Idiot Drivers #AtoZ

You've seen the usuals--Miss Mascara-Lady brushing her lashes at the green light or Mr. Beer Guzzler weaving in and out of his lane. But one of the worst drivers I ever met was Mr. I'm-Not-Going-to-Drive-Fast-But-You-Can't-Pass-Me-Either. Have you met him? He was eighty years old and wanted to make sure I drove at a safe speed. Flying down the highway's passing lane at a whopping 40 mph, he made his Chevy rattle. As soon as an opportunity opened to pass on the right, Mr. Annoying floored it. I mean this dude drove a number that matched his age, and there was no passing him. Then, as soon as traffic clogged the right, he slowed back to forty. Was this guy for real? Lucky for him, I'm not a lulu with a gun because a Road Rager would have blasted his little gray head.


Unfortunately, he's not the only idiot driver on the road. After circling a parking lot twice, I finally found a person ready to leave. So I put my blinker on and waited a good distance back to allow the driver room to back up. Miss Rude Idiot had already driven way past this spot and missed it. Tough luck; get over it! But nooo. After seeing my signal, she put her car in reverse and blocked the person trying to back out of MY spot. Oh yes she did. And she was determined not to move until I backed up and gave her MY spot. If it weren't for the person being held captive in the lot, I would have stayed all night, but I couldn't do that to him. I'm sure she caused road rage and got hers eventually.

Years ago, I decided to do my best to control my blood pressure when idiot drivers are near. Okay, not totally. I still get frustrated when I can't turn right on red . . . not because of a sign, but due to the idiot driver who's blocking my lane. But when push comes to shove, pun intended, will this person's actions matter tomorrow? Should I really allow them that much control over my emotions? Of course not! I should just throw a rock at their car and drive off. --Just kidding.

Historical Humor #AtoZ

It's a rare clip that is so funny that no matter how many times I watch it, I still laugh. I'm talking about Abbott and Costello's famous skit, "Who's on First?" This hilarious duo worked radio, television, and film for ten years starting in 1942. Since then, many other comedians have graced the stages but so many of them depend on raw, dirty humor to get a laugh. Not these two. They didn't need to spew the F word in every other line to be funny. Check this out:

Another funny man from the past was Buster Keaton who made his start in 1899 at age three. He was born into a Vaudeville family and performed a comedy skit with his parents. The stone faced youth would anger his dad who grabbed a hook on his back and threw him across the stage. This violent act led to accusations of child abuse, but Buster, who Harry Houdini nick-named after a fall down a flight of stairs at age eighteen months, insisted he was fine. In fact, Buster Keaton became a pro at physical humor. Watch this:

Finally, my blog wouldn't be complete without honoring at least one funny gal from history. Lucille Ball was great and could be a post all by herself, but I'd like to honor the late, great Gilda Radner. I especially loved her skits as Roseanna Roseanna Dana on Saturday Night Live. Unfortunately I couldn't find my favorite, The U.S. Wants to Make Puerto Rico a Steak," but here's one that I'm sure you'll enjoy.

So is it cheating for a humor blogger to give you a laugh from the great ones? Nah! We learn from the best. See you Monday, which will be brought to you by the letter I.

Games #AtoZ

I don't like games. Sure, deal me in after shuffling the cards or let me bankrupt you with hotel traps in Monopoly, these are not the games I'm referring too. I'm talking about those sickly, conniving tricks we humans play with each other for fun or personal gain. I like Billy Bob but instead of telling him, I'm going to flirt with Hugo and make him jealous. These are the games I despise.

Having never been a game player, I became victim to some of the worst mind muses during my young dating life--all without my knowledge. So Senior year of college when that Freshman boyfriend wanted to see if he could rekindle the old flame, I was ready with the coaching of a dear friend. 

When the ex called, my friend interrupted my conversation and said, "Tell him you got to go." I gave Barry an odd look, but he insisted, "You have to go." So I abruptly ended the conversation and felt the pull from the other end of the phone telling me that he still wanted to talk.

Next, Barry prepped me for the date. When we'd get to the restaurant, I was to tell my date that I'd promised to drive my roommate to Walgreens at three. I hadn't promised anything, but my friend told me that if I wanted this guy, I had to give him the idea that he's not the most important thing in my life. It sounded cheap, felt wrong, and when it came down to it, I decided this wasn't me and I wasn't playing the game. Although I chose not to drop my break away excuse, I knew exactly what was going on when he told me, "My old roommate is coming to the apartment to help me move at three." I also realized at that point, that this was not the guy for me. Being sure not to mess up his plans, I scooted out by three, even though my date insisted I didn't have to go. It wasn't a game. I really didn't want to be around someone who didn't treat me like I was important.

Now as a humor blogger, my post would not be complete without the comical end of game playing, so here goes more game stories that happened during those fun college years.

A friend of mine and I decided we weren't going to play the sly check out the new date routine by hiding behind the pole and taking casual glances. We played openly and honestly. Dressed in a trench coat, hat, and sunglasses, we carried our notepad and pen down to the lobby for pickup. We asked the poor victim to turn around while telling him the absolute truth. "I want to check out your butt before I'll let you date my friend." Next, we'd ask him multiple questions about what his intentions were with our friends. No lies or deceptions here!

Nor did I go along with the nasty boys of Zeta Beta Tau during their Little Sister Initiation. Lined up in front of the entire fraternity, they gave each girl a banana with whipped cream on top and asked us to show them what we'd do with it. I promptly chomped down on the piece of fruit and tore the top off. I don't like games.

Please tune in tomorrow when letter H will take us on a fun look at Historical Humor.