Tag: Jokes

The Hole Truth

There’s a well-worn joke I like to tell: “Why should you always have an extra pair of socks in your golf bag? In case you get a hole-in-one”.

Ok, so not bad. Not good. Just so-so?

Holes have been popping up lately in various, even homophonic, forms this week.  I’ve heard, “You’re not going to eat the whole thing now, are you?”. “You know we have whole wheat wraps as well, right?”.

I actually had to physically dig a 2’x3’x3′ hole this past Wednesday followed up with a 20′ trench. The whole thing took hours of mindless spade time I could have used for a thousand other things. Digging through soil and clay isn’t on my list of pleasant pursuits. Had to be done.

What didn’t have to be done?

Two big toes of mine are sore from an owner irresponsibly smashing them on a small iron post located in a, err …, hole. Once in and once out of a door way – at our local church – this lazy, now, limper forgot that iron post marker was there to protect the location of a special hole. It’s special all right. I, simply, was in too much of a hurry “twice” 😫… to remember it was there while cutting the corner of the walkway.

Which gets me to why I need humor in my life. Or, attempted humor. Why? To offset the partially stupid things I do to upset my mental applecart at times.

“How many holes are in a straw?” This question was asked by an elementary friend recently. She posts interesting questions on a board to pique youthful interest as students arrive. There were two possible answers offered: 1 or 2.

As I usually enter early, time is on my side to ponder possible parenthetical, possible answers to any proposed problems posted. This extra time also allows for conversation with my friend who writes the questions. She and I, sometimes, have spirited discussions about most of the topics/questions/quizzes posted. The other day was a partial in-depth, ninety-second discussion concerning the dominant color on a zebra. See? Really important stuff!

So, anyway. 1 or 2 holes? …

With a few elementary kids around and, by my guess, younger teachers within ear shot, … my best response was:

“Depends on whether or not there was a turkey in it, or not?” … followed up by a little do-do- dododo-dododododododo … musical enforcement to drive the point home.

Nothing. Except one good friend who gave me the usual small head nod and little “I got that, but it was really bad” eye roll acceptance glance.

In my mind I had material and timing. Both necessary for complete success … Just not the audience. So, later at choir practice I tried it again. Material, timing, and an adult audience. Nada. Zero. Nothing.

A comedic black hole. It circled the event horizon twice and then spaghettified into the abyss where time stopped – never to be heard again.

Honestly, I thought it truly was a hole-in-one.

Oddly enough, “one”, scientifically is the correct answer to the question as confirmed by a high school student later in the day. Not only by him, but also by a donut-loving elementary student earlier.

Never mind I thought “two” – one on each end. Reason being: that hole I dug a few days ago is one hole – one entry point, not two. So, does a straw, by comparison, have only one as well. Eh?

… and with that, I will stick to what I believe to be the hole truth and nothing but the hole truth.

A Bear, Tim, and Harry

As the joke goes: A bear walks into a bar, places his arms on the counter, and says, “I’d like to …….. order a beer.” The bartender asks, “Why the long paws?”

This is a pun-unpleasantry I’ve read over and over during my years delving into books and magazines attracting my fancy. I love word play.

Granted, there are jokes – like this one – so over-used and worn I’d rather they never be spoken out loud again. Alas, however, I will most likely see it reappear in printed form, or, orally – both irritatingly so. Human nature dictates it. Bad jokes don’t die.

I can explain why this joke has been unbearably attached to my brain lately. Writing has been on pause lately and it’s as irritating to me as hearing a grizzled mammal swing open a tavern door – not that I even know what that sounds like. I don’t drink or frequent watering holes let alone hang out with alcoholic bears that talk.

Life is busy. That’s my excuse and I don’t appreciate it sometimes. Gosh, that sounds so ungrateful, doesn’t it? I’m healthy – save a few mid-fifty issues – and shouldn’t be complaining. My business is hectic with go-here’s and do that’s at odd hours with expenses due a few days before incomes. My legs beg for reclination time above my torso instead of continuously supporting a creaky, cranky back. This is 19/7 with 5 hours melted in for sleep.

At this very moment, I’m sitting in my wind-sheltered van waiting for customers to visit a welcoming food cart. It’s 55-degrees outside. Inside, I’m drinking a peach iced tea … hoping to wash down the rather kind ham and cheese hoagie I hastily purchased from the grocery store earlier. That was my noon breakfast. Life in the food truck fast-lane.

Yesterday was 70-degrees and sunny. Up is down with the weather in late October here in western-Pa. The small crack I must leave open in the door allows a cool breeze to flow in while there’s no sun to be found. Such a contrast from yesterday and the day before when we had even better weather. Close to 80-degrees and incredible skies. The day started out with this:

A soupy mess. I took this picture that morning hoping to write of the fog settling in my brain. A mist of quasi-frustration continuing into today …. a day when I actually have the time to write.

Those of us who love to write, but get off schedule because of life’s more important have to’s, eventually find time to put words down. We have to. Silence can stay silent only so long.

During my few minutes here, I’ve waited on two customers. Folks I didn’t see out of my peripheral vision for a few seconds as a result of this very breaking of my silence. They were very understanding. I blamed my inattention on you, my readers. I had to. It’s because of you – and my days long absence from this wonderful space – awareness was not paid.

… and, of course, that is mild sarcasm topped with a spoonful of thankfulness. No matter the circumstances in life, I am grateful. Yes, busy-ness is so closely tied to business. Life is to be lived out and outlived. We need to get every drop of yum extracted from the years we have.

My 7th grade Geography teacher said it best: “More than the years of your life … is the life in your years”. I don’t know if he came up with that or not, but it stuck. Mr. Hooper … what a guy.

A bear walks into a bar with his friend Tim, the termite. Tim asks “Is the Bar Tender?”. Tim has a friend, Harry the horse. The bartender asks Harry, “Why the long face?” ….Want me to continue?

I can’t. I just can’t. Maybe next time. For now, we’ll hit the pause button. Until we meet again.