Category Archives: comedy

Something to Sing About

Call it irony if you like.  On my way to choir rehearsal tonight, I was listening to NPR when I heard this commentary on what we can learn from opera during the current economic bad times.   I laughed out loud as Marc Acito, a music commentator (and professional musician) talked about all the bad news presented in opera and how the protagonists just sing about their troubles.  Here’s a quote from the commentary that I could most relate to:

“Or, if you think you’re working too hard just to keep up, remember The Barber of Seville. When he sings “Figaro, Figaro…” it’s not because he likes the sound of his own voice. Well, actually, most baritones do sing because they like the sound of their own voice. But in this case, he’s actually complaining about how he has to be in so many places at once. “Figaro qua, Figaro la, Figaro qua, Figaro la, Figaro su, Figaro giu, Figaro su, Figaro giu.”

It’s no exaggeration to say Figaro’s overwork is what led to the French Revolution.”

If you take the time to follow the link, take the time to listen to the short audio file of the commentary.  It is much more entertaining spoken than written, plus you get to hear Mark Acito sing excerpts from the operas he describes.

The commentary on opera made me think of country music, too.  Think of all those “my wife left me, my car died, and even the dog has left” country music songs.   And, of course, there’s always “the blues” for crooning about bad times.

Hearing this piece reminded me that music is a great tool for dealing with stress.  It soothes the soul, even when it seems like nothing can help.  It also made me laugh, and we all know humor is a great balm for emotional and psychological ailments.

I didn’t say all my posts would be original

Our Senior Pastor posted a list of funny things kids said about marriage on his blog. Yeah, he’s got lots of great stuff about theology and wonderful pictures that he has taken with his fancy camera, but this was cute and typical internet fodder.

These two were my favorites:

You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids…
— Derrick, age 8

Both don’t want any more kids.
— Lori, age 8

The Joys of Children – Gold, Common Sense, and Fur

I read this in an e-newsletter from my husband’s extended family. It made me laugh, so even if it has been passed around through e-mail a lot, I am posting it here for anyone who would like to enjoy.

My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years but hadn’t been blessed with a baby.

I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that if he would give us a child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide.

God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son.

The next year God blessed us with another son.

The following year, He blessed us with yet another son.

The year after that we were blessed with a daughter.

My husband thought we’d been blessed right into poverty. We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old.

I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it. As a minister once told me, “If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella.”

I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs.

I was off to a good start. God had entrusted me with four children and I didn’t want to disappoint Him.

I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks.

I tried to be understanding… when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours to catch all twenty-three frogs.

When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess.

In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, still thank God daily for my children.

While I couldn’t keep my promise to be a perfect mother – I didn’t even come close… I did keep my promise to raise them in the Word of God.

I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to “wash up” Jesus, too.

Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his “last wife.”

My proudest moment came during the children’s Christmas pageant.

My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds, and my youngest son was a wise man. This was their moment to shine.

My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, “We found the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes.”

But he was nervous and said, “The baby was wrapped in wrinkled clothes.”

My four-year-old “Mary” said, “That’s not ‘wrinkled clothes,’ silly. That’s dirty, rotten clothes.”

A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was stopped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost her left wing.

I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced down the aisle crying, “Mama-mama.”

Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived.

My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger and announced, “We are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur.”

The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation.

“I’ve never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one,” laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes.

“For the rest of my life, I’ll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common sense, and fur.”

“My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing,” I said as I dug through my purse for an aspirin.