How did everybody get so angry over the last fifty to sixty years? Why the rage?
Compared to our antecessors of sixty, seventy, and eighty years ago, most of us are living the dream. We are one of the wealthiest countries in the world; if in need, we get financial assistance from government and social agencies; we are building bigger homes for smaller families; we drive safer cars; we own devices for communication and entertainment undreamed of in 1950; we receive health care unimaginable to our great-grandparents, we eat foods from around the world; we still have the freedom to make something of ourselves if we choose to do so.
So why are so many of us so ticked off so much of the time?
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe most ordinary Americans lead contented lives. Maybe my impression of anger stems from the people I read online, columnists, protesters, purported victims, who fulminate, explode, screech, whine, and throw tantrums.
Compared to our antecessors of sixty, seventy, and eighty years ago, most of us are living the dream. We are one of the wealthiest countries in the world; if in need, we get financial assistance from government and social agencies; we are building bigger homes for smaller families; we drive safer cars; we own devices for communication and entertainment undreamed of in 1950; we receive health care unimaginable to our great-grandparents, we eat foods from around the world; we still have the freedom to make something of ourselves if we choose to do so.
So why are so many of us so ticked off so much of the time?
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe most ordinary Americans lead contented lives. Maybe my impression of anger stems from the people I read online, columnists, protesters, purported victims, who fulminate, explode, screech, whine, and throw tantrums.
Some days I am torn about how to respond to such acrimony, trying to decide whether to 1) shut myself off completely and permanently from all the news of the day and just live with my books and my writing; 2) regard the name-calling and egg-throwing as a three-ring circus providing entertainment; 3) descend into serious depression; 4) join the yowling mob with my own snarky attacks (OK, I yield to this temptation at times, and will doubtless yield again); or 5) give way to laughter at those who declare we all are going to hell in a handbag.
(Why do people always go to hell in a handbag? If I must go to hell, I’d prefer a limousine with a fully stocked bar; a collection of books I love; a picnic basket (Reuben sandwich for me, please, and yes, I know all that cheese, dressing, and corned beef bombards the arteries, but why would I care? I’m going to hell); Sara Bareilles and Nora Jones on the radio; a woman at my side possessed of the beauty of the girl I took to my last high school prom, the wit of Alice Thomas Ellis, and the romantic wisdom of German author Nina George; and a chauffeur who drove five miles an hour tops.)
Today I’m knocking at Door #5: Humor.
Laughter is good medicine. Sometimes we are in need of it. Today I am in need of it. Enough with the rancor. Time to seek out amusement.
If you want to come along, you’ll find below some quotes from celebrities and famous people, with a few of my comments, all of which may be harmlessly imbibed.
The quotations I lifted from Robert Byrne’s The 2548 Best Things Anybody Ever Said, a book with a misleading title but a boatload of humor.
Enjoy.
A single sentence will suffice for modern man: He fornicated and read the papers. Albert Camus (Ouch! What the heck, Albert? Bad hair day? By the way, “Man” is now politically incorrect, and newspapers are as dead as civility on the Internet. Plus, you left drinking coffee off the list.)
If you look good and dress well, you don’t need a purpose in life. Fashion consultant Robert Pante (True, true, and true. From that regrettable moment in middle school when I appeared on a South Carolina beach in loafers and black socks to my knees, I knew I needed a purpose in life if I was to survive.)
Nice guys finish last, but we get to sleep in. Evan Davia (I don’t sleep in, and I still finish last. One more conundrum to ponder.)
Why is there so much month left at the end of the money? Unknown (A question many ask, but few can answer.)
You know you’re old when you notice how young the derelicts are getting. Jeanne Phillips (Point taken, Jeanne. Not only that, but some of us old guys, when we neglect shaving for a couple of days, could hit the sidewalk with palm outstretched. “Hey, man, spare a buck?” Note to myself: Hang onto those baggy black pants with the holes in the knees.)
It is impossible to imagine Goethe or Beethoven being good at billiards or golf. H.L. Mencken (Agreed. On the other hand, I can see Julius Caesar sticking it to his opponents on the back nine or Napoleon squinting his eyes, leaning over the green felt, and saying “Eight ball in the side pocket.”)
I used to be Snow White, but then I drifted. Mae West (Ah, Mae. You speak for most of humankind.)
I’m as pure as the driven slush. Tallulah Bankhead (Another snow joke? Well, it’s April, and just two days ago the sky was spitting snow.)
Having children is like having a bowling alley installed in your brain. Martin Mull (Anyone who has small children will determine this statement beyond debate. The rest of you need to move along. Nothing to see here.)
I have to think hard to name an interesting person who does not drink. Richard Burton, British actor (Donald Trump doesn’t drink, yet he seems to interest quite a few people these days.)
What an author likes to write most is his signature on the back of a check. Brendan Francis (Dear reader, let me suggest an experiment. I’ll volunteer as the subject, the lab rat, if you will. Mail me a check, and I will let you know if the hypothesis introduced by Mr. Francis is correct.)
I’m astounded by people who want to “know” the universe when it’s hard enough to find your way around Chinatown. Woody Allen (Agreed. On the other hand, we have GPS now, so maybe Chinatown is navigable.)
A penny saved is a Congressional oversight. (No comment needed).
He who laughs, lasts. Mary Pettibone Poole (Sometimes laughter is the only medicine we’ve got. And sometimes it’s exactly the medicine we need.)
(Why do people always go to hell in a handbag? If I must go to hell, I’d prefer a limousine with a fully stocked bar; a collection of books I love; a picnic basket (Reuben sandwich for me, please, and yes, I know all that cheese, dressing, and corned beef bombards the arteries, but why would I care? I’m going to hell); Sara Bareilles and Nora Jones on the radio; a woman at my side possessed of the beauty of the girl I took to my last high school prom, the wit of Alice Thomas Ellis, and the romantic wisdom of German author Nina George; and a chauffeur who drove five miles an hour tops.)
Today I’m knocking at Door #5: Humor.
Laughter is good medicine. Sometimes we are in need of it. Today I am in need of it. Enough with the rancor. Time to seek out amusement.
If you want to come along, you’ll find below some quotes from celebrities and famous people, with a few of my comments, all of which may be harmlessly imbibed.
The quotations I lifted from Robert Byrne’s The 2548 Best Things Anybody Ever Said, a book with a misleading title but a boatload of humor.
Enjoy.
A single sentence will suffice for modern man: He fornicated and read the papers. Albert Camus (Ouch! What the heck, Albert? Bad hair day? By the way, “Man” is now politically incorrect, and newspapers are as dead as civility on the Internet. Plus, you left drinking coffee off the list.)
If you look good and dress well, you don’t need a purpose in life. Fashion consultant Robert Pante (True, true, and true. From that regrettable moment in middle school when I appeared on a South Carolina beach in loafers and black socks to my knees, I knew I needed a purpose in life if I was to survive.)
Nice guys finish last, but we get to sleep in. Evan Davia (I don’t sleep in, and I still finish last. One more conundrum to ponder.)
Why is there so much month left at the end of the money? Unknown (A question many ask, but few can answer.)
You know you’re old when you notice how young the derelicts are getting. Jeanne Phillips (Point taken, Jeanne. Not only that, but some of us old guys, when we neglect shaving for a couple of days, could hit the sidewalk with palm outstretched. “Hey, man, spare a buck?” Note to myself: Hang onto those baggy black pants with the holes in the knees.)
It is impossible to imagine Goethe or Beethoven being good at billiards or golf. H.L. Mencken (Agreed. On the other hand, I can see Julius Caesar sticking it to his opponents on the back nine or Napoleon squinting his eyes, leaning over the green felt, and saying “Eight ball in the side pocket.”)
I used to be Snow White, but then I drifted. Mae West (Ah, Mae. You speak for most of humankind.)
I’m as pure as the driven slush. Tallulah Bankhead (Another snow joke? Well, it’s April, and just two days ago the sky was spitting snow.)
Having children is like having a bowling alley installed in your brain. Martin Mull (Anyone who has small children will determine this statement beyond debate. The rest of you need to move along. Nothing to see here.)
I have to think hard to name an interesting person who does not drink. Richard Burton, British actor (Donald Trump doesn’t drink, yet he seems to interest quite a few people these days.)
What an author likes to write most is his signature on the back of a check. Brendan Francis (Dear reader, let me suggest an experiment. I’ll volunteer as the subject, the lab rat, if you will. Mail me a check, and I will let you know if the hypothesis introduced by Mr. Francis is correct.)
I’m astounded by people who want to “know” the universe when it’s hard enough to find your way around Chinatown. Woody Allen (Agreed. On the other hand, we have GPS now, so maybe Chinatown is navigable.)
A penny saved is a Congressional oversight. (No comment needed).
He who laughs, lasts. Mary Pettibone Poole (Sometimes laughter is the only medicine we’ve got. And sometimes it’s exactly the medicine we need.)