Sit Down Comedy … May 31st, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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My definition of awkward: finding myself in an uncomfortable situation and then doing something dopey to try and fit in.

A Convention of Clowns

This happened to me many years ago when a friend invited me to a convention of clowns. (No—I mean real clowns. Not a metaphor.)

I arrived, walked in and realized there were over a hundred people there, give or take a dozen—all dressed as clowns.

Suddenly all the eyes of the room fell on me, with a combination of bewilderment and pity. I felt stupid—not because I was in a convention of clowns and they were all suited in their garb, but because I was insecure that I was not part of what was going on.

Awkward

One of the clowns walked up and handed me a red nose—an extra he traveled with. As I slid it on my nose, he stood back, and about fifteen surrounding souls with floppy shoes applauded me. I’m so ashamed to admit it, but I felt better. Donning the comical beezer at least made me look like I was a respectable participant.

Several months later the same thing happened when I was invited by a friend to a Pentecostal church. The music began and suddenly everybody rose to their feet, lifting their arms and talking in some unknown language which I did not comprehend.  Slowly I inched my way to my feet to join them. I tried lifting my arms but after a few moments they ached. And then, doggone it, I felt so out of place and so frightened that everybody was peering at me, that I pretended to mumble words to imitate theirs.

I felt so phony—but I didn’t want to be the “odd tongue out.”

Then a good friend of mine, Mike, asked me to go to a convention hall to see big time wrestling. Honestly, I’d never even watched it on television. Everyone around me was clad as their favorite character, screaming, pleading for blood and mayhem. Mike kept glancing over at me, wondering if I was going to catch on and join in. Eventually I did find a wrestler I favored and shouted a couple of inane words of encouragement his way.

Yes—not that different from attending a political rally with my friend, Linda. She was really sold out on the candidate. At the time, I was really sold out on her. Signs, slogans, speeches—even a small marching band—bombarded my ears and collided in my brain, pleading with me to cast my support.

I did a little. I hated myself for it. Well, maybe not hated—I just wondered why I still possessed this weakness—a need for some sort of acceptance, even when I was in an environment that was completely alien.

That’s the way I feel today.

I no longer recognize America.

The screaming, the cursing, the ignorance and the self-righteousness that encircle me is tempting me to make an awkward step to blend.

I don’t know how to do it. I don’t want to do it.

Dammit, I despise you Republicans for what you stand for and your arrogance.

And screw you, Democrats, for having a superior attitude to the world around you.

I feel my country has been absorbed by a cult of pirates who want to swash-buckle their way into fame and fortune.

If I resist, I fear they will make me walk the plank, pushing me off to drown in the deepest sea of despair.

How much volume can my voice have in a country full of shouters?

I don’t know.

But just as I was not a clown, a tongue-talker, a wrestling fan or a political enthusiast, I am also not part of this abduction that has happened in my nation.

I will try to be strong and not find a dopey way to slink into the shadows of sameness. 

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3 Things … May 30th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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You Can Do That Seem Old-Fashioned but Actually End Up Innovative

1. Whether you feel it is necessary or not, say “thank you” and “excuse me.”

 

2. Return a message to the sender within an hour of reading it.

 

3. Walk out of a room just once when gossip begins, and you probably won’t have to do it twice.

 

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Drawing Attention … May 29th, 2019

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Canvassing, Part 3

(tap the picture to see the video)

art by smarrttie pants

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The Q Word … May 28th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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THE

WORD

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The Q Word that should never be written or spoken again is:

Quiet

To ask for it carries the arrogance of the librarian who insists that knowledge is better acquired in silence.

To expect it is the foolishness of the parent who has birthed a noise maker.

And to pout because it doesn’t come makes you appear prematurely ancient and dusty.

And just for the record, peace does not travel with quiet.

There is no such thing as “peace and quiet.”

Peace must be made—forged, crafted and bent into position. Therefore, it is a construction zone, complete with traffic jams, hammering out matters and pouring concrete solutions.

Quiet is what tells the younger generation that the older generation has no right to be heard.

Quiet is what turns a church into a funeral home, even when it insists to be a cathedral of worship.

Quiet is what makes school so annoying for the students that refusing to learn appears to be the best rebellion.

There are three definite things that make quiet an unfriendly, unnatural and unworthy word:

1. Life is noisy

We did not get here with the “big whisper” theory. We got here with a “big bang,” and it continues through today.

2. People are clunky

Even though you can put all the pieces into the right place, when they start to move, function, breathe and execute their missions, they stumble over one another, and even when alone, find a way to trip themselves up.

3. All change creates squeaks, hisses and some sound you must use your falsetto to describe.

It is time for us to stop acting like our mother, attending her first hip-hop concert.

Earplugs are not available.

Frowns of disapproval over volume can never be turned into smiles of ecstasy.

There is no quiet—just softer gasps for air.

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1 Thing You Can Do to Become a Great Patriot

 

DON’T

React, Resent, Reject, Regress

OR BE

Rude, Rowdy, Racist, Raunchy

THIS IS NOT WHO WE R

 

REASON

The colonists who settled the Americas were most concerned about wording. They realized that in the future, in studying their original thoughts on creating a perfect union, the words would make a huge difference. So they struggled, parsed and edited—writing documents to include as many people, situations and lifestyles as they could possibly imagine.

Out of that effort came phrases such as:

“All men are created equal”

“Truths that are self-evident”

“Government by the people, of the people and for the people”

“Liberty and justice for all”

Even though these men were chauvinists, racists, wore powdered wigs and snorted opium, they were still aware that the greatest power we possess as people is to reason. So:

I will reason

You will reason

Until we discover together the reasonable solution.

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Iz and Pal (Bedouin Buddies)

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Sitting Twenty-One

Matthew Bradley was a photographer with a lesser known news organization with the unfortunate acronym of W.U.S.—Wire United Service.

Matthew refused to be called Matt because he felt that using his full name, Matthew, along with Bradley, might remind people of the famous photographer, Matthew Brady, from the Civil War, who no one remembered anyway.

He was sweet—which in the world of romance, is akin to leprous. He wasn’t unattractive, but certainly never did anything to paint his old barn. He nervously talked too much, and his voice was pitched high. His cheeks were sunken and his teeth, with just a touch of “buck” to them, threatened halitosis. For his breath was just south of peppermint with a hint of garlic, which made close contact just a little stuffy.

Matthew liked Karin. He was infatuated. She was a female and he, a male. Twice a month he asked Karin to go out on a date. She had never accepted the offer—not only fearing that he might become too obsessed, but also having little desire to provide the lion’s share of the small talk.

Even though Karin was not interested in him as a potential boyfriend, she had never needed a photographer as much as she needed one now. Pictures were required so that the public could catch a vision of what was going on in the desert with Iz and Pal.

Taking a deep breath, Karin picked up her phone and called him. She told him that she wanted to see him. There was a very long pause. Matthew replied, “Who is this really?”

After thoroughly convincing him of her pedigree and authenticity, they met for a brief luncheon, at which time she explained her dilemma. He never took his eyes off what seemed to be a region below her nose and above her mouth. It was unnerving.

Yet he agreed to go with her to the desert location to take pictures—if she agreed to attend a correspondence dinner with him in two weeks, where he was going to receive some sort of simple award. Even though Karin was dedicated to the project and wanted to do what she could for the two young fellows, she still paused for a moment to consider what an evening with Matthew would be like—especially if he was juiced up with the energy of grasping a small trophy.

Still, she knew how important this visual would be to her article—and taking heart from contemplating that some forms of cancer can take effect suddenly, be diagnosed and kill in less than fourteen days, she agreed.

They split the bill, she offered him a mint and they headed off into the desert.

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Cracked 5 … May 25th, 2019

 

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Jonathots Daily Blog

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Five Characters That Would Make Terrible Presidents

 

A.  Scrooge McDuck

 

 

B.  Darrin Vader (Darth’s oldest son, who is presently governor of South Dakota)

 

 

C.  Wiley Coyote

 

 

D.  Andy Amoeba (a single cell living in my toilet bowl)

 

 

E.  Any one of the Munchkins (a personal prejudice)

 

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