Jokers

I listened to some good jokes yesterday. Bill's first boss from the Forest Service "The Boz, " came to visit us with his wife Jill. Within five minutes of sipping coffee and eating cookies in the living room, The Boz started with a good one where a lady has learned etiquette. Instead of saying F--- Y--, she substitutes her reactions with "Isn't that nice?"

As I listened, it struck me that it's been a long time since I've gotten into a good joke-telling session. In my carefree youth, I considered myself a premiere joke teller. In fact, my friend Laura used to get mad at me because I often told dirty jokes, so I was always as careful around her as I was with my parents. After all, the first and one of the few times the "F" word ever dribbled out of my mouth, I got a great big spanking.

It was a Saturday night before televison. We three older siblings were the only siblings at the time. We were entertaining ourselves in the kitchen by coming up with words that rhymed with whatever word someone shouted out.

It soon occurred to me that if I just went down the alphabet, I could come up with the words much faster. Hence, if a brother yelled out "near," I'd go "beer, cheer, deer, ear, fear," etc. Then, one of my brothers shouted, "LUCK!" Of course, I immediately jumped in and hardly got down the alphabet before my dad came in the kitchen, spanked me and said to never do that again.

I had no idea what I'd done wrong until the next year at school when someone wrote that bad word in big black letters on the white portable outside Lincoln School. It turned into a school scandal until the culprit was nabbed and punished by our principal Marvel Ekholm.

After I heard about this graffiti crime, a fast track back to the night of rhymes in the kitchen suddenly revealed the motive behind my dad's madness. In spite of their threats to wash our mouths out with soap, I eventually learned and utilized some naughty words. My favorite started with and "S." It seemed to work well for everything. Occasionally, as a talking-under-my-breath teen-ager my folks would accuse me of using that "S" word. They were right.

Along with naughty words came the good jokes, and, at school I reigned as one of the better joke tellers. I loved telling them because I loved laughing. And, when others would laugh, that just made my day. I enjoyed one especially good audience, my friends, Carolyn, Greta and Joan. The highlight of our noon hours at Sandpoint High School was gathering after lunch in front of our lockers in the main hall, exchanging those jokes and giggling our heads off. I always made sure my friend Laura was never around because I still wanted her to be my friend, in spite of my soiled mind.

Once a joke hit the school, it traveled fast---almost as fast as the the line-up that Boots sends to me every morning. As a dial-up computer user, I'm not a fan of forewards, but there are a few foreward people on my list who send on some whoppers. Boots is one. Kathy is another. My daughter-in-law ranks right up there because she's pretty selective with what she sends, and most often her stuff elicits a healthy thigh slapping. Whenever Boots, Kathy or Debbie send me stuff, I foreward it on to one of my brothers, my two kids and to my friend Ann G. who can giggle with the best of them.

Now, after yesterday's living room joke exchange think I've found me a new foreward thinking computer geek from Bonners Ferry. He's a dial-up man, but he doesn't mind waiting for downloads if ya send him a good one. So, I sent him the one I received from Kathy last week, which gives you a cataract test. I won't describe the punch line.

Within minutes of when The Boz received my foreward, he'd countered with a good one about the dangers of cooking with bacon grease. It's been a long time since those noon-hour encounters with my classmates when a joke was exchanged by word of mouth and the ensuing giggles could be heard clear down the hallway.

Only my cats can hear me now when I LOL upon receiving another good cyberjoke. But it's a great feeling knowing there are other jokers out there who know a good one when they see one and feel the need to share. With these folks at the keyboard, I can count on at least one belly laugh a day. If only I could bring Joan, Greta and Carolyn on board, we'd have a really good time.

For now, I'd better get busy and send that "bacon grease foreward" on to Boots, Kathy, Kevin, Ann, Debbie and the kids. It's nice to have a new joker in the cyber-comedy circle. Welcome aboard, Boz.