Friday, March 03, 2006
Beats Me
Jewish comedian Jackie Mason told this joke year ago. “My wife asked me what I wanted for my 60th birthday and I told her I wanted an 11 foot poll “
“Why do you want an 11 foot poll, ”she asked.
“So I can go back to high school and touch all those girls I wouldn’t touch with a 10 foot poll.”
I read yet another story this morning, this one in the LA Times, about a sexual abusing priest who molested boys back in the day and is facing the music in the modern day sort of like a Motown to Rap molester rap video.
Like Jackie Mason if I could go back to high school I’d bring an iron fist to I could punch every priest who sucker slapped me in the face when I was or wasn’t looking, Take me all the way back to fourth grade and I’d be punching penguins! I never realized how violence with directly correlated to celibacy. And I didn’t realize that Nun meant None although there was the joke, “What kind of meat does a priest eat on Friday?” Answer: “Nun!”
A few years back I was telling this story to a group of high school seniors that involved this disturbed priest slapping my in front of the classroom 13 times on the same side of the face. I just stood there because hitting back would be like hitting your mother it just wasn’t an option.
Anyway I always told this story as part of a stand up comedy routine and kids were usually pitching and rolling and laughing in their seats. But for some reason not this day.
I looked down to my left and there was this beautiful almond colored African American girl Adrian with her big eyes and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Adrian looked like a Christmas Ornament in a tropical rainforest.
“Adrian what’s the matter,”I asked. “They shouldn’t oughta done you like that Fredman.”
The entire class sighed, ”ahhh, that’s so sweet.” They weren’t mocking her or me they actually meant it.
Then I got tears in my eyes not because some frustrated loser pounded me when I was 14 but because these kids really cared about me. I was about the comedy not that tragedy and ever since I can’t tell the story because it’s no longer funny.
“What’s the moral Fredman? “
Beats me. I mean I don’t know.
Peace Freddogg
“Why do you want an 11 foot poll, ”she asked.
“So I can go back to high school and touch all those girls I wouldn’t touch with a 10 foot poll.”
I read yet another story this morning, this one in the LA Times, about a sexual abusing priest who molested boys back in the day and is facing the music in the modern day sort of like a Motown to Rap molester rap video.
Like Jackie Mason if I could go back to high school I’d bring an iron fist to I could punch every priest who sucker slapped me in the face when I was or wasn’t looking, Take me all the way back to fourth grade and I’d be punching penguins! I never realized how violence with directly correlated to celibacy. And I didn’t realize that Nun meant None although there was the joke, “What kind of meat does a priest eat on Friday?” Answer: “Nun!”
A few years back I was telling this story to a group of high school seniors that involved this disturbed priest slapping my in front of the classroom 13 times on the same side of the face. I just stood there because hitting back would be like hitting your mother it just wasn’t an option.
Anyway I always told this story as part of a stand up comedy routine and kids were usually pitching and rolling and laughing in their seats. But for some reason not this day.
I looked down to my left and there was this beautiful almond colored African American girl Adrian with her big eyes and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Adrian looked like a Christmas Ornament in a tropical rainforest.
“Adrian what’s the matter,”I asked. “They shouldn’t oughta done you like that Fredman.”
The entire class sighed, ”ahhh, that’s so sweet.” They weren’t mocking her or me they actually meant it.
Then I got tears in my eyes not because some frustrated loser pounded me when I was 14 but because these kids really cared about me. I was about the comedy not that tragedy and ever since I can’t tell the story because it’s no longer funny.
“What’s the moral Fredman? “
Beats me. I mean I don’t know.
Peace Freddogg
