Philosophy
My Fellow Comedists,
This weekend let's share stories of bad advice. People mean well, think they are helping, but good intentions do not always translate into effective results.
There was the time in college I took my grandfather's suggestion on a barber. My grandfather was bald. But he swore by Tony the barber, so I went. I walked in and the place was empty. This should have been my first clue. Only Tony and Gino. Gino didn't cut hair, his job was to sit in an empty chair and swear at the pictures in Life magazine in Italian. I tell Tony I want it long, take off my glasses, and he starts cutting. A couple minutes in, he says to Gino, "You know who had curly hair like this, remember that guy Joe who would come in years ago?" Great, Tony hasn't seen curly hair in years. Just get me out of here. So, he cuts and cuts and finally says, "What do you think?" I hate getting my hair cut and am virtually blind without my glasses, glasses that have to be removed before I haircut. Assuming he is a professional, I'm sure the job is fine and get out of the chair, put my glasses back on, pay, and leave. I drive back home and my mom looks at me, her eyes get wide and she starts to laugh. Not a little chuckle, but a full out can't control it, belly laugh. Baffled I run to the bathroom mirror and look. I told Tony to leave it long, something he apparently only remembered after cutting the top and back of my hair which were short. The sides, however,... when you have very tight curls, length turns into volume meaning that Tony sent me out of his barbershop with what looked like a pair of kaiser rolls over my ears. It has become known in family lore as the "Princess Lea" haircut. I went back to campus and it took my girlfriend the better part of an hour to fix it. And from then on I never took advice on finding a barber from a bald man.
Worst advice you ever got?
Live, love, and laugh,
Irreverend Steve
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Philosophy
Bad Advice
My Fellow Comedists,
This weekend let's share stories of bad advice. People mean well, think they are helping, but good intentions do not always translate into effective results.
There was the time in college I took my grandfather's suggestion on a barber. My grandfather was bald. But he swore by Tony the barber, so I went. I walked in and the place was empty. This should have been my first clue. Only Tony and Gino. Gino didn't cut hair, his job was to sit in an empty chair and swear at the pictures in Life magazine in Italian. I tell Tony I want it long, take off my glasses, and he starts cutting. A couple minutes in, he says to Gino, "You know who had curly hair like this, remember that guy Joe who would come in years ago?" Great, Tony hasn't seen curly hair in years. Just get me out of here. So, he cuts and cuts and finally says, "What do you think?" I hate getting my hair cut and am virtually blind without my glasses, glasses that have to be removed before I haircut. Assuming he is a professional, I'm sure the job is fine and get out of the chair, put my glasses back on, pay, and leave. I drive back home and my mom looks at me, her eyes get wide and she starts to laugh. Not a little chuckle, but a full out can't control it, belly laugh. Baffled I run to the bathroom mirror and look. I told Tony to leave it long, something he apparently only remembered after cutting the top and back of my hair which were short. The sides, however,... when you have very tight curls, length turns into volume meaning that Tony sent me out of his barbershop with what looked like a pair of kaiser rolls over my ears. It has become known in family lore as the "Princess Lea" haircut. I went back to campus and it took my girlfriend the better part of an hour to fix it. And from then on I never took advice on finding a barber from a bald man.
Worst advice you ever got?
Live, love, and laugh,
Irreverend Steve
- What Is Love?
To recognize its 50th anniversary last week and Valentine's Day today, at noon by the mayor's proclamation, everyone in San Francisco will sing along with Tony Bennett's "I Left My Heart in San Francisco." A fitting tribute from the city that...
- Funniest Play
My Fellow Comedists, We took the short people to Williamsburg for a couple days and while there saw a production of a 17th century farce, Polly Honeycombe. They rolled. I mean full out belly-laughs. So, this weekend, let's ask, what is the funniest...
- Happy Halloween
My Fellow Comedists, In our efforts to be environmentally friendly, it's probably worth recycling this one: I love Halloween because I love clever costumes. My best was in college. My girlfriend wore a blue dress with a ribbon in her straight blond...
- That Joke Is So Old...how Old Is It?
Brothers, Sisters, and Transgendered Comedists Everywhere, This week good brother Helmut and good brother 71 alerted me to this story. The world's oldest recorded joke has been traced back to 1900 BC and suggests that toilet humor was as popular with...
- Passing The Plate: Mothers' Day Edition
Brothers, Sisters, and Transgendered Comedists Everywhere, It is that time again. Time to ask for donations and pass the donation plate. While most congregation ask for money, Comedists ask for something much more precious -- jokes. Lest you are worried...