Sit Down Comedy … November 16th, 2018

Jonathots Daily Blog

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The Purpose of Giggling

Comedy keeps human-kind from ending up in the commode.

Once in the bowl, we would circle it and somebody would eventually become crazy enough to flush us down.

Comedy performs this function with grace, style, wit and of course, humor.

But it also does this with a bit of flair and wisdom. Because even though many people are lamenting the situation in our country as being “vile” or “contentious,” no one seems to figure out how we got here–or is it there?

Would you believe it’s simple?

Human beings–that’s you and me–become actually insane when we start contending that what we think should be believed. You can feel free to think anything you want as long as you don’t insist that other people believe it.

Case in point: if you happen to like oysters, think they’re delicious, the “treasure of the sea,” more power to you. But if you found the Pink Oyster Cult and worship the slimy little boogers, then you are desperately in need of a laugh–maybe even at your own expense.

Likewise, if you think there’s a heaven we’ll all go there for eternity, to worship the presence of God, I feel you should have the freedom to bounce that around your head all you want–but you can’t think that those who don’t believe the way you do will burn to a crisp in hell.

If that’s what you do, we need to introduce you to some sketch comedy.

If in your brain you have convinced yourself that the white race is superior to every other race, then there’s not much I can do to moderate your thinking–unless you start acting like it’s something everyone should believe, everyone should follow and everyone should line up behind.

If that happens, I’m going to need to tickle you.

Likewise, if you think climate change is the most important issue in the world, that men and women are very different and that God is really female, I would love to encourage you to dance with such thoughts in your mind–as long as you don’t get on the Internet and post it as a confirmed fact, recently verified by some study done at the Harvard Institute of Stupidity.

I am a humorist.

It is my job to bring humor when people begin to take their musings and turn them into law. Matter of fact, you can think that the President of the United States is exceptional or unqualified, and I will be just fine with it–unless you begin to believe he has been sent by God for this hour, or that he and the devil are planning the demise of the nation.

In that case, it will be time for me to pull out the balloon animals and prance around the room in the most silly way possible.

Don’t believe everything you hear–and if you choose to think it, don’t pretend that everybody else should.

If you decide to pursue such ridiculous behavior, I will be nearby to hit you with a punchline.

 

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Good News and Better News … July 25th, 2016

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Life is not about feverishly searching for the pearl of great price, but rather, developing a ravenous appetite for oysters–and every once in a while, in a blue ocean, getting a magnificent surprise.

As I sat in the hallway of my motel, getting ready to depart, I listened to the sounds of sweet humanity squirming from behind the doors of the rooms around me–a baby crying, televisions growling and grumbling, a young couple arguing, and even a very robust snorer.

This is reality. It is not an inconvenience to my wishes and dreams, but rather, the climate in which they are permitted to bloom.

This weekend I had two opportunities to be in front of that humanity and accept the portion of their hearts they afforded in my direction.

Saturday morning at the Moscow United Methodist Church, I shared readings from my new book, PoHymn, in front of a sparkling handful of locals who overcame the apprehension of how boring it might be to just sit and listen.

It was amazing. At that event I discovered that the pastor of my Sunday morning church in Tunkhannock was a former clergyman at this Moscow church. The Moscow folks had such wonderful things to say about him.

Then I was off to see the gang in “Tunk” for two services on Sunday morning. I will be candid with you–the different audiences across America have unique meters of reaction, but the temperature of their appreciation remains pretty much the same. In other words, some people clap their hands and others stare with interest.

Yet people are tired of being told that where they are, who they are and what they’re doing is ineffective and that they must become something else or they will suffer with incompleteness.

The beautiful thing about Jesus was that he met people in the street and started working with them at their own street level. He didn’t wait until they worked up the courage to come to synagogue or to a seminar he held in the hillsides of Galilee. He met them where they were and made it work.

It reminds me of one of the ladies who came to my table yesterday. She told me that the church just loved Pastor Jon. I explained to her that I had just appeared at his former church. She said she loved him because she heard that a local church in their town was holding some sort of bake sale, and even though it was not his congregation, he was over there with them, standing on the street corner, calling to people, inviting them to come and buy some sweets.

She was moved.

Now understand–she didn’t mention his sermons. She didn’t tell me about how well he uses his vestments or conducts the liturgy. She loved Pastor Jon because he was trying to find ways to agree.

If only we could become convinced about how much we actually agree instead of meticulously digging through the dead body of our theology to discover bones of contention.

Finding reasons to agree. You see, that’s the good news.

And the better news is that when you actually pursue this lifestyle, the human race finds you much more agreeable.

 

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“A Little Piece of …” April 20, 2013

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I am off next to Wimberley, Texas, which touts itself, in its town slogan, as “a little piece of heaven in Texas.”

I’m sure I will soon find out if there’s any validity to the proclamation, but to be completely fair, I would have to clarify what the attributes of heaven just might be, let alone its manifestation in the Lone Star State.

I am told that heaven is a place with “streets of gold.” Although I’m sure the folks of Wimberley are very kind and generous, it’s rather doubtful that their pavement is actually golden. (Matter of fact, gold would make a very poor road surface. It’s too soft, would crumble and can you imagine the difficulty in getting the city workers to fill those potholes??)

Likewise, I’ve heard rumors that there will be “gates of pearl” in the eternal home. I suppose that would have been impressive to someone in a foregone time, but I don’t know that much about gates, nor do I know very much about pearl–except it would sadden me think that a bunch of oysters would be overworked just so I could have a spectacular vision.

Traditionally, we have the story of angels singing and strumming their harps. I’m just afraid if I heard harp music, I would be waiting for a dream scene in a movie.

There is that scripture that tells us that we’re all going to be living in mansions. Here’s my problem with that–I don’t want to have so much room that I have to clean it all the time or move the clutter around so I don’t trip over things, so I really don’t think that everybody in Wimberley has a mansion, nor would they promise such to incoming citizenry.

There is some sort of buzz about heaven being a place of “no more tears.” That, of course, does have immediate appeal to me as a mortal. But I have to be honest–some of my best discoveries in life have occurred in the midst of tears. Matter of fact, I don’t know who I’d be if I hadn’t learned to mourn over some things from time to time.

So I’m curious about what Wimberley, Texas, thinks “a little bit of heaven” would be.

Perhaps it’s a place where people stop judging each other and each person believes that “NoOne is better than anyone else.” You see, the power of that is that we get a chance to rise and fall on the merits of our talent and passion instead of the cut of our jib, our lifestyle choices or the color of our skin.

I guess that’s what Wimberley, Texas, must mean. They must be offering a location where human beings can come in and not be judged and NoOne is better than anyone else.

That truly would be a little bit of heaven, wouldn’t it?

So I’m going to make my appearance there tomorrow under the assumption that this is what they’re offering rather than streets of gold, gates of pearl, harp music, mansions and a tear-free environment. Because basically, if we give one another a chance to do good things free of prejudice, all these other things just might come our way.

At least,  that’s what I’m going to share with those heavenly folks in Wimberley.

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