Jokes

It's no secret that jokes reveal something about the teller, but also provide some benefit or comfort to the teller.  Jokes are a way of socliciting allies to secret causes.  I love jokes, and I love thinking about them.  It's fascinating that some jokes just resonate with me, and others leave me flat.  I'm not qualified to speak to the hows and whys or the particulars, but I want to share some of my favorites. It may well be that many aspects of myself will be revealed in the choices that I make here, but so be it.  I have no need to hide. Or do I?

Nixon: A Joke

For those of us that lived through the late 60's and the first half of the 70's, there's nothing like a Nixon paranoia joke.  The man was brilliant, but was crippled by paranoia.  So in the height of the Watergate mess Nixon decides to relax a bit and go to an NFL game.  He goes to a Baltimore Colts game (yes, the Colts were in Baltimore then, and the only Manning was Archie, the father).  He enjoys the game and decides to exercise a presidential prerogative and go to the Baltimore lockerroom after the game.  While there he can't help but notice that so many of the players are remarkably well endowed.  He is so fascinated he decides to inquire.  He tentatively approaches Bubba Smith (Police Academy) and asks him why the players are so generously endowed.  Bubba says that the technique is a secret, but since it's the President asking, he'll have to tell the truth.   "Mr. President, all you have to to is whack it against the bedpost three times every night
before you get into bed.  After a few weeks, you'll be amazed at the results."  Nixon is incredulous, but thanks Bubba nonetheless.  That night Nixon is about to get into bed.  Pat is already asleep in the big bed at the White House.  Nixon thinks about what Bubba said.  "What do I have to lose?"  So he whacks it three times against the bedpost.  Pat stirs a bit and mumbles, "Is that you, Bubba?".

Bread and Butter: A Joke

A destitute Polish peasant lives alone in a one-room hut with a dirt floor.  He has only a table, a scrap of bread, and a bit of butter.  He awakes in the morning not knowing how he'll get through the day.  Nonetheless, he spreads the little bit of butter on the scrap of bread.  He puts the bread on the table so he can get some water.  A noise outside startles him.  He jumps up and bumps against the table.  The bread falls to the floor.  It lands on the dirt floor butter side up and is still edible.  He can't believe his good fortune.  He can't understand why he should be so lucky.  He decides to try to find out why.  He goes to the local rabbi, but the rabbi can't explain it.  It makes no sense to him either.  After considering the problem for a while, the rabbi says they have to ask the big rabbi in the big town.  They travel together to the big town and ask the big rabbi.  But he too is stumped.  No explanation.  So they all go to the head rabbi in Warsaw.  They explain what happened to the head rabbi.  He strokes his beard and thinks for several minutes, then says "I understand what happened. Here's the explanation.  You put the butter on the wrong side of the bread."

Why is good fortune so hard to accept?