Hi friends and family,
This one shows dad’s sense of humor . . . Okay, almost all of them do! The story also shows a reference to politicians that I find quite hilarious and maybe somewhat contemporary. Or is it just that politicians inclinations are universal and timeless . . .
David T
Tickle Your Funny Bone by Don Tschirhart
Everyone needs a chuckle, and a good, loud belly laugh. Doctors say people who laugh live longer and lead a happier life.
I have a funny bone somewhere in the middle of my head because humor is high among my personal priorities.
Oh! It’s not that I can’t be serious. I was serious when I married Margie in September, 1950. She’s had to have a huge sense of humor to stay married to me all those years and her doc told her recently she’d live into her 90s.
And I was serious when I adopted my 12-year-old puppy, Molly. There have been few days in these relationships that I haven’t had a good laugh at myself and with others. I feel sorry for those who wake up without a smile on their face. Don’t they know they should be happy just to have awakened to enjoy the day?
I do enjoy the daily good-natured chortling that goes on the Lapeer Community (gymnasium) Center. There’s always someone with a joke or just a funny story about themselves or others.
Much of my laughter comes from the daily comics. Crankshaft, Frank & Ernest and a couple of others are my favorite “chucklers”.
And then there’s the internet, where relatives and friends who know about my “funny bone” send me many email funnies:
A Lapeer friend wrote about a surgeon, an engineer and a politician who were arguing which of their professions was the oldest.
The surgeon said, “Mine is the oldest. After all Eve was created from Adam’s rib during surgery.” The engineer replied: “Wait a minute. God created order out of chaos long before Adam and Eve. So my engineering profession is the oldest.”
The Lapeer commissioner laughed at his friends’ argument. He said: “Heh! Heh! Mine is definitely the oldest profession. Politicians created the chaos!”
I logged on to my email messages the other day and said, “Wow!” when I saw I had 18 of them. Fifteen were asking me to order Viagra or put me in touch with some sweet ladies from the Ukraine or both. One was from my sun-browned Florida brother who was amused at our snow and below zero temperatures. And two were friends with jokes.
It seems Jesus and Satan argued as to who is the better computer programmer. They agreed to hold a contest. Naturally, God the Father is the judge.
They sit before computers and type furiously for several hours, lines of code stream on the screens. Just before the competition ends, a bolt of lightning strikes, cutting off the electricity. Moments later, power is restored. God announces the contest is over.
He asks Satan to show what he has come up with and a visibly upset Satan cries, “I lost it all when the power went out.”
“Very well, then, let’s see how Jesus fared,” God says. Jesus enters a command. The screen comes to life in vivid display, the voices of an angelic choir pour forth from the speakers. Satan is astonished. He stutters, “Whaaaa-t happened? I lost everything; Jesus’ program is intact! How did he do it?”
God chuckles and says, “Jesus saves.”
Back in high school I had a priest as history teacher, whose jokes kept the class on its toes. He taught me that tasteful church and religion jokes were not off limits. So I’ll tell you this one:
Art visited the horse race track quite often. One day he watched a priest bless a horse in the stable area and the horse finished first.
Before the second race the priest blessed another horse. Art put a couple of bucks on the blessed horse and it won. Art watched blessed horses win a few more races.
Smelling a good thing, Art went to his bank, withdrew his life’s savings, went back to the track where he noted which horse the priest blessed and laid his entire bundle on it to win.
Art’s horse finished dead last. Art was crushed. His fortune was gone. He was crying when he went to the priest and told him what he had done. “What happened to the last horse that you blessed? I lost my entire life’s savings.”
The priest sighed, “That’s the trouble with you Protestants. You can’t tell the difference between a blessing and the Last Rites.”
If that doesn’t cause a deep-down belly laugh, you need a new life.
* * *
