Moms birthday today. Yeah, yeah, thanks for um … congratulating my mom for being alive and shit. Heh, if you say thank you ahead of time you let people off the hook.
My sister posts an old joke on Facebook. The only person to really bite is one of my moms sisters. It’s the old joke that gave me this sort of Garrison Keillor moment. The punchline to the question How Old is mama dawg? Old mama dawg fine, how is you?
And, as I so often need to do these days, I had to try to remember the set up. It’s one of those jokes my dad told often, it has something to do with what the telegraph company would charge you for. Honestly I came up with some possible set-ups but none that seem plausible.
And here’s where it goes all Garrison Keillor, at least in my head. Most of y’all had parents, I mean them of you what are legal on this planet and I’m really not trying to out the ones who ain’t, so keep you’re tentacles down if you’re from off-world. But even without parents there was some old guy (to a kid that means over 18) who was always telling stories and stuff, and you could tell the sort of leg pulling that was coming by the set-up.
What I realized as I was in the basement pouring yummy flavors into poison was how hard it must be for some folks to take on that role. I mean seriously, half the kids whenever you get two sentences into a thing go “Gee Whiz” or you know “motherfuck” or whatever those lovable little bastards are saying these days, because you’ve telegraphed your punchline.
But, and this is a huge Butt … You have too.
It’s the story-teller’s and joke tellers creed. Especially to kids. It has to be stylized and transparent because if there isn’t a way for them to see it coming they don’t know it when it gets there. It’s what has grown ups read mysteries or anyone zone out in front of the TV; because they get enough of it to piece it together.
Wait, shit. That’s not the telegraph joke at all. Hmmm, I think it’s a family joke; the way my sister never got that joke. There’s one, even today, where she can crack herself up and then I crack her up even more, no set up … she just says “Arrgh it’s making me crazy!” starts laughing and then I say “Arghh it’s steering me balls.” Guiding me testes would work, I’m sure you can come up with your own, or, for that matter, go the opposite direction, the one my sister leans towards and a argh it’s making me anxious.
Ok, never mind. Poor garrison Keilor.
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