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RRR: The Lights are On

Posted by Tim at 21:27 on 2009/12/08
Dec 082009

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.
This is an update of a post from 16 July 2005

I’ve always loved light bulb jokes. You know, “How many _____ does it take to change a light bulb?” [I've always loved elephant jokes too, but that will have to be another post.]

How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb?
How many teenagers does it take to change a light bulb?
How many teamsters does it take to change a light bulb?
How many country singers does it take to change a light bulb?
How many philosophers does it take to change a light bulb?
How many computer programmers does it take to change a light bulb?

Some years back [hah!] I went to a chiropractor for a while. He had a pretty good sense of humor so one time I told him this one:

Q: How many chiropractors does it take to change a light bulb?

A: Only one, but it will take him ten visits to do it.

He got a good laugh out of that. The next week he told me that he had told that joke to another chiropractor friend of his and they decided on a better answer:

Q: How many chiropractors does it take to change a light bulb?

A: Only one, but it will take him ten visits to do it — twenty if you have insurance.

And I got a good laugh out of that!

Answers:
psychologists = only one, but the light bulb has to want to change
teenagers = only one, they hold the bulb and the universe revolves around them
teamsters = TEN, YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?
country singers = two, one to change the bulb and one to sing about all the good times we had with the old bulb
philosophers = three, one to curse the darkness, one to light a candle, and one to change the bulb
computer programmers = can’t be done, that’s a hardware problem

And one more that I like a lot:

Q: How many kids with ADHD does it take to — hey, wanna go ride bikes?!?

aRRRgh, humor, otoh 2 Responses » Tagged with: , ,

A Walk in the Park

Posted by Tim at 17:58 on 2009/12/07
Dec 072009


With my nose toward my toes
I walk in the park after dark
To exorcise my demons
Until they run
out of me
out of energy
And I play on my way
With my eyes toward the skies

otoh, rogue poetry, sydca 1 Response » Tagged with: , ,

The Mystery Writer Returns

Posted by Tim at 23:06 on 2009/12/03
Dec 032009

Fred tapped his favorite Montblanc pen absent-mindedly while staring at the monitor. He had used the pen as a murder weapon once. Today, it was just a distraction. Ginger breezed in carrying a tray. He loved her dearly, but disliked ever having his work time interrupted. Even unproductive work time like this.

“Have some tea, dear,” she said while pouring the hot liquid. With a sigh, he rolled his chair away from the desk and accepted the cup. “It’s almond and honey flavored,” Ginger continued. “Something new!” She grinned and breathed in the steam from her cup. Then her brow furrowed. “Fred, I’m worried about you.”

“Worried? Why?” He sipped the tea and tried to hide a grimace.

“You kill someone every week.”

“I write murder mysteries. That’s not the same as really killing someone.”

“I’m afraid it just keeps your head in that frame of mind. It colors everything else you do.”

“I don’t understand. What frame of mind?”

“You seem sad all the time. Your stories are all so sad.”

“Sad? The killer is always brought to justice in the end.”

“But only after terrible things have happened to people first.”

“Not innocent people. The people that die in my stories all deserve to die.”

“You really believe that some people deserve to die?”

“In my stories? Absolutely.”

“How about in real life? Drink up, sweetie. It’s good for you!”

“Well, yeah, but I’m glad I don’t have to decide about them.” He gulped down another mouthful.

“But someone has to decide?”

“Ginger, what’s really bothering you?”

“I’ve decided. You’re leaving me.”

“What? Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. What makes you think I’m leaving you?”

“I don’t think. I know. You’ll be dead soon.”

“Dead?”

“Yes, Fred. Dead. Poisoned.”

His tea cup shattered on the floor.

[Note: Learn more about Fred and Ginger here. ~Tim 6 Dec 2009]

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FridayFlash, otoh, vignette 14 Responses » Tagged with: , ,

She Laughed, and Heaven Filled the Room

Posted by Tim at 22:10 on 2009/12/01
Dec 012009

I don’t really care for memes and I have rarely participated in them. Wait! Don’t stop reading; I’m not about to start ranting or meming [it's a word because I just decided it needs to be for the moment]. I was thinking recently about the ten questions that James Lipton asks his guests on Inside the Actor’s Studio. They are based on the Proust Questionnaire — a sort of 19th century meme. In particular I have been thinking about these two questions:

What sound or noise do you love?
What sound or noise do you hate?

And I’ve been thinking about those questions because my answer would be laughter. To both questions. The difference is the tone.

Joyful laughter is oh so sweet a sound. Guffaws following a joke well-told. Interspersed with conversations between family and friends. Children playing, their excitement punctuated with giggles. I can feel it feeding my soul, re-energizing me. If I could hear only one sound for the rest of my life, this would be it.

Derisive laughter, on the other hand, kills me. The bully or the taunting crowd. Teasing. Disparaging. Dismissive. Laughing AT you. Derisive laughter is the soundtrack of hell. If I could eliminate one sound forever, this would be it.

The title of this post is a line from a Johnny Cash song. When I hear it or read it, it triggers an intense image. A breeze rushes in. The room gets lighter, brighter. Colors are more vivid. Everything is more clear. And all because… she laughed. That is a joyful noise.

otoh, sydca 1 Response » Tagged with: ,
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