I’ve been in trouble my whole life, moving from one disastrous experience to the next simply because I said something “inappropriate”. What I usually said was the truth but in a funny way. I just reared back and with no mental filter at all said out loud what everyone would have said if they weren’t worried about being pummeled senseless. Having a bad hair day? Don’t tell me. I’ll tell you and in a way that is deemed, in polite circles, inappropriate. Something like, “is this wear a dead wolverine on your head day?” or “nice color, sorta between hay and mulch, isn’t it?”
My friends are used to this and know that it’s just my way of making conversation and having fun. My wife has learned to accessorize to match her red face when I come out with something that is just a little less outrageous than offering to find a boy toy, a video camera and some thirty weight oil for her mother. Hell, the old broad needs a hobby! Besides, it helps the circulation. But as one can imagine, such offers of human kindness and concern are often rebuffed with rolled eyes and a scowl.
I figure it this way. We get one turn of the wheel and the only way to make sure that you’re a winner is to do it all with a smile, a joke, and a good dose of humility. If you are trying to get through this mortal march armed with nothing more than seriousness, you’re screwed and probably really, really boring. I’ve been called mean, silly, fool, and a hundred other things that rhyme with “I’ll have the other sucker.” But I have never been called boring, except in bed. And that’s the way I like it.
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