Coot

Coot: (n) a foolish or crotchety person, especially one who is old

I have officially become old enough to become a coot. I’m not sure what age qualifies you, but age is certainly a factor.

There are other considerations:

Coots always talk about “how good things used to be.”

Coots tend to refer to society as using a “handbasket on their way to hell.”

Coots pine for a time when they were younger and full of energy.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I honestly don’t feel any of that whatsoever.

Many of my growing-up years were filled with ignorance, prejudice, anger, self-righteousness and bloodshed in an unrighteous war. So I don’t yearn to go back—I just insist that there are two things the human race can’t live without, and we should cease deleting them from our browser.

Human beings must have empathy and self-deprecation. If you don’t like the idea of self-deprecation, then insert humility.

When we stop feeling empathy for the man or woman next to us, we become enemies to our own species, similar to a bee who plots with the flies to steal the honey.

And when we don’t produce adequate humility, the obnoxious odor that comes off our being chases people from the room.

I’m not an old coot.  I don’t care who you sleep with. I don’t care what your political party is. I don’t care what your faith or lack of faith might be.

But when you mess with empathy and humility, I will dig my heels in, because then you’re plotting the destruction of the human race—of which I am proudly a member.


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Comedy

Comedy: (n) entertainment intended to make an audience laugh

The least humorous thing that can be done is to have a discussion about comedy.

So since I find myself writing an essay on the subject, you can count on two things: it will be brief, and as non-discussive as possible.

Comedy is what sane people do to try to change things they know will probably not transform, but still need to be addressed. In that way, it can sometimes be
heavy-handed. (How appropriate to refer to it as a Comedy Club.)

To me, comedy that benefits the human soul, like a medicine for our emotions, always has three ingredients:

  1. Self-deprecation. (You have to make fun of yourself.)
  2. Commonality. (It is all part of what the tribe does.)
  3. Some hope (leaving the hearer aware of the difficulty, but ready to approach the situation.)

When comedy provides these three angels to our journey, it may be the closest thing to defining God.

 

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Bode

Bode: (v) to be an omen of a particular outcome.

Dictionary B

If you talk long enough about farts, you’ll actually start smelling them.

Pardon my crude observation. I wanted to get your attention.

After all, in the United States, it is the way we get people’s heads to turn in our direction.

We shock, alarm, prophesy doom, threaten, warn and curse.

For after all, it is difficult to gather an audience around the idea of happiness. Matter of fact, sometimes I think we despise joy because it does not afford us enough opportunity to complain.

In this political season of furor, it seems that the only way to gain a second look is to express how things do not bode well.

I often wonder why–since our country is so screwed up, so perverted, so destitute and so absolutely bedraggled–individuals would want to become its presiding officer.

Could it be they are lying?

Is there the possibility of exaggeration?

Maybe we’re just geared toward a desire to see the world destroyed so we don’t have to deal with it anymore.

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Bod

Bod: (n) a body or physique.

Dictionary BMethinks I protest too little.

Yes, all my life I have joked about my appearance to the amusement of audiences, never really feeling diminished by being unable to be part of the chosen few who are considered to have “a good bod.”

Alphabetically, the front my body resembles the letter O, and sideways, a B. (That in itself, you see, is a bit of comedy at my own expense.)

I’ve been told by those who consider themselves to be psychologically astute, that such self deprecation can be harmful and disguises a hidden pain.

But … not really.

If there were no mirrors in the world and I was speculating on my appearance, then perhaps a case could be made that I needed to have greater generosity of spirit toward my own visage. But since I know what I look like and I realize that it falls outside the parameters listed for “leading man” or “stud,” there seems to be a healthy need to be realistic and use what I have to the best of my ability, without feeling that I need to place it in a better frame.

Yes, my picture is somewhat frameless.

But considering that, I’ve been blessed by quite a few women, who decided to look beyond my faults and see my need. Or my benefit.

So methinks I protest just enough.

And to these ladies aforementioned, I am most grateful that they helped me discover all the pleasures and joys on the romantic menu.

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Amour

dictionary with letter A

Amour: (n) a secret or illicit love affair or lover.

I think it’s absolutely terrific that there is a dignified word and pleasant expression for a romantic encounter other than referring to it as a fling, adultery or fornication.

Even though I understand the importance of moral purity and the value of keeping oneself sexually focused, I will tell you this–we are human beings and:

  • We like to make out.
  • We like to feel that we’re wanted.
  • We certainly yearn to be desirable.

And the notion that in a moment of weakness we will not give in to our sensibility to be appreciated, and even lusted after, may not only be optimistic, but against all that makes us interesting.

Even though I have to be honest and say that sexual promiscuity comes with its own stinging barbs of retribution, I have equally found that sexual repression is also a destroyer of human beings.

So what is the right amount of sexuality in our lives to keep us balanced, involved and moving forward instead of dragging our butts on the ground in depression or feeling cheap and sleazy?

I’m happy to tell you … I don’t know.

I will say this: if I removed one ounce of amour from my life, I would be a worse jerk than I presently am, and certainly riddled with self-pity instead of purposefully using, of my own accord, self-deprecation.

I like the idea of somebody wanting me–I will not lie. Yet I have resisted the temptation to turn that into a torrid affair. But I am grateful for every human being who considered me viable enough as a potential lover to invite the possibility.,

I am not so religious that I believe that God is cranky about our glandular inclinations. And I am not so enamored by “free love” to contend that such encounters are without recompense.

Amour is necessary to us or we soon cannot fathom why love exists in the first place.

 

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