LECTURERS VERSUS LISTENERS

     What is going on in the mind of listeners to lecturers, and vice versa? 

LECTURERS (from the viewpoint of  listeners):

The Sleep Walker: Is it possible his psychoanalyst forgot to bring this somnambulist out of his hypnotic trance at their last session? His monotones bore into listeners the same doped expression seen on sun-drugged toads.

Reactions:

     *What a great bedtime story teller this guy would make!

     *I wonder where he gets his barbiturates.

     *Guess I'll skip this one next time.

The Athlete: He strides about the room throwing his body into great contortions of masculine posing, waving his arms, pounding the desk to drive his points home. Tomorrow no one will remember a thing he has said because they were too engrossed in watching his calisthenics.

Reactions:

     *Oh, yeah, that's the one, the "pose that refreshes"! 

     *If you need the men's room, man, it's down the hall on the left.

     *Guess I'll skip this one next time.

The Comedian: He stops every few moments to look at his notes, snickers slyly to himself, then continues with a chicken grin on his face. This leaves listeners sitting on the edge of their seats, but the funny part never comes.

Reactions:

     *Okay, you laid it, now cackle!

     *You didn't used to write for TV sit-coms, did you?

     *Guess I'll skip this one next time.

The Star Gazer: He examines his fingernails, looks down at his shoes while wiping them on the backs of his pantlegs, speculates on the ceiling, stares out the window. He looks everywhere but at the listeners.

Reactions:

     *Well, you're not so easy on the eyes yourself!

     *I'd be embarrassed too if I didn't have more to say than that!

     *Guess I'll skip this one next time.

The Town Crier: He makes himself heard through listeners' ennui by shouting. But it seems to be all bark and no "bite"! 

Reactions:

     *Sir, you raise your voice when you should reinforce your arguments!\    

     *Oh, tie up, Jack, my hangover is killing me.

     *Guess I'll skip this one next time.

Delirium Tremens: This lad can't keep his hands still. He winds his watch, twirls his Fybate key, straightens papers on his lecturn, holds his watch to his ear and stares at it as if it has let him down, and so on and on ad infinitum.

Reactions:

     *I agree, pal, It's one helluva long lecture.

     *Wonder who he has the heavy date with. She sure must have trouble with those hands.

     *Guess I'll skip this one next time.

LISTENERS (from the viewpoint of lecturers):

Sleight-of-Mind: That one is drowning in a sea of education . Eyes are glazed, mouth is open trapping flies, breathing is hard as though in pain. No one is sure, in fact, that he hasn't been dead for some time.

Reactions:

     *Must be Monday all over again.

     *There must be an easier way to make a living!

     *Maybe I'd do better working with the mentally retarded. (Maybe I AM working with the mentally retarded!)

The Jitterbug: That kid must have ants in his pants. He twitches, he squirms. Step right up, ladies and gents, see the boy with the reflexes of a worm.

Reactions:

     *I hope you don't wear anything out squirming around in your seat like that.

     *Maybe it's some kind of new mating dance.

     *Oh, the money I could make on the carny circuit with this bunch of freaks!

The Lady Politician: Is she coming up here to polish the apple again? I note she's in a front row seat again too, with her skirt riding about C-level. Get over yourself, girl!

Reactions:

     *Forget it, sweet lips. I'm young enough to remember, but old enough to know better.

     *Okay, smile. So you got your own teeth. Just wait ten years!

     *Why oh why, didn't I go into the ministry like mother wanted?

The Eager Beaver: She writes everything down, even the jokes. Maybe she'll get them later. She must be practicing her shorthand. At least she'll get something out of the course that way.

Reactions:

     *Notes to you, too, chicken little.

     *Watch me bring her out of her trance by working the word "sex" into the next sentence.

     *Why do you come to class? Why not just send your tape recorder?

The Good-time Charlie: Our resident lady killer is sporting Brut lotion today. Must have bathed in it because I smell it clear up here. Looks like he pitched a bitch last night again, too. His hands are shaking so much his notes will look like hieroglyphics. And he hasn't moved his head since he sat down. Must hurt a lot.

Reactions:

     *That must be what is meant by "school ghoul" complexion.

     *I'll bet he never gets a haircut, just an oil change.

     *Why, in all that is holy, didn't we both stay home today and sleep off this lecture?

 The Hero Worshiper: I'm going to teach when I grow up too!

Reactions: 

     *In His infinite wisdom the lord would not allow it, I'm sure.

     *I'm sure you have just said that for effect but, just the thought of it makes me wonder where I went wrong.

     *By the time you're ready to teach it will be outmoded. Students will probably step into a telephone booth, be bombarded by audio-visual programs and step back out with a sheepskin.

    

PUN FUN

     It's been said puns are lowest type of humor on the laugh meter. But I'll still bet you get some chuckles out of the bunch collected here.

I tried to catch some fog. I mist.

When chemists die, they barium.

Jokes about German sausage are the wurst.

A soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned
veteran.

I know a guy who's addicted to brake fluid. He says he can stop any time.

How does Moses make his tea? Hebrews it.

I stayed up all night to see where the sun went. Then it dawned on me.

This girl said she recognized me from the vegetarian club, but I'd never
met herbivore.

I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. I can't put it down.

I did a theatrical performance about puns. It was a play on words .

They told me I had type A blood, but it was a type-O.

This dyslexic man walks into a bra.

I didn't like my beard at first. Then it grew on me.

A cross-eyed teacher lost her job because she couldn't control her pupils?

When you get a bladder infection, urine trouble.

What does a clock do when it's hungry? It goes back four seconds..

I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me!

Broken pencils are pointless.

What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus.

England has no kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool.

I used to be a banker, but then I lost interest.

I dropped out of communism class because of lousy Marx.

All the toilets in London police stations have been stolen.

Police say they have nothing to go on.

I took the job at a bakery because I kneaded dough.

Velcro - what a rip off!

You Know It's Going to Be a Bad Day When.....

YOU KNOW IT'S GOING TO BE A BAD DAY WHEN.....

...the bird outside your bedroom window, that woke you up, is a vulture.

...your bed companion rolls over and asks. "Who are you?"

...you put your bra accidentally on backwards...and it still fits.
...You turn to put on the rest of your clothes and there aren't any.

...you absent-mindedly try to fit both contact lenses into the same eye.

...your pet rock sneers at you in the mirror as you are putting on your makeup.

...you make a donation for the Red Cross while shaving.

...your car horn gets stuck on the way to work, while driving behind a group of Hell's Angels bikers.

..you find the TV crew from "60 Minutes" waiting outside your office.

...you get to work only to have a co-worker tell you the hem of your dress is tucked into the back of your pantyhose.
...your boss tells you not to bother to take off your hat.

...your e-mail includes a notice your Internal Revenue payment check has bounced.

...you call your answering service and they don't answer.

...you call your twin sister and find she has forgotten your birthday.

...the frosting on the birthday cake your co-workers have arranged for melts from the heat of all those candles.

...you call the number a friend has given you for a blind date and it turns out to be your ex.
...you call the Suicide Prevention Hotline and they put you on hold.

...you turn on the TV news to find they are showing emergency routes out of the city.

And so you decide you have nothing more to lose by leaving, no matter what the emergency is!

METAPHORICALLY SPEAKING

     Metaphors are part of the writer's arsenal. But anyone can have fun thinking them up. The most common one that usually comes to mind is "Faster than a speeding bullet", taken from the Superman introduction.
    Try your image-making skills by adding to the following ones for "Faster than..."

FASTER THAN...
...a chain smoker's light-up in the morning.
...a bald man's comb-out.
...a politician's handshake.
...a six-year old can get dirty.
...a mother's sympathy.
...a waitress can pick up a $5 tip.
...a minute lube job on you car.
...the horn on the car behind you when the light turns green.
...a teenager's change of crushes.
...a gigolo's wink.
...a new puppy can cuddle.
...the neighborhood gossip.
...a Don Rickles put-down.
...an anteater's tongue.
...a pricked balloon's pop.
...a doctor's bill arriving.
...a lawyer's plea bargain.
...a sports announcer using a cliche.
...a rookie referee's whistle.
...a National Football League punter falls down when touched by a line rusher.

HIS AND HERS

     Teen agers often like to have his' and her's matching this or that, like matching bracelets with each others names on them, or matching T-shirts with her wearing one labeled "His" and him wearing one labeled "Hers" and so on. But recently I read about this cute practice being turned up a notch. A Manhattan designer named Ben Kahn was offering matching "his" and "hers" fur coats in Nutria or Black Seal for $2,000 each. Topping that, Nieman-Marcus of Dallas featured his and hers bathtubs, at $4,000 each, and black willow Minks at $50,000 each. There were, regretfully, "Sold out" signs on other models costing $75,000.
     These examples haven't exactly started a trend, but there have been a number of other unusual his-and-hers items noted in the media...enough to see that the theme has caught onto the public fancy. For example, in Lawndale, Maryland, a car was noted with the names of opposing political candidates on opposite sides of the rear bumper. One candidate had "His", the other "Hers", under them.
    Another report had a European made station wagon with flag decals on the side windows. One side sported an Irish one marked "His" and the other side had a French one marked "Hers". Awhile later the reporter noted the addition of  American flag decals alongside them. It seems the owners had become American citizens.
    In Malibu, California, there were a pair of Cadillacs noted with license plates "His" and "Hers". "He" got the special plates after she garnered a dented fender on "hers". A Portsmouth couple, with matched Porsches, smilingly reported he parks his in front of their house and she parks hers in back, giving them both "a front Porsche and a back Porsche".
     Where but in Southern California would you find his and hers auto accidents? The wife comes home distraught and relates to her husband that a car banged into her from behind at a stop sign. Then he tells her he had his car banged into also, while waiting for a car ahead to make a left turn. Discussion turned up the fact that both accidents happened at 4 PM. at intersections of Beverly Boulevard.
     In Bismarck, ND, a home-planning husband devised what he considered a realistic garage. On one door of the double garage he painted "His" and on the other, which was two feet wider, he painted "Hers".
     Then there was the bachelor apartment sporting a pair of towels racked in the bathroom labeled "His" and "To Whom It May Concern". While, in another household, with kids, were three towel racks. One was "His", a really clean, neat one was "Hers" and a scruffy, dirty one was "Theirs". Another household with kids also had three towel holders: "His", "Hers" and a huge bath towel labeled "Little League". Next to these was one more rack- holding a fancy embroidered towel - labeled "Hands off", for guests, of course. Adding a bit of humor was the politician who threatened to put up towels in the State House loo labeled "Hems" and "
Haws".
     The bedroom of a model home in Bayside, NY reportedly had three closets, on which the male realtor had attached temporary signs stating: "His", "Hers" and "Probably hers also".
     Behind a duplex, where a young male lived in one half and a young female lived in the other half, there were two trash cans. The male, embarrassed by garbage men jibes about all the feminine product packages in their garbage, painted "His" on his can. She, no less embarrassed by all the booze bottles and beer cans in his, then painted "Hers" on hers.
     Perhaps the cleverest advertising clone was the magazine subscription company hyping two-subscriptions for the price of one - His and Her magazine choices. But the most useful item of all has to be the Party Blanket sold by Collegiate Hall of Warren, Ohio. The blanket is ideal for everything from beach parties to the big game, with two quilted triple pockets for keeping hands warm and stowing bottles of good cheer. Available with either "Jack" and "Jill" or "His" and "Hers" embroidered on the twin pockets.
     Varied entrepreneurs at various times have jumped onto the his-and-hers merchandising gimmick with gusto. A hair stylist in Los Angeles was touting his and hers curlers for sale. A Bucks County, Pennsylvania man named Don Kooker started marketing his and hers walking sticks in 1967, hand crafted from highly polished walnut, topped with a sterling disk bearing the Kooker coat of arms and with buyers initials included: $45. The Wanderlust and Woodland Nymph sticks measured 37, 34 or 31 inches in length, while the He-Man Staff, the Stallion Stick and the Sire's Scepter measured.46, 43 and 40 inches respectively. Eventually they were selling in U.S. stores like Saks Fifth Avenue, Neiman-Marcus and Abercrombie & Fitch and one was bought by none other than noted walker Queen Mum Elizabeth of England.
     The Industrial Savings Bank of Flint, Michigan, some years back, introduced his and hers bank vaults. According to ads the 432-square feet "hers" vault was suitable for "gems, silver and gold, stocks, cash and other personal mementos". The 1,054-square feet "his" was suitable for storing small personal collections of "art, antique automobiles, firearms and cash". Just the thing for pre-nup couples.
     Not every merchandising brainstorm works, of course. Firestone once (in the 1960s) toyed with the idea of auto tires with flowered sidewalls. Tires for men would feature a wide, bold tread, while those for women would be fashioned with colored studs in the tread and a flowery sidewall stripe. Never got out of the experimental stage, though.
     Another failure was the Italian Fiat Vanessa 850 prototype auto in 1966. It featured violet interiors, a turntable driver's seat for easy entrance and exit, an elegant cosmetics bag within easy reach, along with a multitude of practical features, like safety belts for children, a rear window designed to open so a shopper could remove groceries easily from the back seat, and the trunk divided into various storage compartments. Men didn't go for the violet boudoir look and, as it turned out, women did not especially want an "exclusively feminine" car.
     I would be lax if I didn't mention that other his-and-hers pairing necessary in every booze palace. The Onaway Bar in Washington, owned by a fancier of bird dog, has its toilets labeled "Pointers" and "Setters". He says some people will stand and look at those doors for five minutes before they figure out which one to open.
     When the newer Atlanta Braves baseball stadium construction was not quite complete by opening night, temporary signs,  "Braves" and "Squaws", were mounted on toilets.Complaints were numerous. Not as numerous as the quizzical queries arising at a Bedfordshire, England factory being built that had three similar doors in a hallway marked "Ladies", "Gentlemen" and , between them, one labeled "Experimental".
   

A MOTHER-IN-LAW RANT

     My mother-in-law and I never got along.
     When she came to visit all I thought of was just another mouth to heed. Most people who think the art of conversation is dead have to sit in a movie audience to find out how wrong they are. But not me. My mother-in-law gets up first thing in the morning, brushes her teeth, then sharpens her tongue.
     She's a woman of a few (thousand) words - a born controversationalist.. In her case, whoever named it small talk was a poor judge of quantity. If exercise eliminates fat, I don't understand what she is doing with a double chin.
    She's a chain talker, lighting one sentence right off the spark of the last. I think it is nice to be able to hold a conversation, but I think you ought to let go of it now and then too.  She's so wound up in herself that, when she looks out a window she can't see any further than her own reflection. She really keeps our conversations ho-humming. Even when she talks about me, she bores me.
    She doesn't just enter a room, she invades it. Someone warned me that she was outspoken, but they could never name by who. You've heard people arguing pro and con, but her "pro" means her convincing and unanswerable statements, while "con" is the contemptible drivel of the person arguing with her. And she can always back up her logic with readings. She reads a lot, though it's actually only enough to keep her misinformed.
     I think I'd pay money to hear her argue with one of those tobacco auctioneers. It wouldn't make any difference to her if she understood him or not. Once she was hoarse for a week trying to have the last word with an echo. Yet she always says she is willing to meet people half-way. What she means, unfortunately, is that she will admit she's wrong if you will admit she's right.

THE NAVY WAY*

       A US Navy cruiser anchored in Mississippi for a week's shore leave.

       The first evening, the ship's Captain received the following
  note from the wife of a very wealthy and influential plantation owner:
       "Dear Captain, Thursday will be my daughter Melinda's Debutante Ball.
  I would like you to send four well-mannered, handsome, unmarried
  officers in their formal dress uniforms to attend the dance. They should arrive promptly at 8:00 PM      prepared for an evening of polite Southern conversation. They should be excellent dancers, as
  they will be the escorts of lovely refined young ladies. One last
  point: No Jews please."

       Sending a written message by his own yeoman, the captain replied:
  "Madam, thank you for your invitation. In order to present the widest
  possible knowledge base for polite conversation, I am sending four of
  my best and most prized officers.
       "One is a lieutenant commander, and a graduate of Annapolis with an
  additional Master’s degree from MIT in fluid technologies and ship
  design.
      "The second is a Lieutenant, one of our helicopter pilots, and a
  graduate of Northwestern University in Chicago , with a BS in
  Aeronautical Engineering. His Master’s Degree and PhD. In Aeronautical
  and Mechanical Engineering are from Texas Tech University and he is
  also an astronaut candidate.
       "The third officer is also a lieutenant, with degrees in both computer
  systems and information technology from SMU and he is awaiting
  notification on his Doctoral Dissertation from Cal Tech.
       "Finally, the fourth officer, also a lieutenant commander, is our
  ship's doctor, with an undergraduate degree from the University of
  Georgia and his medical degree is from the University of North
  Carolina . We are very proud of him, as he is also a senior fellow in
  Trauma Surgery at Bethesda ."

       Upon receiving this letter, Melinda's mother was quite excited and
  looked forward to Thursday with pleasure. Her daughter would be
  escorted by four handsome naval officers without peer (and the other
  women in her social circle would be insanely jealous).

        At precisely 8:00 PM on Thursday, Melinda's mother heard a polite rap
  at the door which she opened to find, in full dress uniform, four very
  handsome, smiling Black officers.
        Her mouth fell open, but pulling herself together, she stammered,
  "There must be some mistake."
       "No, Madam," said the first officer. "Captain Goldberg never makes mistakes."

     (This was forwarded to me without origination credit. But I think it needs to be more widely printed and read and I suspect the writer who penned it will approve (since this blog is not commercialized by accepting crass filthy lucre).