It's a Blessing; It's a Curse

Back in 1973 all of us Governor's Youth Interns got some trophy that commemorated the special quality we brought to the program. Oh wait, did I ever tell you that I was a Governor's Youth Intern? This was when it still seemed I might have a future, although it might be telling that all the little interns that went on to important careers got trophies for their genius qualities and I got "Most Humorous".
Now, I'm a bitter curmudgeon that likes nothing more than to be left alone with a good book. It's a sad confession that it's usually not the Good Book either. But that whole "Oh, he's so funny" thing continues to haunt me. Our church is having small groups discussing The God Questions. The leader is going to be out of town and his wife asked me to help her lead the discussion. "Why?", I said, "You know I'm not really any good at that sort of thing." "I just like your sense humor," she said. Another fine mess it's gotten me into.

Last night, emboldened by fixing that squeal on my road bike, I switched my mountain bike tires over to studs. Although it appears that I switched the tires successfully, it's ironic that I got the confidence to do it because I fixed a squeal that I now realize I caused by overinflating the road bike's tires like Donald Duck did to that car in Kids is Kids.