Posted on 03/17/2006 7:41:51 AM PST by NYer
It's my great good fortune to be a fellow of Irish descent. I share my good fortune with a quarter of all Americans, who can also trace their heritage back to the rolling green hills of Ireland.
As a lad, I remember my father, the Big Guy, sitting on the back porch on Sundays. Uncle Mike would sometimes visit for a couple of beers, and few things gave them more pleasure than swapping Irish jokes.
Such as the one about the fellow who was touring the Irish countryside. Hungry, he stopped at a farm and asked for refreshment. The lady of the house served him a bowl of soup. There was a pig in the house that kept running up to the fellow.
"That is the friendliest pig I ever did meet," he said to the woman.
"He's not friendly at all," said the woman. "That's his bowl you're using."
I know that I'm not really "Irish," but an American through and through. I know, too, that I'm also of German descent, and, much to my father's horror, my great grandmother on his side turned out not to be Irish, but 100% French.
Still, in my family we idealize what it means to be Irish. Being Irish means to laugh easily, to never take yourself too seriously, to be wary of getting lost in the narrowness of your own point of view.
Which reminds me of the one about the German spy who is sent to Ireland during World War II. The German is instructed to meet an Irish spy named Murphy and confirm Murphy's identity by saying, "The weather could change by Tuesday."
After the German parachutes into Ireland, he sets off for town. Along the way, he asks a farmer where he might find a man named Murphy.
"Well, sir, it all depends on which Murphy," says the farmer. "We have Murphy the doctor, Murphy the postal carrier, Murphy the stone mason and Murphy the teacher. As a matter of fact, I, too, am Murphy, Murphy the farmer."
The German gets an idea.
"The weather could change by Tuesday," he says.
"Aye," says the farmer, "you'll be wanting Murphy the spy."
James Thurber, one of my favorite humorists, says the wheels of humor are set in motion by the damp hand of melancholy. Aristotle wrote that comedy and tragedy are close cousins. The Irish have long known that humor and laughter are our chief weapons for combating sadness and pain.
Which reminds me of the time a young Irishman tells his mother he's in love. Just for fun, he brings home three girls and asks his mother to guess which of the three he has chosen to be his bride.
After his mother interviews all three, she says, "Your fiancée is the one in the middle."
"That's amazing, ma. How did you know?"
"Because I don't like her."
British academic and joke theorist Christy Davies says a good joke can help clarify and express complex feelings. A good joke can cut to the heart of the matter better than any speech or law or government policy.
If only every country and every culture held such a point of view. How much better the world would be if all people responded to humor by laughing or at least by thinking instead of rioting and blowing things up.
These days, with all the conflict and disagreement going on, we could all profit from a better sense of humor.
Which reminds me of the time Pat explained to Mike why his valiant effort to scale Mount Everest fell short.
"Aye," says Pat, "I would have made it to the top had I not run out of scaffolding."
My wife is Boston Irish and these apply to many in her side of the family, and a few on mine:
You have so much alcohol in your system that your cabbie has to be HazMat certified.
You install shag carpet because its easier to hang on to. Embalming fluid would be an improvement.
Your last Breathalyzer reading was No Effing Way.
Distilleries fight over the billboard nearest to your place of residence.
Your friends often substitute Good night with Hey, you cant sleep here.
When you donate blood they store it in oak barrels.
Your name is police code for Public Intoxication.
Youre fairly sure a letter to Dear Abby signed Want To Leave the Bum, But Cant was written by your liver.
Your favorite drinking game is Do A Shot Every Time You Do A Shot.
Your idea of a seven-course meal is a six-pack and a pizza.
TV beer ads have started addressing you by name.
You brush your teeth with bourbon. It hasnt helped cut down on cavities, but who cares?
You know heavy drinking makes you smarter because you can never remember doing anything stupid while blacked out.
You have a split personalityevery time you meet someone with booze you want to split it with them.
You were so drunk at the office Xmas party that you kissed your own wife.
You become sexually aroused by the tapping of a keg.
You know you can use Jagermeister as cough syrup. And visa versa.
You spill so much booze at home your dog slurs his barks.
Your credit history is composed entirely of bar tabs.
Youre always shaking hands, even when theres no one else around.
Whenever you bend your elbow your mouth snaps open.
When your boss asks you to work overtime you demand time and a fifth.
Your favorite bar is four blocks away six blocks coming back.
The Red Cross uses your blood to sterilize their instruments.
Youre half scotch, and your ancestors arent from Scotland.
You know how to handle your liquor with both hands.
You can tell what bar youre in by the bottoms of their tables.
A liter of scotch isn't enough to invite a friend over for a drink.
You know most the of people in a bar and cant remember one of their names.
Anyone who kisses you must legally wait half an hour to drive.
Youve filed assault charges against a coffee table.
When youre out in the street, you are literally out in the street.
You think of drinking beer as sobering up,
You can say Whiskey, please in 34 languages, but cant understand Last call in English.
You know better than going near an open flame while youre bleeding.
Your bed looks a helluva lot like a park bench, and your bedroom looks a helluva lot like a park.
Youve been cut off during communion.
You wonder why they call it Southern Comfort when they know damn well there is nothing comfortable about being handcuffed in the back of a squad car.
Growing-up means buying better booze, getting older means getting used to the cheap stuff again.
Your bartender never has to ask, Do you want another?
You're favorite method of dieting is the Slim Jim: Ultra Slim-Fast shakes made with Jim Beam.
You fell down two flights of stairs and didnt spill a drop.
When you wake up hungover youre afraid youll die. Half an hour later youre afraid youll live.
You wonder why people need friends when you can just sit in a room and drink all day.
Thanks for the ping! :)
Which reminds me of the time a young Irishman tells his mother he's in love. Just for fun, he brings home three girls and asks his mother to guess which of the three he has chosen to be his bride.
After his mother interviews all three, she says, "Your fiancée is the one in the middle."
"That's amazing, ma. How did you know?"
"Because I don't like her."
Funny, I always thought that was a JEWISH joke! Are there any Jews in Ireland? The potential for humor would be unbelievable! (ducks down to avoid the tomatoes).
Oh well, we're all Irish on St. Patrick's Day!
Lol
little warm up for Saint Paddy's day. Time to get the green threads out of the closet, ...
Oh yes, better hurry down to the local package store before all the Guinness and Bushmills is gone.
An Irishman arrived at J.F.K. Airport and wandered around the terminal with tears streaming down his cheeks. An airline employee asked him if he was already homesick.
"No," replied the Irishman "I've lost all me luggage!"
"How'd that happen?"
"The cork fell out!" said the Irishman.
Irish Alzheimer's: where you forget everything except your grudges.
Irish queer: A man who likes women more than he likes whiskey.
Two Irish guys were walking past a bar....
Hey, it could happen!
The bartender looks at them and says, "What is this, some kind of joke?"
This is the beer line.
The punch line is over there.
All of them good, but I liked the last one the best!
Actually, my dear Irish father, God rest his soul, was more upset that I had become a Republican than he was that my older brother had left the Catholic Church. But he was a pro life patriot so I wonder what he would think of the Democrats now. That same brother is now voting Republican. Another brother is both a practicing Catholic and a Democrat. His wife is getting a coclear implant next week and I told her that she would now be getting messages sent directly to her brain from Limbaugh and Rove. I haven't heard back. :-/
Personally, I have always found that to be a contradiction in terms. You're either a poor Catholic or a poor Democrat. But, hey, that's just me!
Ok, back to the humor portion of the thread!
A remnant remains...even among Democrats. I saw the chief sponsor of the bill restriciting abortion in South Dakota was a Democrat and the bill had support from both parties.
bttt
"Are there any Jews in Ireland? The potential for humor would be unbelievable! (ducks down to avoid the tomatoes).
Oh well, we're all Irish on St. Patrick's Day!"
There is the theory that one of the lost tribes of Israel wound up in Ireland!! Would certainly explain alot!!
Did you hear about the two Irish homosexuals, Patrick Fitzwilliam, and William Fitzpatrick
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