Saturday Cartoons

Not meaning to offend, but then again, maybe I am. It aint that I am not good at this 'love' stuff, but more so that its like frustration setting itself into concrete.


Yes, it is offensive

I can remember getting my first idea of what humor is/was in the early days of my existence in front of a TV or a radio. Sometimes even the LP record player had something of comedy playing. Our Ohana (family unit) was pretty open minded for the 60's and 70's I guess. Gram & Gramps were pretty straight laced, but my Pops would come home from a long day an ask my Mom if 'It' (that'd be me) was asleep. Dad has a pretty good sense of humor. Momhawaiianmark is/was still pretty hip for 70+ years. She isn't cool with swearing and the like ... "ooooh! Don't say that, say shoots or fiddlesticks instead" ... But having grown up practically in a locker room, it wasn't to be my forte to be..Ah hum, politically correct 100% of the time.

So how do you handle delicate matters of opinion differences with someone you love? It has occurred (been driven in with a ball-peen hammer) to me that the best way is with a bit of humor, and comedic interpretation. It usually beats screaming your head-off at the top of you lungs till you turn blue in the face by a wide margin. Then again, sometimes just getting yourself upset is a comic exercise in itself.

You know like, say you are gonna kick some soft object to release tension or something, and it is actually some sort of steel thing? Ouch. Or really get revved up and do a bunch of chores around the house, but you splash the comet in your face? Or mix Ajax and bleach, and toxic gases release and fry your nasal and lung areas? Ohh that's a bitch. Jam some yardwork? Not if you hack off the branches and they careen off your skull. Weedwack you shins instead of the grass. Now that is uncomfortable.

Sometimes maybe the confrontation is just a laugh riot in and of itself? How many times is it whatever you were disagreeing about gets forgotten in the length of discourse? Maybe my type of schedule makes that happen more often than not.

It might be good that sometimes folks don't have to deal with my sense of jocularity for 24 hours or more - Absence may actually make the heart grow fonder, eh?

OK, I am done. Too much work, not enough hours in the day to face whatever the gods of stress and indecision want to throw my way.

Pinches of humor in my day make all the crap smell like ginger.

Aloha.