T -27: Humoresque

The third grade teacher told her class that it was impossible for a whale to swallow a man because its throat was too narrow. The little girl in the first row waved her arm frantically. "But teacher, Jonah was swallowed by a whale. It says so in the Bible," she said.

"No," the teacher said, "as I told you, a whale's throat isn't big enough to swallow a man."

The little girl shot right back, "When I get to heaven, I am going to ask him how it happened."

"But what if he isn't in heaven?" the teacher asked.

"If he's in hell," the little girl said, "then you can ask him."



I start with that today because this morning Red, my father, told me I needed to put more humor into my blog. Start with a joke, he said. When I told him that it was hard to think of something funny every day, he offered the joke above. Whoever invented the Internet has a lot to answer for.

My dad loves to laugh, and he has always shared this love with others making them laugh, too. If there is a party, he is the life of it. And God help you if he has ever caught you doing anything embarrassing. Suffice it to say that I am still hearing stories about things I did as a child more than 50 years ago. And yes, it makes us all laugh when he tells them.

However, as Mr Spock so famously said in Star Trek, humor is a difficult concept. Let's just say there were times when those of us in the family didn't always share the joke with him.

I have many memories of everyone in the room laughing except my mother, who was frowning and simply saying, "Red!" I vividly recall not seeing the humor when he had suggested I sample the mustard in a Chinese restaurant, unaware that it was hot enough to start a fire. And I distinctly remember begging him not to tell jokes when he drove me for a date in that awful age when you're old enough to ask a girl to a party and too young to drive yourself.

But most of all, I remember one time in particular. I was coming home for the first time after being away in the seminary. Dad picked me up at the airport, and on the way home he told me that he was worried about my mother.

What's the matter? I asked. And he told me she was acting strangely. Just that morning, he had walked into the bathroom and she was kneeling in front of the toilet, sawing the seat in half.

I was shocked and worried. Why would she do that? I asked. "I don't know," Red said. "She just kept saying that she was getting the house ready because her half-assed son was coming home."