Laughter Matters

This is a new column in the e-mag based upon my constant search for humour to include in my seminars. Those of you who have attended these events will know that I try to combine inspiration and education with humour in an attempt to inject some oxygen into overworked brains. Some of my jokes can be a challenge for the faint hearted but they are funny if you share my weird sense of humor. In each Nutrition Matters I will include my favourite for that month and this may involve rewriting of the joke and a little embellishment.

The first joke in this new “Laughing Matters” segment is a road story involving adventurous retirees. I hope you enjoy it.

Coldwater Washup

A pair of grey nomads set off to accomplish their lifetime dream of touring around Australia. There was some initial consternation regarding how they would handle the rough and ready lifestyle of the road, after years of borderline OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). Their perfectly ordered, super sanitary life was soon to be challenged.

Frugality was part of that lifestyle, so on the first night on the road they pulled the Winnebago into an unofficial campsite where several other fee dodging retirees were parked up for the night They rolled out the awning and set up the camp chairs and table and sat back with a glass of wine to enjoy the much awaited first night on the road, as the setting sun delivered a riot of colour to a neighboring stream.

Beside them camped an elderly gentleman but his campsite was not so well appointed. He sat on an esky beneath a blue plastic tarp attached to a rusty old van. An equally weatherbeaten old dog sat at his feet as he prepared his evening meal on a portable gas cooker. He sang as he cooked and the sunset was punctuated by the sweet tones of “Danny Boy”.

The new travellers clapped at the end of the song and within minutes a new friendship was born and there was an invitation extended to share his evening fry up while helping to drink the contents of the esky. The couple had not started to cook their meticulously planned first road meal so they threw caution to the wind and moved their chairs next door. Several beers later the chops, sausages and onions were ready and the feast was served up on battered enamel plates. Both the plates and the cutlery were covered in a slimy film and the host could not help but notice the look of distaste on the faces of his guests. He reassured them with an explanation that “this is life on the road and this is the best that cold water can do”. The beer helped overcome the revulsion and they enjoyed the meal.

Next morning the hospitality was further extended and they were invited next door for bacon and eggs to line their stomachs before hitting the highway. Again they grimaced at the state of the eating utensils and again received the comment that “this was the best that cold water could do”. They swapped glances with unspoken agreement that they should have remembered to bring a box of tissues to wipe of the slime before eating.

As they were heading back to the Winnebago the old dog barred their way with a threatening snarl. They looked over for guidelines from their host and he told them not to panic. “The old boys got a faltering memory, he takes a while to get to know you and he’s threatened by strangers. Just stand still for a moment and I’ll take care of it.” He then let out a deafening whistle and bellowed “sit down and behave yourself Coldwater!”

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