Twenty or so years ago, I laughed my way down the Natchez Trace, beginning just north of Tupelo and ending somewhere north of Jackson. During that leg of my solo 1,000-mile drive from Grosse Pointe, Michigan, to the Gulf Coast, I laughed for one solid hour. Out loud. Which is the best way to laugh. This festival of fun took place on a sunny Sunday afternoon in springtime; a now-discontinued radio program, Garrison Keillor’s “A Prairie Home Companion,” provided the industrial strength laughs.
A guest on the Keillor show, after the briefest of introductions, fired off a non-stop, hour-long barrage of “man-walks-into-a-bar” jokes. You know the ones: An eggplant walks into a bar and orders a Bud Light; the bartender says, “I’m sorry, we don’t serve food here.” My favorite sends a penguin into a police station. The penguin says, “My brother is missing; can you help?” The desk sergeant asks, “What does he look like?” This next one’s for writers: A priest, a preacher, and a rabbit walk into a bar. The rabbit says, “Nothing for me, I’m just a typo.”
When the show wrapped, I soon found myself thinking back over a lifetime of jokes. The first joke I can remember was a rib-tickler from my granddad: A woman faints on the State Fair midway. Bystanders are suggesting remedies when a strolling toy vendor walks by shouting, “Rubber balls!” Despite its anatomical confusion, this sorry excuse for a joke convulsed my granddad’s pals. I was five and didn’t get it.
The first jokes I grasped were “knock-knock jokes.” You know how these work. Ed: Knock, knock. Al: Who’s there? Ed: Spell. Al: Spell who? Ed: W-H-O. That one I understood. There are hundreds of knock-knocks, ranging from corny to unendurable. Enjoy a few more, shortened by starting them at the “[Name] who?” point.
Al: Candice who? Al: Candice joke get any worse? Al: Dewey who? Ed: Dewey need laugh insurance? There’s even a singing knock-knock. Al: Sam and Janet who? Ed: (singing) Sam and Janet Evening. We’ll knock off with a nod to seniors. Al: A little old lady who? Ed: I didn’t know you could yodel. Ouch.
Of the many joke categories, my favorites are elephant jokes and Tom Swifties, both popular in the 1950s and 1960s. Elephant jokes are mindless fun; Swifties involve adverbs and a modicum of intelligence. They trace to a boy’s book series from the 1900s, e.g., Tom Swift and His Amazing Autogiro, so we’ll start with the Swifties.
“It’s long past sunset,” said Tom darkly. “I don’t like boxer shorts,” said Tom briefly. “I’m replacing my kitchen knives,” said Tom sharply. “If you want me, I shall be in the attic,” said Tom loftily. We end with: “I’m dying,” Tom croaked. And on to the elephants.
What did Tarzan say when he saw the elephants coming? “Here come the elephants!” How do you know there’s an elephant in your bed? There’s an embroidered “E” on its pajamas.
Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? Because they’re good at it. Why don’t elephants ride tricycles? They don’t have thumbs to ring the little bell with. Enjoy those? I’ve got a trunkful.
Enough of questions; here’s a narrative elephant joke: Mrs. Wiggs calls the police to report a strange beast in her cabbage patch. The dispatcher asks, “What does it look like?” Breathlessly, Mrs. Wiggs says, “It’s a great big gray thing with huge ears, and it’s pulling up my cabbages with this enormous tail.” The dispatcher says, “Pulling up your cabbages?” Mrs. Wiggs snaps, “Yes, and you won’t believe what the thing is doing with them!”
Reasonably clean jokes are rare, but here’s another: A woman’s house catches fire and she calls the fire department. “How do we get there?” says the dispatcher. The lady replies, “Don’t y’all still have that big yellow truck?”
During the first half of the 20th Century, high school and college yearbooks often printed vaudeville-level jokes as filler in unsold advertising spaces. Jackson was no exception. From Central High School’s 1929 Cotton Bowl, here’s a typical thigh-slapper: Miss Fletcher: “What is limburger cheese composed of?” Student: “It’s not composed; it’s decomposed.”
Returning to funny jokes, here’s a landmark rube joke: Tourist: “Have you lived in the Ozarks all your life?” Rube: “Not yet.”
And, finally, my favorite Christmas one-liner, with thanks to the late Don Imus: A dairy farm in Israel has something new for the holidays—a festive gift assortment called Cheeses of Nazareth.
William Jeanes is a former Northsider once charged by an elephant.
