Archives For Joke

marshianWhenever I have an appointment with a doctor, I try to remember to bring along my own magazine or (better yet) the current writing project with which I’m wrestling. Unfortunately, I’m often in a hurry, and sometimes forget . . . which means I need to rely on that odd potpourri of dated magazines that typically migrate to medical waiting rooms.

This week found me in precisely this precarious predicament. I arrived rather early in my dentist’s office, and it turned out that he was slightly behind schedule. Not the best of circumstances. I approached the magazine rack with trepidation.

To my delight I saw a Reader’s Digest with a cover article about “Fifty Dumb Boss Stories.” Having worked for my share of dullards, I thought this should be entertaining. The fact that it included comments from Dwight Schrute of The Office made it just that much more promising.

I wasn’t disappointed. Among the many silly acts recorded in the article were a collection of malaprops voiced by witless bosses. Here are a few:

The Greek pyramids weren’t built in a day.

Spurt me out an email.

Let’s not put the horse before the cart.

We’re not preparing the report because it would be an exercise in fertility.

And my personal favorite, the elegantly mixed metaphor: “It’s not rocket surgery!” Nor is it, I suspect, brain science.

Most of us appreciate humor—even when it’s unintended. C.S. Lewis, in Reflections on the Psalms, wrote: “A little comic relief in a discussion does no harm, however serious the topic may be. (In my own experience the funniest things have occurred in the gravest and most sincere conversations.)”

Now, before ending this post, I need to point out one more truth. Dimwitted bosses aren’t the only people who stumble over words and meld images better left autonomous. Every one of us has occasionally experienced the proverbial “slip of the tongue,” and sometimes with quite entertaining results. Jokes—whether intentional or accidental—can all be appreciated. As the newly created Talking Animals of Narnia are told by Aslan:

“Laugh and fear not, creatures. Now that you are no longer dumb and witless, you need not always be grave. For jokes as well as justice come in with speech.” (The Magician’s Nephew).

Humor & Health

November 16, 2012 — 9 Comments

I had to have blood drawn today for an upcoming physical exam. It’s not one of my favorite things to do, but I consciously try not to allow my feelings to negatively affect the caregivers who provide these essential procedures for our wellbeing. (Trust me, dentists especially are sorely in need of our appreciation.) I often try to add a little smile to their day employing a touch of light humor.

Today, for example, I was repeating a blood test I had already accomplished earlier this week. When the corpsman (Naval hospital) asked which arm I said, “you better take it out of my left arm . . . they weren’t happy with the numbers in the sample they got from my right.”

Now, a modest joke like that won’t make it into any comedians’ monologues, but it did inspire a chuckle from the four of us in the lab at that moment.

It reminded me of getting my flu shot last year and having my choice of four different corpsmen to administer it. Each had a waiting line. I could only imagine what it was like to be puncturing one anonymous arm after another for eight hours. Most “victims” silent, but many grimacing and some feeling compelled to describe to you just how much they hate shots.

Three of the corpsmen were normal sized human beings. But the fourth was a behemoth. The seams of his uniform were near to bursting due to his extraordinary musculature. I doubt he was on steroids, but his massive figure could have fit into the offensive line of any team in the NFL. And, for some mysterious reason, his waiting line was the shortest.

When I approached him to receive my vaccination, I ventured (in a voice loud enough for his companions to hear): “I chose you because you look like you’re gentle.” Everyone got a laugh out of that, and I felt pleased at having momentarily brightened their day.

My kids are always wary when I make comments like this. They recognize that every time we open our mouths, it’s a gamble. We can achieve our goal, and elicit someone’s precious smile . . . or we can make a fool of ourselves.

As a grandfather, I have the added “protection” of not having too much expected of me, in the wittiness department. By the grace of God, I’m still in possession of the bulk of my mental capacities. I imagine that, should I live long enough, most of my attempts at humor may grow rather lame. But, if there remains any cultural respect for our elders, even these attempts will be recognized for what they are—goodwill. And, as such, there are those from whom they will still elicit a smile.

We should not be afraid of humor, especially in its most humble and intimate forms. Woven amidst the threads of our daily conversations, it enriches life.

C.S. Lewis recognized this quite well. In The Magician’s Nephew, which recounts the creation of Narnia, Aslan says to the newly anointed animals: “Laugh and fear not, creatures. Now that you are no longer dumb and witless, you need not always be grave. For jokes as well as justice come in with speech.”

Lewis notes something in Reflections on the Psalms that I too have found to be true. “A little comic relief in a discussion does no harm, however serious the topic may be. (In my own experience the funniest things have occurred in the gravest and most sincere conversations.)”

Because of this, it’s not uncommon when we sit with those who have lost a loved one, to find that the conversation often drifts towards those happy and humorous moments that were shared with the departed. I’ve heard much healing laughter in the still sorrowing presence of the grieving. And, whether the words or thoughts evoke bold laughter or simple smiles, I tend to consider them a good thing indeed.