A Joke Grenade is a type of joke wherein, after it is casually tossed out, it takes a few seconds before the audience discovers the humor of it and totally ‘gets it’. This is more of a Joke Bomb – with a rather long fuse.
Today is the 20th of March, in the Year of Our Lord, 2020. I chuckle as I write. Allow me to set the scene:
We are in the midst of the Coronavirus Pandemic (hysteria). My brother and I are in semi-isolation and semi-quarantine as a result. We are neither isolated nor quarantined by any logical stretch of either definition. The whole country is in a panic. We are urged by the government/media to huddle in place and restrict our social interactions.
My brother is 86 years of age and I’m 69. He’s been on supplimental oxygen for the past nine years. Folks are a bit in a quandary as to whether to visit or not visit. Home Health Care workers continue to come and go for my brother. Much of the national economy (businesses and most other social activities) are currently tanking and going into lockdown.
We just received Post Cards via snail mail (USPS) from our OTHER brother’s twins. It was their earnest intent to express their love and concern for our health and wellbeing and offer any assistance needed. Sweet; Very Sweet.
My brother (the one that I live with) is a notorious Country & Western fan and loves cowboy themed movies, books, paintings, décor and suchlike frontier and ranch hand motifs.
I cannot say who chose the Post Cards but, and even though I’m not in alignment with my brother’s personal tastes; both Post Cards have commonly recognized Western subjects.
Now, either the twins (whom I love dearly and am proud of for their life’s accomplishments) have absolutely no sense of the macabre what-so-ever or it is of a depth far beyond that of my own.
So; here we are, my brother and I, both suffering the ravages of old age; and huddled against the plague; and receiving Post Cards depicting (Custer’s) The Last Stand (for my brother) and (Wild Bill Hickok’s) Dead Man’s Hand for me.