I never (or seldom) blog about something I received by email.  The exception being: 1) It’s interesting, and 2) I haven’t seen it before.  Thanks to my daughter Linda for this one.  The author of this collection may be Jon Hammond – his name appeared at the bottom of the message.  I have edited his list of 29 paraprosdokians to 10.

“I had to look up ‘paraprodokian’. Here is the definition: ‘Figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected; frequently used in a humorous situation.’   ‘Where there’s a will, I want to be in it,’ is a type of paraprodokian.

1. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it’s still on my list.

2. We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.

3. Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

4.  You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.

5. There’s a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can’t get away.

6. I used to be indecisive. Now I’m not sure.

7.  Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.

8.  Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.

9.  Hospitality is making your guests feel at home even when you wish they were.

10. When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

Listed on a breakfast menu in Cordoba, Spain: embezzled egg

Sign in a restaurant in Cebu, Phillipines: We Han Sop-Drink in Can and in Batol

Often, in moving from one language to another, something is lost in the translation. Other times, even though we’re all speaking English, there is still a breakdown in communications.

A few years ago, when winter snows came upon us rather quickly and unexpectedly, a friend’s daughter called to let her mom know she was going to begin her trek home from the city. She asked if she should stop at the store on her way – was there anything her family needed? My friend told her to please pick up a 10 pound bag of cat litter. When the daughter arrived home several hours later, the mom assumed the bad wheather must have made it a harrowing trip. Seeking to be sympathetic, she said, “Oh, I was worried about you, it took so long for you to get home.” The daughter replied, “Well, I had to go to several stores to find 10 pounds of calves liver!”

Christmas Eve communion has been a part of my holiday observance for most of my life. Memories rush in: 1970 – my young son, so proud in the little white surplice, his first time to be an acolyte; 1980 – kneeling in the small country church, the pageant ended, the children still dressed as angels and shepherds; 1990 – the come-and-go service in the big city church, communion and a quick prayer while my husband holds the baby, then we trade places; 2000 – in our new church home, the members of the congregation carrying candles, spreading through the dark sanctuary, making a big circle of light.

Our holiday schedule changes over the years as family members are added and others are called home. But however many or few of us there are, at whatever point in the hustle and bustle we find ourselves, on December 24 we stop, make our way to church and kneel with our brothers and sisters in Christ to remember and give thanks for the gift of the Christ Child.

A wonderful, blessed Christmas to you all.

I’ve been around for a while and I’ve decided that what the world needs now is for folks to be more like Troy Donahue.

Troy was in the movies in the 50s and 60s and he always played a young man who suffered when society or circumstances forced him to make wrong choices.

But the good thing about Troy Donahue was that he always told us how he felt. “I am very angry.” “I am so sad.” “Gee, this makes me happy.” Telling us his feelings was a good thing, because otherwise, given Troy’s acting ability, it would have been difficult to know.

So I’m thinking, life would be much simpler if people would just tell me how they feel. It would relieve me of the responsibility of trying to figure it out. I wouldn’t have to work so hard to be sensitive. How helpful if folks said: “I’m uncomfortable.” “I feel threatened.” “I love you.”  Maybe then I wouldn’t do or say the wrong thing.  Push when I should hold off. Leave when I really should stay.

How different things could have been if he were a little more like Troy Donahue.

(One-minute monologue –  Center on the Square audition)

When a person dies, be it celebrity or rank unknown, there’s always someone ready to pronounce, “This is what she/he would have wanted.” And they say this with great authority while most of us left behind haven’t a clue.

Since Michael Jackson’s death, family and hangers-on have gathered and “best friends” have surfaced to take part in the creepy activities. Surely some one (or more) claim to have the word on “what Michael would have wanted.” But, sadly, those in charge have missed the boat.

In life, Michael Jackson was adamant about protecting his children from the media. With the exception of the balcony scene, we have not had a look at Paris, Prince Michael or Blanket. There is no way MJ would have wanted them to be paraded out after his death. Surely if there is one who truly cared about Michael Jackson or his children, that person would speak against this exploitation.

Now, after it’s been shown a thousand times, the video of a grieving little girl will be filed away with the pictures of John Kennedy, Jr. saluting his daddy’s casket and Prince Harry’s note to “Mummy” bouncing through the streets of London leading Diana’s funeral procession. We will see the scene again and again any time there is the slightest excuse. And Paris will see it again and again for the rest of her life.

Is this what her protective father would have wanted? I think not.

I watched the Tony Awards last weekend from the ten minute (!) opening to the closing number by host Neil Patrick Harris. (These can be seen on YouTube) There were a few technical difficulties but, hey. My first TV set showed nothing but live broadcasts.  We learned to overlook the occasional shadow of a boom mic on a leading lady’s face or the now-you-see-him-now-you-don’t stagehand retreating from the set as the camera panned.  But I digress.

For me, the highlight of the show was Angela Lansbury’s win for Blithe Spirit. This great actress has been on stage, big screen and small screen for seven decades accumulating an impressive body of work.  Watch her on Murder She Wrote,  on Hallmark Channel, or check out Netflix for more than 60 titles.

After journaling for most of my life, I find that it is now passe. To move into the 21st Century, I must learn to blog. I just bought a book WordPress for Dummies.