Stay active...and learn to tell a joke.
Here's the key to telling a great joke-the TIMING. Johnny Carson was really the master of that. He could read his audience, bring them along, let them hang there until the precixe minute, and then "ham!" punchline.
I have an over 90 year old neighbor who is a good shit. He has passion. If there is a controversial subject he has an opinion on it (and that is any subject you can come up with ) he won't hestiate to tell you. Once he gets you all wound up, he will leave you with a little joke and a laugh. And I mean leave you, he walks 2 miles on the road every morning like a religion.
Sometimes he repeats the joke he told you last time-but you still laugh because you just have to, because wth he is in his 90's go him!.
After so many months in isolation, it was actually refreshing to meet with two, new-to-me persons. Unfortuneately, one was from Maine DEP and the other from Maine DIFW, responding to my complaint of a fish kill, which is another story.
DIFW arrived first, a twenty something handome young man who I might call a hunk and my daughter might call a redneck.
We both stood twenty feet apart clutching our masks and subconsciously agreeing to comunicate in such a fshion, while wating for the arrival of DEP, which occurred in a few minutes (he had overshot it)
A silver haired gentleman got out of his truck en maske, apologizing by proclaiming that he was old, and MDIFW and I promtply secured on our masks and mutual conversation ensued with a 15 foot radius along the road.
Soon enough I "left them to it" and when they were done their investigation IFW called me and I dutifully trotted down my labeled ziploc bags of deceased bullhead cafish and invasive introduced bluegill to be returned to Pathology, since most of the ones in the stream were not-so-fresh as the ones I had in my fridge in their giant ziploc bags.
The collection the day before was another adventure, bushwhacking through waist-high marsh grass interspersed with poison ivy, stinging nettle in bloom; flushing a duck and another good sized brown bird whcih called all afternoon after I retreated,;clutching water bottle, ziploc bags, a two foot pair of tongs, while wearing sneakers no socks and jean shorts. The icing on the cake was trying to juggle the cell phone and having call backs from MDIFW repeatedly drop while I am gesturing at the heavens shouting, "can you hear me now?"
So, the fellas went upstream and downstream and I reatreated to the "lawn". At one point I heard "bullhead" which is apparently the officail MDIFW name for what local call "hornpout" and me southern girl calls "catfish".
Bullhead belly up comprised the majority of the fish kill, and MDIFW and I had shared comment about that- each having our own stories of how bullhead are very tenacious to living.
So, we are gathered afterwards on the road, en maske, and once again DIFW and I are discussing the quantity of bullhead. "Old man" from DEP interjects, "there weren't any bullhead, what are you talking about?"
MDIFW and I exchange completely shocked and puzzled looks over our face coverings. We are clearly wondering WTH is the matter with DEP guy?
At exactly the right moment he says, "all I saw were "hornpout"
MDIFW and I busted a gut. DEP was clearly on a roll.
He continued,
"You know, Fisheries has their own booklet for fish identification, but we are going to start another of our own...'
and rattles off a few native names for various species which continues to get laugh after laugh.
Then he says, " and then there is *in thick Maine dialect*...'the Brown Nosed trout."
Here's the key to telling a great joke-the TIMING. Johnny Carson was really the master of that. He could read his audience, bring them along, let them hang there until the precixe minute, and then "ham!" punchline.
I have an over 90 year old neighbor who is a good shit. He has passion. If there is a controversial subject he has an opinion on it (and that is any subject you can come up with ) he won't hestiate to tell you. Once he gets you all wound up, he will leave you with a little joke and a laugh. And I mean leave you, he walks 2 miles on the road every morning like a religion.
Sometimes he repeats the joke he told you last time-but you still laugh because you just have to, because wth he is in his 90's go him!.
After so many months in isolation, it was actually refreshing to meet with two, new-to-me persons. Unfortuneately, one was from Maine DEP and the other from Maine DIFW, responding to my complaint of a fish kill, which is another story.
DIFW arrived first, a twenty something handome young man who I might call a hunk and my daughter might call a redneck.
We both stood twenty feet apart clutching our masks and subconsciously agreeing to comunicate in such a fshion, while wating for the arrival of DEP, which occurred in a few minutes (he had overshot it)
A silver haired gentleman got out of his truck en maske, apologizing by proclaiming that he was old, and MDIFW and I promtply secured on our masks and mutual conversation ensued with a 15 foot radius along the road.
Soon enough I "left them to it" and when they were done their investigation IFW called me and I dutifully trotted down my labeled ziploc bags of deceased bullhead cafish and invasive introduced bluegill to be returned to Pathology, since most of the ones in the stream were not-so-fresh as the ones I had in my fridge in their giant ziploc bags.
The collection the day before was another adventure, bushwhacking through waist-high marsh grass interspersed with poison ivy, stinging nettle in bloom; flushing a duck and another good sized brown bird whcih called all afternoon after I retreated,;clutching water bottle, ziploc bags, a two foot pair of tongs, while wearing sneakers no socks and jean shorts. The icing on the cake was trying to juggle the cell phone and having call backs from MDIFW repeatedly drop while I am gesturing at the heavens shouting, "can you hear me now?"
So, the fellas went upstream and downstream and I reatreated to the "lawn". At one point I heard "bullhead" which is apparently the officail MDIFW name for what local call "hornpout" and me southern girl calls "catfish".
Bullhead belly up comprised the majority of the fish kill, and MDIFW and I had shared comment about that- each having our own stories of how bullhead are very tenacious to living.
So, we are gathered afterwards on the road, en maske, and once again DIFW and I are discussing the quantity of bullhead. "Old man" from DEP interjects, "there weren't any bullhead, what are you talking about?"
MDIFW and I exchange completely shocked and puzzled looks over our face coverings. We are clearly wondering WTH is the matter with DEP guy?
At exactly the right moment he says, "all I saw were "hornpout"
MDIFW and I busted a gut. DEP was clearly on a roll.
He continued,
"You know, Fisheries has their own booklet for fish identification, but we are going to start another of our own...'
and rattles off a few native names for various species which continues to get laugh after laugh.
Then he says, " and then there is *in thick Maine dialect*...'the Brown Nosed trout."
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