Sit Down Comedy … June 14th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4076)

I never planned on being a father

I just wanted to have sex

Sex was simple.

Sex was quick.

Sex was pleasurable.

Fatherhood, on the other hand, is neither simple, quick or necessarily pleasurable.

I was eighteen years old, attending my Junior-Senior Prom with my girlfriend, who had recently become my cohort in the exploration of the human body.

We were returning home from the festivities just before dawn, and arriving at her house, we pulled into her driveway. It was a long one. It ran alongside a pasture where her family boarded a horse.

Pulling inside the driveway and far enough from the road to not be seen but also far away enough from the house to be undetected, we got out of the car. I laid my rented tuxedo jacket on the grass. My girlfriend lay down on her back, disengaged herself from her gown and I from my pants, and we indulged in two-and-a-half minutes of sexual mischief, while the horse nearby observed.

After it was over, we restored our clothing, never realizing that the seed of our first son was planted while we were on that grass.

We had become travelers on a rocky journey.

From that night to the present, four sons have come into my life—one deceased. The three remaining boys that I fathered had to put up with a guy who really was more suited to be a vagabond gypsy musician than “Daddy reading books by the fireplace.”

I honestly don’t know whether I did a good job or not.

I know it could have been done better.

I know at times I was torn between my own desires and the needs of my family.

I know sometimes I over-disciplined and other times I slacked off and ignored situations because I was sleepy and wanted to go to bed.

When a friend of mine came out of a horrible marriage and divorce with three children of her own and was looking for a mission in her life, we joined efforts, including her three other children. Likewise, I don’t know if I was suited to be their godparent or not. It certainly seemed like I was better than their biological father, who was abusive.

But I cannot tell you, on this Father’s Day weekend, that I was well-suited for the job of nurturing children or being the guiding light to their galaxy of possibilities.

What I can tell you is that I did not run away.

I did not blame anyone else.

And I learned how to be wrong and apologize to them for messing up.

I know our Creator probably thought He was being very focused and concise by tying sexual intercourse to child conceiving.

Yet He was also intelligent enough to know that getting worked up over a woman’s sexuality has little to do with deciding to join her in a quest, as Mom and Dad, to rear young’uns.

I guess fatherhood demands three things:

1. Stay, don’t run.

2. Think, don’t assume.

3.  And be willing to be wrong without being angry that you are.

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Dear Man/Dear Woman: A Noteworthy Conversation … August 27th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Dear Woman: My girlfriend broke up with me.

 

Dear Man: Well, don’t look at me. I know you too well to be your girlfriend.

 

Dear Woman: I wasn’t flirting–just sharing.

 

Dear Man: And I was just kidding. What happened?

 

Dear Woman: According to her, nothing. That was the problem. She said I was too predictable.

 

Dear Man: And predictable is a problem because…?

 

Dear Woman: Because of the way we began. I think we believed we were overall attracted to one another, but it was just a sexual connection. We thought we could transform that spark into something more lasting.

 

Dear Man: Isn’t that true of every relationship? You start off with the hots, it chills, and then you try to find something cool.

 

Dear Woman: I don’t think so. I think there are relationships that are just sexual, but we’re afraid to admit this to ourselves, so we try to force conversation over delivered pizza.

 

Dear Man: So what is the difference between a sexual relationship and another?

 

Dear Woman: Well, let’s take an arbitrary number. How about 422? Yes, after the 422nd time you have sex, about everything that can possibly be physically discovered about each other has been completed. So then you either have a personal interest which sustains the coupling, or you start picking at each other, looking for a reason to split.

 

Dear Man: So do you think it’s about a personal interest?

 

Dear Woman: No, I don’t think a personal interest sustains two people, either. It must become a mutual interest. There has to be a reason to coagulate.

 

Dear Man: Coagulate? What an interesting word.

 

Dear Woman: Yes. It’s like blood clotting, You have so much going on with each other that you turn into a common scab.

 

Dear Man: Honestly, I think that’s the end of that analogy.

 

Dear Woman: Yeah, you’re probably right. But if a sexual interest does not have a personal interest which ends up with a mutual interest, you’re going to bounce off to the next piece of heat.

 

Dear Man: You know where I think the problem is? Women get trapped in the idea of being thrilled to be wanted, and men think it’s enough to want.

 

Dear Woman: I suppose it keeps procreation going on, but it certainly is not the climate for a good give-and-take between a man and woman.

 

Dear Man: I’m a woman. It’s not enough to be wanted. That’s what I need to tell my daughters. Many men will want you. You can’t comply simply because it feels good to be told you’re pretty.

 

Dear Woman: And I’m a man. It’s not enough for me just to want. I want–I have this little trigger in the lower part of my body that confirms the necessity. But it doesn’t mean that I should subjugate a woman or that I should make promises I can’t keep.

 

Dear Man: Human sexuality is screwed up, and that’s why gender wars are unleashed, and equality seems impossible.

 

Dear Woman: When I have children, I will teach the girls that it’s not enough to be wanted, and the boys that it’s not enough to want.

 

Dear Man: And I will teach my children the same, and tell them that the only way to ultimately show respect to another person is to make sure, at all junctures, that they are making their own choices.

 

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Cracked 5 … April 19th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2909)

Things You Just Might Notice While Watching 7-Year-Olds Play Soccer

A. They are inexplicably terrified of the ball.

 

B. They clump together like turf bunnies.

 

C. They spend a lot of time purposely avoiding the goal.

 

D. They don’t want to take the ball away from their girlfriend, who’s not really their girlfriend because a 7-year-old can’t admit such nonsense

 

E. Considering the shouting, the moms and dads on the sideline obviously have bet on the game.

 

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Untotaled: Stepping 56 (August 26th, 1970) Weighting… February 28, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2517)

(Transcript)

I was two minutes late.

For some reason I had scheduled an appointment with the preacher’s wife to talk about my dilemma. The plans I had made with my girlfriend–for her to fly in on her birthday, August 25th–apparently went awry. Well, at least, there was no girlfriend.

I was freaked out.

I had actually been freaked out for the whole five weeks while I was waiting for her to escape. I was so upset that my older brother, who was normally fairly unaware of my living condition, or even breathing, decided to step in and offer his gold Malibu for me to use to go on a date. He had souped it up (with as much as he knew about soup).

I had no desire to be with a girl but I did want to drive the car.

There was a young lady in Centerburg, Ohio, who kept bugging me to go on a date, so I thought there would be no harm in doing so.

It was a disaster.

I couldn’t stop thinking about my girlfriend, and she kept promoting herself like a car salesman at the end of the month trying to make quota.

So when the 25th came and went, I was desperate to talk to someone, and Larissa (as she insisted we call her), the pastor’s wife, was available.

I explained to her about our plan, as much as I was able to be forthcoming. I could not tell her about the pregnancy–that would have created so many problems that I would never have been able to get out of her office.

At the end of my sharing, she moved out from behind her desk, sat next to me on the couch and patted my hand. She said the following:

“Sometimes, Jonathan, we have to understand that not everybody knows our true value, and even though it hurts a whole lot, we have to let them go because they’re just not the right one. The one God has chosen for us.”

Well, folks, I was only eighteen years old, but I was pretty sure that God wasn’t choosing my female preferences, and if He was, I wasn’t particularly interested in His input.

I was courtly and mannerly to Larissa, but I walked out of the meeting more frustrated and confused than ever before.

There was only one thing left to do.

I made a secret phone call to the University of Arizona to find out when freshman Rush Week was, and discovered that it began on September 4th.

I also found out that a student standby airline ticket was $50 one way. I convinced my mother to give me $60. That gave me money for a one-way ticket to Tucson, Arizona, five dollars to eat, and five dollars for a motel room.

It was the most ridiculous plan ever devised by man.

But I was in all the way.

Next stop … Tucson.

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Untotaled: Stepping 46 (February 14th, 1969) The Pain in Pleasure… December 20, 2014

  Jonathots Daily Blog

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(Transcript)

Her name was Belinda.

She was about two rungs down the ladder of popularity from me, promoted by the horrendous high school caste system.

She liked me a lot.

I liked her, but of course, I would never go against the feudal structure of High School U. S. A., to ask her out on a date. I would never survive the ridicule and humiliation.

But I got lonely around Valentine’s Day.

My dad was sick and dying. One of the guys in our music group quit because his girlfriend thought he was taking too much time with us, and I had no idea whatsoever on what geometry was all about.

So I quietly asked Belinda out on a date, hoping that because she was so devoted in my direction, there might be some necking involved. She was one of those farm girls, raised on Bible principles, but was willing to renegotiate some of the terms on a Saturday night.

I wanted to neck.

I had kissed girls, but had never sustained long sessions of smooching and my curiosity had overtaken me. So I selfishly decided to take advantage of poor Belinda.

She was thrilled and promised not to tell anybody about our date because I told her we “needed to see how it worked out.”

I took her to a drive-in movie, which in 1969 was code for “we’re gonna mess around.”

It took me nearly thirty minutes to work up the courage to put my arm around her, and then I was afraid to move it and therefore contracted some horrible cramps in my muscles, which continued through the entire evening.

It was easy to get her to start kissing. She had thin lips so the first couple of times I got mostly teeth. But after a minute or so we got the hang of it, and she started slipping her tongue in my mouth, which was relatively new to me.

Adapting the phrase, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” I concluded, “When in France do as the French do.”

We were about ten minutes into the session when I realized that one of us had really stale breath. It wasn’t really horrible–that dried smell of garlic baloney and over-chewed gum.

I persisted.

She really got into it–so much so that she unbuttoned her blouse, inviting me to see how “alive the hills really were.”

I thought about it. After all, I was a teenager. Morals were something to discuss at church and feverishly avoid in your everyday life.

But something stopped me.

Maybe it was the ache in my bicep. Or it could have been the halitosis.

But I backed out of the encounter, tongue first.

I took her home. She wondered what was wrong. She practically pleaded with me to see her again. And rat that I was, I went mousy and never spoke to her.

It was an odd night.

Rather than feeling fulfilled, I felt like I had used another human being, who would suffer some pangs from the experience.

It sucked.

I did learn, though, that there is some pain in pleasure.

The reason most people never pursue their goals is because along the way, there are some shards of glass strewn in the pathway which either need to be avoided or walked over.

If life was easy, dumb people would rule the world.

Well, maybe they do.

But life isn’t easy. With every pain comes some pleasure, and the pleasures that arrive our way do require that we survive a bit of discomfort.

 

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Untotaled: Stepping 28 (September 14th, 1966) Cindy Kerns… August 23, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2330)

(Transcript)

Fat boy, locker room, peer pressure, fear of inadequacy, dirty jokes, girl talk, not enough information.

This was my life on September 14th. I was in search of bragging rights. Very simply, I needed a girlfriend.

Even though I was just a kid, I had reached an age where if I didn’t get some experience with the girl crowd very soon, I would be considered queer in every way.

So I picked Cindy Kerns. She was a year older than me, from another school and attended my church. The best way to describe her is to tell you that her mother called her a “flower.” The pastor’s wife referred to her as a “late bloomer.” But I knew the guys on my football team would think she was stink weed.

(All the terms have a botanical source, but certainly different interpretations.)

I knew I could get Cindy interested in me. I was no expert with girls, but because she followed me around and swooned a little bit when I was present, I figured she was interested. She was sweet.

So here was my plan: make my boast after showering, tell them about Cindy, and then acquire a picture from Cindy of one of her other friends from school–a cheerleader–which I could show to my friends instead of the real picture of my actual girlfriend. Then I could make lots of claims and look cool.

Amazingly enough, it came off without a hitch.

I don’t know why Cindy didn’t get suspicious about me requesting pictures of other girls from her school. I guess she just thought I was interested in her friends. She only asked for one picture–mine.

It made me feel bad, but not as bad as I would feel if I had to show my friends a picture of Cindy instead of some unknown beauty from down the road.

Once football season was over and I didn’t have to deal with these guys with their macho jargon on an everyday basis, I dumped Cindy.

But in that brief two-and-a-half month period, I grew to like her. I learned when to kiss, how to kiss and things to say to a woman at just the right times.

Adolescence is a terrible time to try to be a human being. In an attempt to become something that you probably will never be, you can really hurt other people from becoming what they could be.

So I would like to apologize to Cindy (who I am sure by now wouldn’t even remember who I am). And I would also like to apologize to the girl whose picture I used to impress my friends.

After all, it’s unfair to carry on a relationship with a stranger by photograph.

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POPULIE: It’s Just the Way It Is … April 30, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2218)

“It’s just the culture. You can’t change it.”

This is a quotation from Don Sterling during one of his recent conversations with his girlfriend about his beliefs and contentions concerning racial and ethnic issues. And even though his words and ideas were so egregious that they raised a national “stir over Sterling,” the heart of his principles exists as a cancer in our society and permeates the thinking of most Americans.

Because we have been raised with the foolish notion that “popular” means “right,” we are constantly sucked in by lies and deception, drawing us away from our better nature into seasons of temporary insanity and regression.

• Not everything in life is up for votes.
• Not everything in life is debatable.
• Not everything in life can be a button on Facebook, which you punch if you “like” and when you realize you’ve accumulated enough of these approvals, you can proceed with confidence.

It is a POPULIE: “It’s just the way it is.”

Yet sometimes, we have to say, “It’s the culture, and not only is it wrong, but we’re going to change it.”

Politics discourages this, because to maintain a platform on which to base political leanings, you often find yourself defending arcane ideas and ridiculous notions.

Religion enjoys this prospect of not being able to change matters because it takes the responsibility for “storming the gates of hell” away from the local congregation and also allows for the anemic proclamation of the “soon return of Christ” because the world is in such a mess.

And entertainment loves to hide behind the populist notion that society has moved into some sort of new acceptance of an obtuse idea which has been rejected by time so they can flaunt it and call it “reality.”

Here’s something I want you to remember:

It isn’t a way if it doesn’t tell the truth that brings life.

And every true way believes that we are together.

Truth holds us together and life brings us together.

If you’re not arguing for these points, you’re jumping on a band wagon that’s playing so loudly that you may not notice that you’re heading for the edge of a cliff.

I do not care if social, spiritual, moral or even political issues have gained a following. I only care if they are a way that tells the truth that brings life.

If they aren’t, I will refuse to believe “it’s just the culture and the way it is.”

As people line up to give a gut punch to Don Sterling for his outlandish remarks, we need to realize that we all are in danger of falling victim to the quotation that fell from his lips. “It’s just the culture. You can’t change it.”

Well, I will tell you this: if we can’t change it, it will change us–and that particular transformation will not be life-giving, but rather, suck the possibility of true humanity and joy from our lives.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Click here to get info on the “Gospel According to Common Sense” Tour

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.