-Some Stress-Relief Humour
Just the light–heartedness, the levity amongst a group of us this past Monday night quickly decided for me that I must abandon the more “serious issues” today.
We were at the Carifesta oasis, cautiously enjoying the beverages and the fried fish with the “boil-and-fry” and such like. In fact, most of us were broke – or getting there. How welcome, therefore, was the banter, along with the therapy of the North-East Trades. (Even the mosquitoes seem to love that wholesome environment.)
Living in this challenged and depressed economy of ours leads many to do illegal and immoral things to survive. I like to believe, however, that most of us still enjoy the dignity of honest, lawful pursuits to exist, setting the better examples to our Guyanese youth.
So today, I’ll depart from the usual issues – crime, disease, political wrangling, corruption, fires, traffic fatalities, education blues, unemployment, historical “analyses”, you know, etcetera. I’m going to recount some types of humour I’ve come across over the years. Including that which the “internet young ladies” in Monday night’s crew shared.
You see, when life’s daily challenges and blues tend to overwhelm, to really stress one out and threaten dire responses, humour helps. Some do turn to cigarettes, alcohol, narcotics, the hinterland – or, alas, suicide. Some just “break down”. Others, of course, seek religion – Faith in some God. But always, there is amongst all the above, humour – jokes, wise-cracks, pranks, “tantalize”, riddles, trick-questions, even “professional” comedy. Funny, but do you know that to really enjoy some types of sweet subtle humour, you have to have a well-rounded, fertile intelligence of wide-ranging subject matters? To appreciate some snappy, sophisticated “jokes”, you do have to have a developed sense of the comic, a real “sense” of humour. And remember the Reader’s Digest reminds us that “laughter is the best medicine”.
So relax and read on, as I share some different types of jokes and humorous situations with you.
From the news – and Joyce
Imagine the dilemma of the donkey or the horse, when its owner steals and gets caught. Earlier this week a horse-cart man was arrested for stealing building materials from an East Bank Demerara location. He was caught and detained, at the station of course. But so was the poor horse!
Now what was the horse to do!? He was no accomplice. He was carrying out orders. What was he – the horse – supposed to tell the police? The magistrate? (The more I see of mankind, the more I love my dog – or horse.). Check the goings-on in our courts and you will unearth loads of humour. Unfortunately.
Our more matured, harassed housewives probably have little time for humour, international developments. Or Sport. Take my friend’s wife Joyce. When he tried to discuss 20/20 cricket with her, she seriously, asked him if her favourite West Indian still plays – Sir Frank Worrell!
Many jokes were spawned in the late 1970’s to eighties in the tedious, stressful Guylines as hapless Guyanese waited in those queues for consumer items – all day and night. Remember how the Economic Recovery Programme – the ERP – became Every Rotten Post or Empty Rice Pot (ERP)? There are, in Guyana, Backdam/ Porkknocker jokes and tales; there are Sensible/Stupidy Bill, Anancy and Balgobin jokes and stories. Both humour and wisdom are inherent in them.
Balgobin was a mischievous but witty little fellow in class. The ever-trying female teacher demonstrated for the Inspector’s benefit, how water benefits the earthworm, but how the same worm perishes in a glass of alcohol. The lesson was profound, effective for the Inspector: Alcohol is bad for you – and worms. Balgobin soon put that to rest. His conclusion? “Inspecta, if me start drink alcohol, me would nevva get worms!”
There are also our Political jokes. A little Afro-Guyanese fellow, nine or ten years, grew up in a vigorous, completely loyal PNC house. All he knows was Forbes Burnham. The name Jagan was taboo except in dentistry, as his grandfather and mother still regarded Cheddi Jagan highly – as a dentist. When it was time for the little fellow to need a good dentist, the family reluctantly opted for Cheddi. Never, said the little brain-washed boy. “No, No Mammy! Don’t tek me to Jagan. Tek me to Burnham!”
“Sexual” jokes abound. But I can’t reproduce the risqué, sweet ones herein for obvious reasons. So just two summarized ones: Ivor cuffed Vic in his mouth – thereby interfering with Vic’s sex life. And did you hear what happened to the Australian Homosexual? They couldn’t get him out of Sydney! And the Internet girls offered this now popular one: The elephant asked the camel, “Hey how come you have two boobs on your back?” The offended camel shot back:” Not a bad question from you who have a penis attached to your mouth”.
Guyanese, Regional, International…
Food shortages, fuel crises. The world’s poor and hungry cannot afford too many allergies – that condition Guyanese call “kina”.
A Trinidadian Baby Killer Shark was accompanying his killer shark Trinidadian Father into Guyana waters somewhere off the Georgetown Atlantic shore. The Baby Killer Shark spotted two emaciated, starving Guyanese fishermen languishing in their broken fishing boat. The Baby Shark was jubilant. “Look dad, two wounded Guyanese fisherman! What a meal! “Baby Shark’s father from Trinidad then panicked. “Guyanese! Guyanese!? Boy retreat, turn back! Dem Guyanese would kill us boy! Dem Guyanese does eat fry shark with pepper-sauce every nite!!”
Internationally, airline travelers would be good-naturedly upset at having to take off their shoes at airport security check-points. (That started when that half-Jamaican would-be shoe-bomber attempted to get onboard with his shoe– bomb device.) It really is exasperating to unlace; even taking off slight see-through sandals all the time.
So the Customs/Airline security demanded that the rugged, singing Afro-America “homey” take off his shoes for the usual scanning. “Hell No! No way my man. I’m not parting with these shoes!” “Those are the rules Sir, you absolutely have to take them off, or you’ll not Board!” Lissen here my man Security, I’m a hard-working home-boy from the hood, trying jus to go on holiday. These new type Timbaland cost me $399.00. Aint no way I’m going to blow them up!!”
Hope a little bit of your stress has gone. Friday next we’ll probably return to politics, crime and the EPA.
’Til next week!
