I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, right now I’m on hold with Social Security. It’s been at least about a day and a focking half by now and the hell if I’m going to put the phone down and maybe lose my well-earned place in line; so I’ll have to peck away at this essay one-handed. Could take some time, not to mention that the repetitive “hold music” is making me more than a bit queasy. I wonder if they ever tried this tactic with the terrorists down by the Guantanamo. Cripes, at this point I’ll confess to anything just to bring this ordeal to a close, what the fock.Anyways, so we still don’t know beyond a shadow doubt about Russian collusion and Trumpel-thinskin in the 2016 election, it seems. But from a historical perspective let me tell you that the other day I stumbled upon a re-broadcast of the old “The Dick Cavett Show.” One of the guests on the show was the great political satirist Mort Sahl (still with us). And here’s a quote by Mort from March 3, 1972, a few days after Dick Nixon’s return from his China jaunt:
“The only way a Republican can be elected in this country, in my opinion, when the people are in their right minds, is if the Communists select him. The Republicans should be very glad that there are Communists around the world who will elect Republicans by embracing them.” Shazam!
And for those Republicans who think President Orange Circus Peanut is the greatest thing since President Orange Hair, Mort could tell you this: “Washington couldn't tell a lie, Nixon couldn't tell the truth, and Reagan couldn't tell the difference.” Ba-ding!
Jeez louise, I’m still on hold and so not fully focking engaged here. Besides, this pecking away with one hand is for the focking birds, so what’s say we dip into Artie’s Joke Bag and just call it a day.
Since it’s now football season, how ’bout this one: So this family of pro football fans from Chicago heads out one Saturday to do their Christmas shopping. While in the sports store, the young son picks up a Green Bay Packers jersey and says to his older sister, “Hey Sis, I’ve decided to become a Packer fan and I’d really like this for Christmas.” She can’t believe it, smacks him on the head and says, “You better go talk with mom.”
And off he goes with the Green Bay Packer jersey in hand and says to his mother, “Hey Mom, I’ve decided I’m going to be a Packer fan, and I’d really like this jersey for Christmas.” The mother is outraged, smacks him on the head and says, “Go see your father.”
So the young lad finds his father and says, “Dad, guess what? I’m going to be a Packer fan, and I’d really like this Aaron Rodgers jersey for Christmas.” The father is so beside himself that he whacks his son on the head and says, “No son of mine is ever going to be seen in THAT piece of crap!”
About a half-hour later they’re all back in the car heading toward home. The dad turns to the boy and says, “Son, I hope you’ve learned something today.” The son says, “Yes pop, I have. I’ve only been a Packer fan for about an hour, and already I’ve learned to hate you Illinois sons-of-bitches.” Ba-ding!
Hey, considering the health care mess we’ve got these days—with these health insurance companies trying to figure a way to bill you for each and every breath you take—I say laughter is the best medicine, which reminds me of a little story: Guy goes to see his doctor for a checkup (a “checkup”—those were the days, ain’a?). “So Doc, think I can live to be a hundred?” Doctor says, “Well sir, do you smoke or drink?”
“Neither done either one,” the guy says. The doctor continues, “Do you gamble, drive fast cars, fool around with loose women?” The guy says, “Never done any of those things, either.”
“Well sir,” doctor says, “why the hell do you want to live to a hundred for?” Ba-ding!
Got time for one more? A lesson for you’s thespians out there about commitment to the part: This guy walks into a pet store and says, “I’m playing Long John Silver in our community theater production of Treasure Island, and I’m looking for a parrot. Can you sell me one?” The pet-store owner says, “You don’t want a real parrot. It’ll squawk all the time and crap on your shoulder, and what if it flies off during the play?” The guy says, “But I really need to be as realistic as possible.” The pet-store owner says, “I’ve got a stuffed parrot you can use. Can you pick it up Thursday?” And Mr. Actor says, “Thursday? No can do. I’m scheduled to have my right leg amputated below the knee.” Ba-ding!
Yes sir, still holding on the best I can ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.