Wisdom comes from funny places. Funny comes from wise guys. "You are nothing," I was told, "but the aggregation of what has gone into you." I am Tolkien and Moses, trapped on Gilligan's Island. I am Vernon Fisher leaving it to beaver. My Saturday nights are live, and they are also alright for fighting.
My father told me a joke this weekend. "A little guy came into our work this week and asked the boss, 'How much does this job pay.' The boss answered, 'I believe in paying a man what he's worth.' The man, disgusted, said, 'I ain't working that cheap for no son-of-a-bitch,' and stormed out." It was a new joke to me, and a funny one.
My daughter, Robyn, told me a joke this weekend. We were driving to Bryan, Texas to go to my sister's wedding, and we'd stopped at a little gas station in Hearne, Texas. As we were going in, she saw the sign on the door (the one designed to keep the dirty hippies out) and she said, "Oh wait, dad. We should go somewhere else. This place doesn't allow shoes or shirts and the don't have any service." Ha! Pretty good for a thirteen year old. And a girl.
A pigeon is pecking in the parking lot. The sun has just come up, so the pigeon's shadow stretches twenty-five feet away from it. Everything reminds me of song lyrics, and this reminds me of the Spin Doctors: "He's with the pigeons pecking crumbs and I'm on my deathbed bleeding with the cherubim." Actually, the singer says, "Cheribums," which is incorrect in two ways, but rhymes better with "crumbs". I let it slide, because the Spin Doctors have been so good to me.
Wisdom comes from funny places. Funny comes from wise guys.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
