Laughlines!

Story Copyright Scott Williams International Pty Ltd.

Once upon a time there were three bears.  Papa Bear, Mama Bear and little Baby Bear, from a previous marriage.  Papa Bear worked for the public service, but due to job related stress, he had been off work with pay for nine years.  One morning, while waiting for their porridge to cool, the three bears decided to visit Papa Bear’s brother Teddy.  Teddy had been institutionalized for a number of years due to several acts of self mutilation. (Teddy was found missing and eye on one occasion and on another had the innards coming out of him).  This left the Bear household bare of bears.

Hiding in the woods in sight of the house was Goldilocks, a local girl with less than perfect morals.  She had been casing the Bear’s house.  It seems Goldilocks had been responsible for a number of burglaries in the area, stealing to supplement the single mother’s pension she received for her three year old child, Crystal.  Goldilocks and her daughter lived with Goldi’s grandmother, the child’s father having not been seen in several years.  To complicate matters further, Goldilocks was again heavily pregnant, and due to give birth any day (the father of the second child was known to be the brother of the first child’s father, and his location is also unknown).  As soon as the bears were out of sight, Goldilocks entered the house, determined to trash the place.

As she walked past the kitchen table on her way to the find the liquor cabinet in the hope of finding something to drink, Goldilocks spotted three bowls filled with porridge.  She looked at the largest bowl, sniffed it and then took a taste. She began to feel a bit queazy.  Whatever was in the largest bowl, she didn’t like. She got up and moved to the next seat and started in on the smaller bowl. One mouthful was all it took. Being a regular sufferer of morning sickness throughout her pregnancy, another wave of nausea overcame her.  Anything down was up again.  The second bowl was definitely not to her liking!  She moved quickly (or as quickly as one can when one is nearing full term!) from the middle seat, and maneuvered her bulk onto Baby Bear’s little chair.

Unfortunately, due to the additional weight, Baby Bear’s chair could not hold Goldilocks, and with a crack, Goldilocks tumbled towards the ground.  Her arms flung wildly, one arm hitting the small bowl, causing it to fly across the room and smash into the wall.  The impact of Goldilocks hitting the floor caused her waters to break. “Oh, that’s just great!” she exclaimed.  She managed to get herself up and went in search things she might need for a home birth.  She soon found a room that contained three beds.  She slipped off her thongs and lay down on the first bed she saw (a habit which often got her into trouble).  lt was too hard and too big (for a moment Goldilocks thought she was having a flashback).  She tried the middle sized bed, but it was too soft.  She lay on the small bed and was pleased to see that it bent and curved under her weight, placing her in an ideal birthing position.  There she lay, trying to remember the things she was taught the anti-natal classes. Time quickly past, and the contractions grew stronger.  Soon enough the bears arrived back home.

“Someone’s been tasting my raw bran and prune porridge” Papa bear said.

“And someone’s thrown up honey wheat and asparagus porridge” said Mama bear.

“And some degenerate has flung my McFlurry porridge with extra sprinkles against the wall” cried Baby Bear. “And vandalized my chair.”

Suddenly they heard a loud female voice screaming and swearing. “It sounds like it’s coming from the bedroom” cried Mama Bear. . They rushed to the bedroom, where they found Goldilocks on Baby Bear’s bed in the final stages of delivery.  ”What have you been up to Baby Bear!” cried Papa Bear. “I’m not sure I agree with inter breeding” said Mama Bear. “Well, I’ve never seen that slapper before today, I swear” shouted Baby Bear.  ”Yuk. I’m not sleeping in that bed again!”  Seeing the bears just standing there in the doorway with a bewildered look on their faces, Goldilocks screamed. “Don’t just stand there, you dopey looking animals! Think on your feet! Get towels, flannels, hot water! I’m having a baby here!” They just stood there. “Move!” shouted Goldilocks. “Good God, no wonder we shoot you!”

Goldilocks successfully gave birth that day in the Bear household to a bouncing baby boy, Leroy – and since then has given birth to several others.  She lived with the bears for a while, until she inherited her Grandmothers house, after her Grandmother had been eaten by a wolf.  But that’s another story. She lives there to this day, supporting herself through the a series of single mothers pensions under different names and child endowment.

Mama Bear successfully filed for divorce and got the house and custody of Baby Bear after discovering Papa Bear’s relationship with Goldilocks once she moved in had gone beyond a handshake. Baby Bear continues to live with his mother in the family home, with his mothers new boyfriend,  Smokey.

Papa Bear lives in a trailer park near the family home, and his insurance claim on the broken chair and stained wall is still being fought through the courts.

Have you noticed how aggressive everyone is on the road today?  Even the bumper stickers on the back of cars have taken on a decidedly uncaring tone! Remember when we had bumper stickers that read “Honk if you love Jesus” and “Peace man”?  Today I see stickers that say things like “Santa hates your kid!” or  “I have PMS and a handgun.  Any questions?” These are real bumper stickers!

What is it about driving that makes people so uptight?  Or is it not just confined to driving.  Does everything in the world today make us crazy?  For the moment let’s just stick to the question of driving.

It isn’t as if we are still traveling by horse and cart, moving at a speed slightly faster than walking. Having to stop every few yards to pick up another load of steaming hot manure left by our transport.  Now they were emissions!  Today we climb into the car, turn the key, adjust the air conditioning, tune in the radio to our favourite station and then, exerting the only bit of energy necessary,  put our foot on the accelerator and  go!  Pressing down on the accelerator is the extent of our exertion.  If we have  cruise control we don’t even have to do that !  (Though it does get a bit frustrating using cruise control in the CBD).

So what is it about driving that seems to bring out the worst in people? Last week I was driving on the freeway, and I was doing about 7k over the one hundred limit. Now when you are exceeding the speed limit you don’t imagine that you could possibly be holding anybody up, so I tended to ignore traffic behind me.  And I’m in the lane closest to the guard rail so there are two other lanes drivers can use.

Despite these extra lanes, when I do finally glance up at the mirror, I see a car flashing it’s lights at me and some bloke turning puce mouthing something I cannot decipher – possibly “get out of my way you !@#*$&^&” idiot”.   Where exactly does he expect me to go?  I’m in the only lane I can be in without taking the next off ramp.

I wait for him to change lanes but he’s determined to sit on my tail and abuse me.  So I change lanes.  He speeds past me, flicking his finger at me and continuing to yell something.  “Chill out Puce-man” I said as I waved at him.  I continued to watch him as he did it to other drivers and weaved in and out of lanes ahead of me.

That kind of behavior is unacceptable and so unnecessary.  He’ll give himself a heart attack if he carries on like that. I sit there driving along thinking how can he allow himself to get into a mental state like that when he is driving?   He has to learn to take it easy.  So much good advice I have to impart to the world, if only the world would listen!

Pride before the fall.

Yesterday I had an appointment in the city at eleven o’clock, so I knew I was going to miss ‘peak hour’. It would take me forty five minutes to get to the city from where I live, and yet despite that, there I was at 10:15 wandering around the house looking for my car keys!  ”You’re going to be late” my wife mentions subtly.  “I’ll be fine, I just can’t find my car keys.  You haven’t seen them have you?”  Thankfully  God gave women eyes. Someone else must have made men, because we missed out on some of the practical stuff, like the ability to find things.  We didn’t get the gift of women’s eyes, just the ability to womanise!  one minor mistake in spelling changed the course of history!

Within a couple of minutes my wife had located the car keys, located in an area I had already looked in twice.  Funny that?  “Got your wallet?” she says as she hands me the keys.  “Now where did I put that?” I thought to myself.   “You’re going to be late” she reasserts.   “Why can’t you just keep track of your own stuff?”  Easy for her to say.  She’s a woman.  Multitasking, preemptive thought, all of that.

“You got fuel in the car?” she says sarcastically.  “Very funny” I said, kissing her goodbye.

“Don’t drive like a maniac just to get there on time.  If you’re going to be late you will be”.   Wise beyond her years that woman.

I’m finally behind the wheel and it’s now 10:25.  Starting to have a slight heart flutter from the adrenaline rush.  Nervous but still confident I  should make it to the appointment on time.  Before long I’m on the freeway.  As I cruise along I happen to look down and notice the fuel gauge light on.  I don’t believe it!  So I check the trip computer and it tells me I have 25 kilometres I can travel without grinding to a halt!  I’m not going to make it to the city on that.  So off the freeway I go and into a service station. No time to fill it up so just let it put in $15.00.  I can hear my wife saying “Why don’t you just fill it up when you have the chance?”  She doesn’t understand the time restraints I’m under!

Back to the freeway.  10:35 and now I am starting to cut it fine.  Up the onramp and onto the freeway I find myself behind a car doing just under the speed limit.  Come on. . come on . .   What’s he doing???  Doesn’t he know you can do up to 7 kilometres an hour above the speed limit in Queensland and not get booked for speeding?

I start waving my hand and flashing my headlights when it suddenly dawns on me – I’ve turned into Puce-man!  And it happened without me even being aware of it.

There are only so much time in an hour.  We are not going to wake up one morning to suddenly find an hour contains 75 minutes.  So in this fast paced world we all have to develop better time management skills.  For men that means finding your wallet and car keys the night before and maybe leaving 15 minutes earlier than you had planned to ensure you are only 5 minute late.  There’s enough pressure on us from the outside world without adding to it ourselves.  Everything that needs to be done will get done – if we perhaps just take a little more time in the planning and a little less in the rushing!  That first step is already better time management!

Have a good day.

Comments

Thanks Scott, I thoroughly enjoyed your blog ……..my poor husband is always looking for things – he has to remove drawers in the bedroom and bathroom to get into them and takes the whole crisper out of the fridge to find the salad & veg! Last week while he slept, I was in the kitchen trying to work out why the fridge was so making such a shocking noise, only to find he’d replaced the crisper but not on the rails it’s meant for – so it was vibrating!…..followed a couple of days later by helping dad to find his spare glasses – in the drawer he’d looked in twice!

Looking back on it now I still wonder how
My father and mother survived
And I’m more amazed looking back on those days
How it is that I’m still alive

To say as a child I was wild
Is an understatement to be sure
Hyperactive, high strung; from the devil that one
Merely words to a child of four

How was I to know that you shouldn’t let go
Of your new baby sister’s pram
I just wanted to see if she could beat me
In a down hill race to the dam

It seemed as a kid everything that I did
In turn made somebody mad
How’s a child of five supposed to survive
The news that he’s thoroughly bad

What began a scratch of a small wooden match
Cleared most of the trees on our block
It became more intense as it burnt down our fence
Determined it seemed not to stop

But the fire brigade soon came to my aid
And it was out by the end of the day
The fence was replaced by the neighbours with haste
So why all that fuss anyway

For reasons unclear all I ever seemed to hear
Was “young man, go to your room”
And stay there they’d rave  until you learn to behave
My whole life was nothing but gloom

I remember at ten – I was  in trouble again
When I tried my hand at the wheel
I only twisted the key in an effort to see
How being a driver would feel

And then, like a bull breaking loose of a pen
That’s how it was when I hit that stick
It slipped right out of P and straight into D
And the car and I crashed through the brick

The next thing  I recall were my hands on the wall
Awaiting the crack of the cane
As it cut the air to connect with my rear
Though triple underpants helped ease the pain

Recommended by those I considered my foes
Was  a child psychologist
Once a week after school I would sit with this fool
And my childhood I’d reminiscence

My teenage years brought more worries and fears
It was not the kind of life I would choose
I acted the fool which made me uncool
And I was voted most likely to lose

You’ve got a good brain the teacher tried to explain
You just have to put it in gear
Stop all that fooling around and acting the clown
And you might just get through the year

But education for me seemed destined to be
One of those things just out of my reach
But from life I could learn and see a return
So I left school and went to the beach

And there I would have stayed and slowly decayed
Like a sadly neglected tooth
But it lucky for me I met someone who’d see
Something more than just misspent youth

Taught the things I should do if I was to get through
Show business was a hard road to hoe
At school acting the dill helped me nurture my skill
All those days seem so long ago

Now it’s been thirty years since I first heard my peers
Pass on wisdom that could not be bought
and I smile with delight thinking one day I might
Be the teacher instead of the taught

And I really am glad I didn’t turn out to bad
For a while I bought little joy
But from the ashes I rose and it’s all thanks to those
Who saw more than the brat in the boy

It’s funny how the realisation that you’re getting older coincides with you beginning to visit infirmaries and aged care facilities on a more regular basis.  It makes sense.  If you’re getting old, those older than you are probably ancient.  Those establishments, often called ‘God’s waiting room’  -are necessary but not pretty.  Not so much the facility itself, but the indignity that one may have to suffer whilst in there.  I was walking down the corridor of one the other day visiting a relative and I overtook an old woman with a zimmer frame (not a difficult challenge) and as I passed she broke wind loudly mid shuffle! I heard her comment “There’s just no dignity at my stage of life”.   A truer word was never uttered.  If you’re really lucky, the loss of bodily functions will coincide with you losing your mind, so at least you won’t care that you have no control.  You start out helpless and incontinent and end up the same way.  If you haven’t had the chance to stroll down the corridor of an aged care facility, then when you are feeling sorry for your own life I encourage you to do so.  It will make you realise you need to try and squeeze every drop opportunity you can out of life.  No matter what your affliction is there will be an example in the home of why now if the time to take action.  It’ll make you consider exercising more, giving up smoking, losing weight and generally doing whatever it takes to avoid ending up in one of those establishments.  Where an outing is going to the hairdressers – which is two rooms down on a Tuesday.  Hair done, you shuffle back up the corridor to the lunch room.  What’s on the menu today? Ah! Potato and pumpkin puree – always a good choice!  I have always liked that saying “Live today like it is your last but plan as if you will live forever!”  Words to remember.

A special thought goes out to all those men and women who work to care for those who can no longer care for themselves.  Thank you for your unselfish dedication to humanity.

"So this is life"

It happened overnight.  For years I considered myself to be tracking well in the ageing stakes. I believed the publicity, so to speak.  The occasional newspaper write ups that would describe me as “fresh faced” and “clean cut” – “looking much younger than his real age”.  And then one day, while going through the process of parting the three or four short strands of hair left on my head, I looked in the mirror and saw my grandfather. It was all there.  Or not there in the case of my once flowing locks.  With the top button done up on my white shirt, instead of a firm neck resting snuggly against the perimeter of the collar, I could see the gaps large enough to place a finger, an indication that one more part of my body was beginning to lose it’s stiffness, it’s youthful appearance.

And it happened quickly.  Not some slow graceful process that made you feel all the checks and balances of the universe were in place, but more like a slap in the face.  I tried to think back and pinpoint when I may have subconsiously begun to recognise the signs of ageing, but there weren’t any.  Yesterday I was young and today – well I not as young!  So there’s only one thing I can do.  Put in some solid hours researching just what I have to look forward to on the downhill run.

After all isn’t that the reason you go on a roller coaster in the first place?  I mean, the upward climb is slow and pleasant enough, with the ability to take in the view and breath in some fresh air.  But we all know why we’re there. For the downhill run. Once you begin that part of the ride, it’s a nail biting, fast moving, twisting turning, screaming rush to the finish. And then you die.  But we should all be able to say at the end of it “that was one hell of a ride!”

"Did you hear the one about. . . ?"

Laughter they say is the best medicine and I say hear hear!   How wonderful is it to have a good belly laugh. Even a little laugh is worth the time and energy taken to seek it out.   In my keynote “Bringing laughter to life” we consider why it is that a child in grade one laughs an average of 300 times a day yet an adult laughs an average of just 17!  Why this happens is a life lesson for another day.  For now all we need to know is that we must get into the habit of seeking out laughter on a more regular basis in order to begin the process of regeneration and renewal of our child like sense of humour.   This blog is dedicated to laughlines that generate anything from a polite chuckle to a hearty belly laugh!  If we’re lucky every so often we may even discover something  that is ‘fall off your chair’ funny.   How blessed will we be when that happens!  Our main goal  though is to get our minimum laughter limits back up to an acceptable level.  If children laugh an average of 300 times a day the least we as adults should be seeking to maintain is around 100 laughs a day!  By the way, a  laugh can last just a milli-moment ( a single ha!) or continue for what seems an eternity until our eyes begin to water!  What a feeling of euphoria is created in moments like that.  But we don’t go in search of only that level of laughter.

Life Lesson: The length of the laugh is not as important as the lengths we go to to discover laughter!