Sit Down Comedy … July 31st, 2020

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Old people talk about old things.

That’s how you know they’re old.

They think they’re relevant. They think they’re talking about new things.

But they’re wrong.

They are old people talking about old things, sounding an SOS:

Same Old Shit.

The trouble is, not all old people are collecting Social Security. Some of the old people talking in our generation are supposed to be young. But for some reason, they’re talking about old stuff.

I don’t know why.

The Civil War? Are you nuts? Are we really still discussing a flag of a group of rebellious traitors who wanted to subjugate a race of people to be their slaves and decided to fight on every flat spot in the Eastern U. S., to try to prove their point?

The Civil War is over.

It has been decided. Slavery is not coming back. So all your banners are outdated. If you’re still talking about it, you are goddamned old.

Abortion? This has been settled.

It’s a nasty procedure that no one really wants to claim but needs to be a freedom given to a woman—because it’s her body. Sure, we would hope that it would not be used as birth control, or a way to get even with conservatives. But the discussion is over. If you’re still talking about it—pro or con—you’re decrepit.

And referring to politics, I wouldn’t even know where to start.

Republican and Democrat? These are things my grandparents talked about. You can tell it’s old stuff. The parties still use flyers, bumper stickers, buttons, slogans, attack ads… Are you kidding me? This stuff is old for old.

The election is really simple. We need to put somebody in the government who will allow us to live our lives fruitfully, make sure the roads are paved, and don’t blow up the rest of the world. If you want to call those “issues,” then I guess you could have one of your debates.

I stand dumbfounded when I hear people talking about race.

Are we really discussing color? Because honest to God, so many people have tattoos, I don’t know what color they are.

I heard an old woman say, “I just don’t think it’s right for black people and white people to marry and have children.”

“Fine,” I told her. “Then you probably shouldn’t fuck a rapper. And maybe don’t watch somebody else do it either.”

I’m astounded when I hear old people talking about rich and poor.

It’s so OLD. Get what you can and help everyone else. How hard can that be?

And by the way, can anything be older than religion?

We spend all of our time in a church talking to people (who are wearing jeans and crocs) about patriarchs in Israel. Old people talking about old things—stinking up the joint with old.

Can we ever get over the idea that men and women have to fight with each other? It’s so damn old.  Maybe we could do something new.

We could counteract our entertainment and create shows where men listen, and women are reasonable.

It’s all about human rights.

We cannot let these unfortunate, mentally stalled old people continue to insist on the fact that a few human wrongs should still be discussed.

You can identify old people because they talk about old things in an old way.

I would think, after Covid-19, we should be able to hear a scream coming from America. “I don’t want to debate the issues anymore!”

Don’t we all want to live in an America where there are only two rules?

Do the best you can.

Help somebody out when you can.

 

G-Poppers… January 9, 2015

  Jonathots Daily Blog

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Granddaughter, trying to be funny, asked, “G-Pop, what’s it like being old?”

G-Pop: Old? I’ve just had enough birthdays that I know what kind of cake and frosting I prefer.

I’m old enough that people don’t ever say, “You aren’t old enough.”

I look twice as cool when I know what’s going on and I’ve kept up with the times and the news.

Would you believe, I’ve made a family?

I may walk slower, but it just enables me to enjoy more scenery.

I have learned that arguing only delays pleasure.

I think people start looking better because I’ve seen worse.

Here’s a kicker–my clothes are suddenly back in style.

I want to fuss less, laugh more, work little, enjoy the moment and deeply appreciate finding my keys.

And by the way–I’m finally the older version of the child who always wanted to be older.

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

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Iffing Way (Part 7) Nic at Night … December 1, 2014

 

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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What if a voice of sanity had risen up at various stages in the story of human history, to offer a challenging view when craziness was about to win the day?

If …

He was summoned, forcibly invited.

He felt like a schoolboy under the control of the master, with no will of his own. But he knew what it was about.

The head chair on a committee where he sat had a vendetta. Now, the distinguished leader would choose to call it something else. Perhaps “a needful intrusion.” “A holy mission.” Or even, “a matter of course.”

He knew better.

He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy on the part of the chair person, ignorance, or even something as simple as an ongoing tiff with his wife which had left him grumpy.

It wasn’t the first time there had been a summons. No, many times the subject had been discussed and debated, but finally tabled, with everyone leaving in a huff, unfulfilled.

But this time was different. Apparently the boss now felt he had the votes to pull off his will.

It was all so bizarre.

In the midst of a decline of popularity of the national faith, a young man from Nazareth had arrived on the scene and re-energized the populace. Now, an intelligent conclave of distinguished fellows might have seen this as an opportunity to bring in fresh blood and move people to spiritual awareness. But this particular gathering of theologians and pseudo-politicians lacked vision.

He was preplexed. What was even more confusing to him was that he had made a journey by night to visit this young man who was stirring up the religious system. He clearly remembered two words from their discourse:

“Born again.”

The carpenter-turned-preacher had told him that he needed to be “reborn” to be in step with what was going on. He was offended. So because he considered himself to be a dynamic debater, he tried to make the young Galilean feel stupid or awkward by challenging the meaning of the term. Facts are, he knew what this young Jesus meant by “born again.”

Everything around him reeked of old–ancient ideas and meaningless practices.

Yet that night, he’d found himself walking away–trying to include the message of the Nazarene instead of being born again into it.

But this was different.

He knew that Caiaphas was in charge of the board, and was seeking to levy punishment against this innocent unaware.

What was he going to do?

He prided himself on the fact that he was smarter than Caiaphas because the officious leader was so headstrong that he frequently left himself wide open for counter-point.

Yet he had grown weary of argument and become known as a sympathizer, which was now rendering him ineffective among his peers. After all, it was not only improper, but illegal to be a follower of Jesus.

Arriving at the meeting, it quickly became obvious that Caiaphas had a death warrant for Jesus.

What was he going to do? Should he remain silent, and still curry the favor of his fellows? Or was it time to be born again and use the wisdom and style that he had developed over years of practice, to help save the life of the freshest idea to come around in decades?

It was nighttime again. But this time he would not walk away and pretend he didn’t understand.

He made a case against Caiaphas–quietly, reverently, but also with a conniving purpose. In no time at all, the stubborn Pharisee was speaking double-talk and the committee dismissed itself to go back to their homes, unresolved.

Jesus was saved for another night.

Jesus would be able to continue to teach.

And Nicodemus would be able to hold his head high and just maybe start the process in his life…of being born again.

 

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Me, Shelled from the Nut … February 9, 2012

In Houston, Texas

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I am as old as I am willing to learn

I am as young as I choose to believe

I am as wise as the width of my heart

I am as smart as the depth of my brain

I am as talented as the level of my use

I am as loving as the vacating of my fear

I am as attractive as I decide to attract

I am as ugly as I persist to repel

I am as giving as I am grateful for what I have

I am as funny as I relax to laugh

I am a worker as I discover the cause

I am lazy as I resort to “because…”

I cry as I feel the pain

I rejoice as I reject the insane

I whisper as I need to be heard

I shout as I ascend to the housetop

I am secure as I build on the rock

I am nervous as I feel the sand beneath my feet

I am American as I grant freedom to others

I am Christin as I search for Jesus

I am Godly as I comprehend His humanity

I am human as I see my possibility as Godly

I am at my best as I escape the rut

I am me, shelled from the nut

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Jonathan wrote the gospel/blues anthem, Spent This Time, in 1985, in Guaymas, Mexico. Take a listen:

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To see books written by Jonathan, click the link below! You can peruse and order if you like!

http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm

Except… December 27, 2011

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Jonathan in Miami

Yesterday was the first time this year. 

 “Happy New Year!” someone called. It was jubilant, optimistic, caring and filled with good cheer. I liked it.

But it got me thinking. Forgive me for that–I spend a lot of time trying to think because when I don’t, I find myself just reacting, which drudges up memories of childhood disappointments, failures, misgivings and a few grudges I still hold against people who ended up being better than me. Yuk.

Thinking is better than reacting. And the thought that came to my head is this: the word “new,” in reference to the year, is only significant if we’ve actually dealt with our “old” things.  Here’s my contention: nothing is old as long as it still works. I, for instance, have just turned sixty years of age but I am not outdated, irrelevant or without a sense of history and an awareness of the present. So candidly, I don’t feel old, nor do those who meet me attribute any agedness to my persona.

Nothing really becomes old until it doesn’t work anymore. And honestly, calling something “new,” if it’s just warmed-over hash, is equally as useless. In that case, “new” is just the replacement for the old lightbulb in our brain that doesn’t work anymore. Because “old” is the acknowledgment that we are pursuing a way of living, a plan of action or a style of belief that just doesn’t work.

If we continue to cling to it, it becomes “cold.” I do meet some cold folks as I journey across this country! I would characterize them as looking me straight in the eye and saying, “I don’t care if it doesn’t work–I still like it!” I am not so sure what to call this particular mindset. The liberals would attribute it to the conservatives and they would certainly toss the hot potato back the other direction. But it is a chilly way to walk through our lives because we’re never enriched with the sensation of doing something that’s really successful, but rather, repeating traditions that leave us unfulfilled, while we insist that life is meant to be miserable and hard.

But I’ve even seen people change when they turn cold.  It’s all about the word “repent.” We don’t use it much because it sounds Biblical–and God knows, the less we quote the Bible and Shakespeare, the more likely we are to draw friends our way. But “repent” is when you  come across something that IS old and doesn’t work–and even though you stubbornly wish that it did, you soften your heart in a kind moment to consider a better option. Because if you don’t repent, what was old and didn’t work, which turned cold through your determination to do it anyway, can turn into “mold.”

And oh, this is where it gets really nasty. This is when old people who don’t have anything going on that’s working, become really frosty, insisting that they like it anyway, and then become aggressive and defend the failure.  Yes–mold is when you defend the failure and leave it hanging on the ceiling, even though you’ve heard it makes you sick.

It’s WHY we repent–because if we don’t, Jesus says we will perish.

I sat at breakfast yesterday morning with a spread put out by my son and daughter-in-law from Miami. Ham, Quiche, bagels–well, the list goes on. I had a half a ham sitting right in front of me, and being the weak glutton I tend to be, I peeled one slice and another off of that former porker. I have no power to restrain myself from devouring such a product. I walked out to my car–or perhaps, “rolled out” would be a better term–knowing that I had something old in my life.

Overeating. It doesn’t work. It makes my legs want to sue me for cruelty, my heart choke up with cholesterol and my sugar rise in protest.

I also had to admit that this year I had turned cold on the issue. I didn’t really care about my weight. I rather liked the process of enjoying food and hell to pay. Fortunately for me, I did stop short of mold and did not defend my failure at weight loss. So as I drove down the road toward Fort Myers, Florida, I decided to stop being cold and deal with the old year. And what made it old? As far as me getting leaner–it just didn’t work.

I’m not so sure I’m going to be a roaring success, but I do know this–I have identified the old. I am ready to repent, which will make room for the new. Because except we all do, we will begin to perish. And economic problems, bad politics and stagnant religion are merely symptoms of the disease of unwillingness to deal with our inadequacies.

Except you repent … Well, I guess that’s when you can add “Happy” to “New Year.” Because the old that didn’t work and the cold that caused us to insist we liked it, turning into the mold that enabled us to defend our failures, is suddenly exposed by turning a light on in the room. Now the question is–what do we do next?

For me, the first step is trying not to sit so close to ham.

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To see books written by Jonathan, click the link below! You can peruse and order if you like!

http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm