend to date myself everyday while teaching class (hardly any of my students catch the pop-culture easter eggs I work into my lectures, and my Back to the Future, Seinfeld and original Star Wars references just soar right over their heads), some things that were funny when I was in high school are still just as funny today.

It’s comforting, considering that so much of what shaped my sense of humor in my teenage years is completely foreign to teenagers today. Recently, I was recalling how many times my friends and I watched and quoted movies such as Tommy Boy, Billy Madison, and Ace Ventura: Pet Detective when we were in high school, and was shocked to find out that out of the five boys in the small group I lead, none had seen the first two and only two of them had seen the third. Over the last year, I’ve had to introduce them to such wonders as Black Adder, Mystery Science Theater 3000, and Bill Cosby: Himself when I learned that they could claim no knowledge of such comedy gems. I know there’s funny stuff out there these days (Andy Samberg, anyone?), but sometimes I’m saddened by how much of the humor I cherished when I was growing up has gone the way of the dinosaur (the dinosaur being me and my generation).

But tonight, I told these small group boys about a more personal source of humor when I was their age: my friend, Michael Stoner. I told them about the way Michael could sit through an entire meal without saying a word, only to ask one ridiculously odd question at the end that would end up as the only exchange anyone remembered (“In Massachusetts, is there ‘hang time?’”); I told them about his disturbingly hilarious “But the catch is…” questions (“But the catch is, every time you sell one of these magic stones, at 9:00 PM that next Thursday, a big sweaty gorilla comes to your house and…”); I told them about his self-destructive pickup lines (“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most breathtaking, stunning, gorgeous girl they’ve ever seen? … No? Well, cheer up, I’m sure someone will one day”). I told them that no one else I’ve ever met has made me laugh more than Michael, and I was pleasantly surprised when they not only laughed at all the humorous stories and punchlines I rehashed, but pulled out their iPhones and iPods to jot down some of the jokes for their own use.

Sure, they’ll be plagiarizing, but to see them laugh at some of the jokes in the same way I did fourteen years ago was a reminder that while the faces of humor may change, some things will always be funny. It reminded me that I owe my friend Michael more than I can fathom for all the hysteric laughter, aching sides, sore shoulders and rasping coughs he gave to me for just being exactly who he is.

Thanks, buddy.

by

Reality TV Like You’ve Never Smelled It Before

Please allow the following digression – it may not be a “wonderstuff,” but I still think it’s a smashing idea.

The Next Reality Television Stars!

Some people believe that Hollywood is wasteful – that, as an industry, it tosses out much more than it saves and recycles a fraction of what it produces. James Cameron’s assurances about a green production of Avatar aside, I would agree with the assertion that profligacy festers in many of Hollywood’s corners and those of its subsidiaries. It is for this very reason that I offer the following suggestion – it may not solve all the wastefulness, but if we each do our own little part, blah blah blah.

It was after the most recent episode of Top Chef (I promise, it’s the only reality show I watch) that a fabulous idea struck me and I devised a way for the production company, Bravo, to eliminate what must be a hefty portion of their waste.

Cash prizes not withstanding, Top Chef must be an expensive show. You’ve got your reality participant stipends, your weekly food budgets, your royalty checks forked over (get it?) to products, restaurants and guest chefs, your cooking equipment, set design, judge and host salaries, crew costs, boat rentals, car rentals, loft rental, et cetera et cetera et cetera. Sure, I know Buitoni is one of several sponsors, and that a popular show makes more money than it spends, but, please, you know the studio would be interested in figuring out a way to get more for their dollar (or at least establishing another hit show without inaugurating a whole new set and truck load of materials). And there is a solution – one that came to me as I watched yet another episode of the hot-shot chefs abandoning a disheveled kitchen, full of dirty pots and pans, messy plates and disorganized utensils. My wife is glued to the screen to see who’s going to win and who’s packing his/her knives, but all I can think is, who are the poor schlubs who have to clean up all that?

Coming this spring to Bravo TV! Ten of the country’s best dishwashers and busboys are about to be put to the ultimate series of tests. The Quickwash Challenge: How many dishes can you wash in two minutes? How big a stack of plates can you carry before they tumble? The Sanitation Elimination: Who can get his section of the kitchen the cleanest? What’s the best recipe for a mopping solution, or a grill cleaner, or an oven degreaser?

Think about it, Bravo. This could be huge? For crying out loud, half the set and props are already sitting there!

There’s Buffalo Hank, the grizzled, dishonorably discharged war vet whose been cleaning the Route 16 Truck Stop kitchen for going on three decades, and has plenty of wisdom to convey when it comes to staying a step ahead of the health inspector. There’s Paco, the illegal immigrant from Albuquerque whose table bussing techniques are so fast that you barely know he’s come and gone (necessary skills when the diner you work in becomes a favorite coffee and pastry spot for INS officials). There’s Oz, the seasoned dishwasher who has elevated scrubbing to a Zen-like art form and finds filthy kitchens an opportunity for greater spiritual transcendence. There’s Jolene, mother-of-six and part-time hair cutter who tidies her TGIFridays kitchen like she does her own, an ironic ambition considering neither ever seem to actually get cleaned. And there’s Turtle, the third-year college freshman/meth head who may not have the cleanest hands or the fastest mop, but he sure knows how to mix those chemicals. They’re all after the grand prize: to replace the outdated, politically-dicey lumberjack as the image of Brawny paper towels, and a lifetime supply of ammonia and bleach, sponsored by Lysol.

I’m telling you, it smells like another hit…

Okay, maybe not a hit per se, but it definitely smells.

p.s. – Tell me, readers: would you watch?

by

Rockin’ the Cane: A Lesson in Fashionable Imagination

Last November, I broke a bone in my foot. I was fitted for a cast at a hospital nearby and told it would take six weeks to heal. After six weeks, that cast started to look pretty ratty. During a trip to the States for the Christmas and New Year’s holidays, I sought out an Urgent Care clinic to get my foot x-rayed and have someone take the loathsome thing off, only to find out that the bone had not healed and that I would need to consult with an orthopedic surgeon to see what the best course of action would be. Terrifically boring (and frustrating) story short, I now wear an Aircast boot and administer ultra-sound therapy to myself using a little device that is supposed to stimulate bone growth. Needless to say, none of this has been pleasant…

…except for the cane.

Crutches in Germany look a little different from crutches in the U.S. – they don’t fit under your armpits, but instead look more like the kind of walking aids permanently-handicapped people use, with braces that go around the upper arms and handles to hold on to (not mention reflectors on the handles in case I feel like staggering out for a late-night hobble down a dark street). While I cannot deny that I didn’t enjoy making some people in the States feel awkward during my recent visit – seriously, do all people get those semi-pained, semi-oblivious expressions on their faces when they encounter someone they think is handicapped? – I must say that after seven weeks of using crutches, I was ready for a change. Fortunately, I found a small, wooden cane in the apartment we are staying in, and since I’ve got the Aircast boot now, I can hobble around without needing the support of two crutches. Thus, Bo now comes with a cane. Someone update the action figure!

On the days I don’t shave, I feel like I’ve got a Dr. House-thing going on, and I try to flesh out the more salty, curmudgeonly brilliance in my personality. However, when I’m by myself, I like to pretend I’m a dapper English gentlemen (it is essential, during these fantasy sessions, to avoid mirrors), some professor who smokes a pipe and reads from pocket volumes of Yeats or Coleridge. I like the way the cane tocks on the hard floors and the sidewalks. I imagine myself with a top hat … and then I imagine taking it off and throwing it away because, no, I can’t even pull off a top hat in my imagination.

When you were a child, you seemed to have the ability to turn even the most inconvenient circumstances into play time. Why was that? I think it’s because you were much more interested in the stimulation that came from an active imagination rather than the catharsis that comes through complaining.

The cane makes me happy because it has caused me to realize something. I’m thirty-one years old and I still get a kick out of my imagination, and that, as we say in Old Britain, is jolly good!

by

O Beautiful, for … Lots of Stuff

Despite the risk of coming across materialistic and worldly while claiming to be a missionary, I think a short “Ode to the States” is overdue. Since returning to the U.S. of A., I have sought to indulge in as many of the aspects of American life that I have missed since living overseas. I try to do all this while avoiding all the cable news stations – how have the majority of their viewers not yet committed suicide? By and large, the reporting borders on the despondent, if not downright morbid. All the more reason to celebrate the good things in life, simple though they might be.

So, let Americans celebrate…

Chick-fil-A

Is there anything better than a Chick-fil-A chicken sandwich? Leigh and I have visited this place multiple times since arriving for a visit. Word of advice for those who don’t visit weekly – the new Spicy Chicken Sandwich is okay, but the spice detracts from the classic taste. Stick with the original.

Auto AC

It’s hot in Texas (check off ridiculous understatement – got one). However, it was hot in Italy last year when Leigh and I drove down for a brief vacation. One thing that makes visiting the States this summer better than visiting Cinque Terra last summer – cold air blasting in our faces from the car vents.

RedBox

While Leigh and I have not taken as much advantage of this wonderful vanquisher of Blockbusters and Hollywood Videos everywhere, I still find this little contraption remarkable. How we wish there was something like this in Germany. Maybe then there wouldn’t be so much illegal downloading going on. And, if you’ve got a Netflix subscription, you’re even cooler…

Chipotle Mexican Grill

Yes, if you order the chicken burrito (which I do) and the chips and guacamole  (which I also do), and you eat it all (which, yes, I sometimes do), you feel like crap. But it’s that wonderfully exhausted crap-feeling telling you that you have just been to heaven, and you will hear angels singing again sooner than you think since you just ate a year off of your life. Mmmm!

Dr Pepper

How I mourn for all the Europeans cursed with mere Coca-Cola, Sprite and Fanta Orange for their major soft drink selections. Thank goodness they make good wine and beer, but if they only knew the wonder that is this sweet nectar from Waco. Oh, and if you are a resident of the United States and you choose any of the above drinks over this one, shame be upon you and your children and your children’s children.

Bar-B-Q!!!

Leigh and I have cooked ribs a few times in Germany, but to get the meat we have to go in together with another family and order it special (and expensive) from a butcher a few towns over. And while German sausage is great, they don’t hickory smoke it or glaze it with honey barbecue sauce. But here in the States, this lip-smackingly good, finger-suckingly fine bane of Vegans everywhere is readily available. And, since we’re staying outside of Austin right now, that means a trip to The Salt Lick in Driftwood, TX will be happening soon!

Irish Red

Sure, I’ll take Guinness on tap over this sumptuously smooth solution, but when it comes to the beer aisle at the local grocery store, this is the one to grab. Granted, I did just learn that they haven’t brewed this in Ireland for centuries and it is actually a Coors product, but I still love it. I’ve never gotten in to the German beers – too much wheat-brewing going on in that stuff. Give me an amber red lager like this one!

H.E.B.

Yes, they’re exclusive to Texas, but we should all celebrate our massive grocery stores. Sure, they can be glaring eyesores of consumerism and excess, but if you shop ‘em correctly, they are a place of wonder, dwarfing almost all European grocers with their selection and pristine organization (and that’s just the cereal aisle!). Now, I’m all for the farmer’s markets for fresh produce, and bringing along some canvas sacks to avoid plastic bag-pollution, but I can’t get over the wonder of so much under one roof.

Chips & Queso

Leigh and I sometimes eat at a Mexican restaurant in Freiburg, Germany, which is the closest place to find such food even though it is forty-five minutes away. They serve you a thimble-sized bowl of chips (no refills) and a NyQuil cup of salsa, and you can forget about straight queso. It’s a travesty of Mexican cuisine and eateries, but that’s Europe. Glory be to Mexican restaurants in the States for their insistence of stuffing us with this goodness before destroying our bowels with their entrées.

Swimming Pools

Personal swimming pools are not an unreality in Europe, but they are where we live. While Leigh and I don’t mind the local pool in town, there is something remarkably relaxing about stepping out your own back door on a hot afternoon and having a gleaming blue swimmin’ hole calling your name. It’s also easier to introduce your newborn daughter to her first swim. If you don’t have your own, go make friends with someone who does.

Big bookstores!

Living in Germany, there is nothing more frustrating for me than walking by bookstores and knowing there is probably not one volume inside that I can understand. I love the musty, crammed book closets cluttered with stacks upon stacks of old books, but I also hold a fondness for the giant retail stores like the one that clobbers Meg Ryan’s little shop in You’ve Got Mail. Aisles of shelves filled with shiny new books, with plenty of wide open space for relaxing and sifting through a few tomes with no pressure to buy, and a little coffee shop at a safe but reachable distance. These places are magnificent – a glimmer, perhaps, of what heaven’s libraries might be like. I just know the iPad and the Kindle are going to ruin everything!

American television

Neither Leigh nor I speak German beyond a few passable phrases, but even if we did, I suspect German television would be lost on us. Even in the time of re-runs, it is nice to be able to relax on the sofa and have a plethora of choices for entertainment. It is perhaps more comforting than anything listed above, including the food. I’ve caught plenty of Sportscenter, The Colbert Report, a showing of Twelve Angry Men on TCM, and syndications of Seinfeld and Scrubs. And, oh, how I have missed ol’ Alec and his head-scratchers (and, no, the irony is not lost on me that the show represented in the picture of “American television” has a Canadian host).

There are so many more things that I enjoy. In reality, all of these things take a back seat to being home with family, and spending time with my wife and our new daughter. Each of the things mentioned above are simply those little additions – that icing on the cake – that we so often take for granted. If even one of the things I’ve mentioned means as much to you as it does to me, the next time it comes around, take a moment to absorb it in all its wonder.