Someone once said that laughter is the best medicine, and I believe it wholeheartedly. Therefore, you may quite often see me laughing. Some of those times, though, I laugh to keep from crying!
Of course, I have been known to cry after hearing a joke, too. Now, that can be taken two ways: one, that I'm crying at a poor joke, or two, I'm crying because I have laughed so hard at a great joke. Either way, I'm still crying. Obviously, I'd rather cry from laughter.
I also love a good story, and it really doesn't have to be true for me to enjoy it. As long as the tale gets my attention, holds it, and has some meaning, then I feel it is a good one. If I can laugh afterwards, then that's all the better.
Some folks have a natural ability to tell tales. My brother Buddy was one of those people who had a knack of just how, when, and where to embellish a tale and get you to grinning.
Folks like Jerry Clower and Justin Wilson made lots of money weaving their stories. And if you've never heard any of their recordings, then you ain't lived! As ol' Jerry would have said, "If I'm lyin' I'm dyin'!"
Here's a joke that I thought was hilarious. Of course, holiday shoppin' might cause you to believe the joke ain't a joke at all! Honestly, it is a joke and I've added a little here and there, hoping it brings a few smiles to your face.
I went to the store the other day, and had planned to be in there only a few minutes. But at this time of year, you can imagine the crowd elbowing each other and throwing body blocks like professional hockey players!
One individual grabbed another from behind and around the neck, threw them over their hip as Walker, Texas Ranger would do, and slammed them to the floor. I then grabbed the last loaf of bread and headed to the frozen food section.
People on that aisle were swinging bags of biscuits like war hammers, so I figured it was time for me to head home.
This particular store has what looks to be at least 63 checkout registers. Guess how many they had open. That's right; three! And the lines of those three registers had folks lining up outside the store just to get back in and pay for their goods.
Anyway, after waiting 45 minutes in the checkout line, I wasn't in a happy mood. Things got worse for when I came out of the store there was a cop writing a parking ticket.
I walked right up to him and said, "Come on, buddy, how about giving a guy a break?" He ignored me and continued writing the ticket.
That's when I called him a pencil-necked Nazi.
He glared at me and started writing another ticket for illegal parking. So I called him a piece of horse manure.
When he finished writing the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first, he started writing a third ticket!
I told him then that I was just beginning. I said he must have thought they said "rain" when handing out brains, and he ran inside and didn't get one.
Folks, this went on for about 20 minutes. The more I abused him, the more tickets he wrote.
But guess what! I didn't care. My car was parked around the corner.
Like I said; I try to have a little fun each day. It's important.
Galen White lives in Homer. His column runs weekly in the Minden Press-Herald.