Leave it to Beaver

Question: What's the first sexual line uttered on commercial television?

Answer: Ward, I think you're being too hard on the beaver.

It's an old joke but it still makes me laugh. It's one of those where you only have to say the punchline. Everyone over 40 gets it.

I've been accused of looking at my childhood through rose-colored glasses. That's probably true. Still, it's more fun to remember the good times. My worst times would be considered insignificant and lame compared to what many children experience.

It wasn't exactly Beaverland. For instance, my mother never vacuumed while wearing a dress and pearls. She was more likely to put on lively music and dance around. My father didn't sit around in a suit and tie while reading the paper. He was more likely to take me to dance rehearsal or roll on the floor with the dog.

They didn't go to business dinners or evening affairs. We ate dinner together. This doesn't mean they didn't have a social life. While we rugrats were running around the neighborhood, they gathered on a porch. (We didn't care what they were doing as long as they left us alone.)

My parents still gather with the neighbors. I don't know if they sit on the porch but I know they have a standing game night. I'm a little jealous.

So, here I go again with rose-colored glasses...

Just Talking

I talk to the maniac dog a lot. Usually I'm reminding her that I am the only person in the world who likes her so she ought to behave.

Sometimes, I look at the caller ID on my phone and then I say, "I'm busy." I'm just talking to the phone. I did not answer.

Lately, I'm mumbling. I can be writing a proposal or doing the crossword. It's that under your breath kind of speaking. I suspect it's an oldies thing. The husband rolls his eyes. Wonder where he got that?

The old joke is that talking to yourself is okay but when you start answering, you're in trouble. Hmmmm ...

Punchlines

The oldies did not always get our humor. I'll be the first to admit that the language can get raw and and the subject matter can get out of hand.

Some people are really good at telling a joke. Some people, like the husband, get accused of turning every joke into a shaggy dog story.

Within your family or your close circle of friends, there comes a point where you don't have to tell the story. You can just blurt out the punchline and everyone cracks up.

When we go to the lake or on vacation with friends, we have it down to a secret language. (There might be some wine involved.)

My faves:

They stuck me with a chihuahua?
The Thompson twins are drunk again.
A good goat will do that.
Two pickets to Titsburg.

That last one isn't the punchline but you'll know immediately if you've heard the joke.

It's kind of like a song you've heard before.

Being (self-diagnosed) slightly autistic, I laugh every time.

Humor

Humor is selective, don't you think? Lots of people (including some of my friends) do not understand when and/or why I find something hysterically funny.

"Mean" has been called more than once. I let it pass.

When there's some interesting story on the news about a man that survived a bowling ball crashing through his windshield, I will laugh. Once the oldies were safe and I thought about our neighbor saying, "Someone's grandpa is on the loose," I laughed a lot.

I don't like racist or ethnic jokes but crude jokes will make me laugh.

My mother and the husband can make me laugh more than anyone. I have actually fallen out of bed with both of them (not at the same time -- we're not that weird) from laughing too hard.

I often joke that the husband would bring a date to my funeral. No one likes this joke but me. I think he would be classy enough to leave her in the car.

If this situation should ever come to pass, I hope she can outrun my girlfriends and I hope she has a great sense of humor.