- Posts tagged Tim McMahon
- Explore Tim McMahon on posterous
THIS FUNNY LIFE: My Ridiculously Improbable Political Dream!
In my dream a fine young candidate for Congressional office made the following impassioned appeal to the voters of his state …
My fellow Americans, (they all start out that way)
I ask you to vote for me in the upcoming election. I have a plan to achieve all the things that I know are important to you -- reduce taxes, eliminate waste, provide medical care for all, keep us safe and secure, and end war. That being said, I would, however, like to set your expectations correctly.
If you make me your Congressperson remember that I will actually have very little influence on anything. Mine is just one vote among hundreds and doesn’t really amount to all that much. So far as my plan goes, it is unlikely that anyone is going to listen to anything a new Congressman has to say. This probably makes sense since it will be my first time in Washington and I have to admit that I really don’t know all that much about anything, much less about how to solve all our nation’s ills. Besides, the good people of my political party raised a lot of money to get me elected, so it’s expected that I will pretty much vote the way they tell me (especially if I want to get reelected in the future ).
You may wonder why I want to be your Congressman. I really do have a strong desire to serve my fellow citizens, but I have to tell you that the ego-boost from holding high office is a real rush! My advisers tell me that I should come across to you as deeply empathetic and sympathetic to the pain of my fellow Americans; but to be honest, if I was really all that sensitive and caring do you think I would be willing to put up with all the abuse and mud-slinging in this campaign? A good politician has to be thick-skinned and remain above it all.
I thank you for your vote next Tuesday.
Yes, it was just a dream. But, oh my, it would have been funny if it had been real!
n TM
THIS FUNNY LIFE: Let's Ban All Words!
Congress passed a new law forbidding the use of the word “retarded” in federal paperwork when referring to an individual with a “developmental disability”. This is a fine thing since that “R” word, and several variations of it, have become rude pejoratives directed to those with special needs. It makes you wonder what mean person came up with such an unkind word to begin with, doesn’t it?
Yes, it makes you wonder … until you find that not so long ago, “retarded” was introduced as a good word to replace the bad words of an earlier time, such as “feebleminded”, “idiot”, and “moron”. In fact, getting the world to use the term “mentally retarded” was a giant positive step forward in its day. So what happened?
It’s a reminder that the meaning and intent of any word is no more and no less than what we assign it to be. Words often reflect the hearts and minds of people, their kindnesses or unkindnesses. Getting rid of a word unfortunately doesn't really change anything - if only it was that easy!
Still, banning the use of certain words might be a really good thing to do … because if we do it aggressively enough then unkind people will find that they have no words to use at all and that will solve the problem.
-- Tim
THIS FUNNY LIFE: Take Heart, America! The Hippies Are Returning...
All of us in the 60’s were at least a little bit “Hippie”. Now, there is a common belief that hippie meant long hair, the exploration of psychedelic substances, and free love (I somehow having managed to miss all three … including the third). There was a fourth “characteristic” too and it was called social consciousness – a burning desire to do something to make the world a better place. Many of the causes we take for granted today – concern for the environment, civil rights, and more – had their genesis in the youth of the 60’s and 70’s.
And then, of course, “life happened” to most of us. Utopian dreams were replaced by the realities of work, home, and family. It’s wasn’t about caring less; there was just so much less time for it. We became practical, for better or worse; grownups concerned about careers, little league, and paying for college.
I watched a famous actor of my generation on one of the talk shows this morning who is retiring from his screen career to become a high school teacher. A good friend of mine recently “retired” from a high-powered position in a large corporation to work full time with the disabled. Neither wants to take his well-earned “retirement” sitting on a beach in St. Pete. The kids are grown, the career pressure is over, but the banked fires of “hippie” social consciousness are still there. And they’re not alone … if there is one statement I hear over and over these days it's this:
"I don’t want to leave this life never having done something to make it better ..."
They tell us that soon the Baby Boomers will be the largest portion of the population, and I wonder if that might be good news – the Return of the Hippies. Most of us have lost our hair, our psychedelics are now prescriptions, and as for free love … well, we just won’t go there. But social consciousness and a desire to give know no age limit; and if it’s still alive then we may have some very good years ahead. Now where the hell did I put my love beads???
Now wouldn't that be funny?
-- Tim
THIS FUNNY LIFE: Just Looking Like Hell ... (sigh)
Life starts to go by faster just when it becomes harder to keep up with it …
If life were in the least bit fair we would become more-abled just when we’re old enough and smart enough to make the most of it.
I was until recently somewhat concerned about this ageing business. Fortunately I have determined that I am still only 25 years old … I just look like hell.
- TM
THIS FUNNY LIFE: 75% Lucky
Saturday night Mitch’s team played under the lights at the high school stadium. At his age, that’s a pretty big thrill all by itself. All of us were there – three generations. Three of my four children, spouses, and kids, under the stars on a warm Fall evening; sitting in the stands laughing and cheering with the littlest ones running up and down the stairs. Later I realized the night wasn’t about the football; it was about the family.
My good fortune is having most of my family all together and being able to spend little times like these together. In future years I am sure these will be the memories which will mean the most to me.
It occurs to me how important it is to collect fine memories now. As a friend of mine once said, she didn’t want to someday end up in the nursing home with nothing to talk about …
If my oldest daughter, Katie, and her family could be brought home to New Hampshire from Virginia then it would have been just about perfect. For now I guess that makes me 75% lucky and I am mostly satisfied.
THIS FUNNY LIFE: Trailer Trash
A free trailer is proof that there is no such thing as a free lunch.
In addition to the fix-up, there has been the matter of obtaining a trailer hitch for the van at a cost of some $200. I then learned from my friendly local policeman that despite the former owner’s assurances to the contrary, purchasing trailer lights and turn signals would be required in addition to registration … oh, and one tire looks like it is now going flat. My wife has most kindly pointed out the number of times (and years) I could have hired “Man with Pickup Truck” for the same expenditures, although I am sure that she does not appreciate the manly convenience of having a dump trailer always at hand.
There is something most satisfying about loading a trailer full with trash, branches, and large items from the clutter of the shed or basement and dumping them with a most resounding crash into the landfill. It compares quite favorably with the thrill I get from powerwashing and I find it equally addictive (but more about that perhaps in the future). I have, however, now run out of obvious refuse to load into my cart and am reduced to begging my wife for further things to dispose of. I have pointed out the place where the cat scratched the couch, rendering it in my opinion, trash, as well at the carpet with a spot on it; but she seems determined to hold on to these substandard items. She suggests I take other people’s trash to the dump but cannot understand that it is just not the same.
It is autumn and I can at least look forward to disposing of large quantities of leaves; but with winter and snows not far away my days of dump trailering are numbered at best. Hopefully she will change her mind about the couch … in the meantime I think I may cut down a tree.
n TM
THIS FUNNY LIFE: Are There Really Any Moose In New Hampshire?
I have noted in my personal moose research that at no time are more than two moose ever seen together and they appear strikingly similar in appearance. This has caused me to develop a generally unfounded hypothesis that there are only two moose in all of New Hampshire, they being owned by the Department of Tourism or some such. Under cover of the dark of night, said moose are being secretly transported by van from place to place, erecting “Moose Crossing” signs where they are led across highways, and then are rapidly positioned and repositioned for the viewing public.
A moose is not an especially fine animal, being noted for nothing more than its general largeness and miserable temper. It is a wonder then why we should not have selected another animal, especially one existing in recognized quantities, the bear or even fisher cat being far more appealing.
I would not wish to create a new scandal in these litigious times, especially one of such potential magnitude, so I shall respectfully withdraw my observation. I should like to be proven wrong, however ... I think that would be entertaining in itself :)
-- TM
THIS FUNNY LIFE: "Please Sir, May I Have A Bit More Summer?" ...
So I find myself once again unable to decide if I am a Summer person or a Winter person. All Winter I dream of days spent in the warm sun ... and in the heat of Summer I long for the chill beauty of deep New England snows. I give this great thought each year and am sure in each season that I know the answer.
I admit, however, that I am never happy to see the end of Summer and never unhappy to see the end of Winter, so perhaps this is telling. Whichever it is, I do not think that I would want to find myself in a place where the seasons never change, where I would never have a new season to look forward to ... or to complain about with my neighbors ... or even to mark and so remember the progress of time.
Still in all, I would not mind turning back the clock a just a month or so to enjoy a bit more Summer.
-- TM
About this photo: "Summer's End - Boothbay Harbor, Maine" - tim mcmahon
THIS FUNNY LIFE: FAKING FUNNY ... On Pretending to Laugh???
Listen to PODCAST
I have yet to think of or observe anything funny today. It is fortunate that the day is not yet over so I have not completely given up hope. I think that no one should go through an entire day without at least being somewhat amused by the human comedy that surrounds us, although I have a concern that real humor is becoming a rarity in today’s world.
I read an article in The New Yorker about the Indian gentleman above, Madan Kataria, who is known as “The Laughing Guru” or “The Guru of Giggling”, questionable sobriquets at best I think. According to the guru, “people should laugh more than they do so, not by relying on humor but by coming together … and faking laughter”. Yes it is now true that there are thousands of “laughter groups” where people gather and pretend to laugh. Apparently this makes them feel better…
Is our modern day world so terribly serious and unfunny that we now have to resort to pretending to laugh? Of course to really laugh requires one to be happy, at least briefly, so perhaps this is the root of the problem … we have forgotten how to be happy.
Fortunately all is not lost and humor does exist all around us, if we but bother to pay attention. I happen to find the very act of existence itself to be quite humorous, whether you believe that this is all one Big Bang accident (which should be a real sidesplitter!) or that God would flub up enough to create something that would give him as much aggravation and frustration as we do. Both, I think, are pretty damn funny.
I suspect God watches us and laughs just to keep His sanity.
I would continue but I must leave for a new SIGH-ing group which I am starting.(sigh) We sit in a circle and take turns sigh-ing for an hour …(more sighs) ... and then go home. We don’t feel any better, but then we don’t feel any worse either. Oh wait, now that I think of it, that’s pretty damn funny!
n TM
THIS FUNNY LIFE: A MOST NOBLE POOCH ...(if I do say so myself)
One day my wife took our overweight but lovable Lab, Mazie, to the veterinarian for her annual checkup and calls me to say that there is a dog up for adoption at the vet’s office who would be a perfect companion to the Lab. We had actually discussed this idea, so it was no real surprise when she called. Now being the agreeable sort that I am, I responded positively asking no questions, trusting blindly and perhaps unwisely in her good judgment and sense. And that is how I became the proud parent of ”Junior", the St. Bernard -- a most gentle giant and inveterate furball.
I do not know a great deal about Junior's past. I have endeavored to talk with him about it on several occasions but I find him reluctant to do so, although he appears attentive to my every word. Junior has, however, become my dog in every way, the Lab being primarily my daughter’s pet. I am reliably informed that Junior waits at the front door whenever I leave, and often remains there, inconsolate, until I return. I am followed faithfully from room to room throughout the day, although I have attempted to draw the line at the toilet, often unsuccessfully. I find his determined watching to be most disconcerting.
Well, it is now time to take Junior on his daily constitutional around the neighborhood. Young children will run up to hug him, cars will stop and look, and someone will invariably yell either "Is he walking you or are you walking him?" or "How much does he eat?" Personally I liked the little boy who wanted to know how big his poops were. Through it all I remain the proud parent.
It is perhaps fortunate that I am neither young nor single since I can reliably report that a white St. Bernard is a guaranteed attention getter, conversation starter, and bona fide "chick magnet".
n -- TM
