This line seemed sarcastic and funny and it nestled firmly into my undersized brain. I used it for the first time about 20 years ago during Pre-Cana preparations at our church.
We were conducting our presentation on Couples Communication in the school gym with eight of the 32 couples gathered around our table. They were leaning in intently when I dredged it up, trying to add humor to our presentation.
“Just remember fellas, first you marry them, then they turn on you.’’
Most couples laughed it off.
The person next to me, my spouse, delivered a firm yet subtle elbow to the ribs.
As we approach New Year’s Day and resolutions that might last as long as a cell phone battery, Mary suggested I retire that line.
“You know,’’ Mary said, “you’ve been saying that to every young couple we meet, people who are getting engaged, people getting married. It makes it seem like we don’t have a good marriage. It makes it sound like I turned on you, like you’re the victim.’’
She didn’t suggest that Year 41 was in jeopardy, but that I needed some new lines.
“Geez, why don’t you pretend you like me,’’ I countered.
She responded faster than an auto-reply: “That’s the next one that has to go.’’
This made me take an inventory of my favorite lines:
For unruly basketball spectators: “If I hear anything more, you’re done. It’s hard to watch from the parking lot.’’ Assessment: I just used that last Friday. Too valuable to jettison.
My favorite, pre-GPS Christmas joke: “How do you know that Joseph didn’t stop to ask for directions on the way to Bethlehem? Because Mary rode his ass the entire way.’’ Assessment: If you have to explain GPS, it’s too old.
RIP Chuck Woolery: To tease young men or women, I would announce that I was known as the local scout for Chuck Woolery, host of Love Connection who died in November. “Just call me. I can be your love broker.’’ Assessment: Few people under 40 remember that show. Time to bury it too. Or as I’m fond of saying, “Deep six that one.”
Open mouth, insert foot: When things don’t go my way, I announce “you’re killing me.’’ When I couldn’t test out of COVID before a recent funeral, I wrote a card to the widow. “Sorry I couldn’t attend the Mass, but I opted for the socially responsible decision and stayed home. It was killing me.’’ Mary intercepted it before I sealed the envelope. Phew! Assessment: Poor choice of words.
For surprising appearances at church: When my quick-witted friend Finucane, from County Kerry, attends Wednesday morning Mass, I go on offense with my Irish Catholic doubleheader.
From the pew behind him, I whisper: “John, you’re here and the statues haven’t walked out … yet.’’
From the front of the altar, before leading the opening hymn, I announce the name and page, adding: “John, God will be happy if you just hum along.’’ Assessment: Besides bordering on sacrilegious, the shelf life of those two has expired.
“The next one that’s got to go,’’ Mary interjected, “would be ‘I wrote a column about that.’ ”
Correct. I just did.
Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/
Holleran Gets It Write 