When I was about 5 years old, I used to tell a joke. It was the joke about the man who ran over himself. It went like this :
Me – “Did you hear about the man who ran over himself?”Hapless strager – “No, how did that happen.”
Me – “A man asked a little boy to run over to the cigar store across the street to buy him some cigars, but the little boy said ‘No’ so the man ran over himself!”
I thought at the time that it was uproariously funny and I’m sure I must have gotten a chuckle out of the hapless stranger, because I recall this as a pleasant experience. Now right away you can tell that this joke was from a by-gone era. No one would consider sending a little boy across a street today to buy cigars. Besides the obvious danger of sending a child into traffic, there would probably be some sort of legal repercussions for sending a child to buy cigars such as contributing to the delinquency or some abuse derivative. This joke is obviously outdated so I had to quit telling it a couple of months ago. But something happened this morning that made me think of it, or at least just how outdated it is. Since it is technology related, I am the first in my line to whom this has ever happened and perhaps it can be worked into a joke that my grandchildren and perhaps several more generations can tell before it becomes outdated also. Here are the details.
Today, I received a phone call on my home phone. When I picked up and checked the caller ID (I always screen for bill collectors) I was a little puzzled because the call was from me, from my cell phone number to be exact. Now I was really confused because I had just checked my cell phone and responded to a text message a few seconds earlier so I knew that it was secure in my pocket and no one else could be using it. My steel trap mind snapped shut on the obvious situation. Hackers, I thought. We are always hearing about hackers. Almost every night on the news a hacker has hacked something and stolen everyone’s personal information. Someone had hacked my cell account and redirected my connection to another cell phone and was now calling me probably for some kind of ransom to retrieve my identity. I reluctantly pressed the talk button and said hello. I had just poured a cup of coffee and moved across the kitchen to place it in the microwave while answering. It sounded like some pervert on the line, not talking but breathing or blowing heavily into the phone. Now I was getting angry. I yelled “Look you a**hole,” but I stopped short when I heard my own words coming from the direction of that part of my anatomy that I had just referenced. Now my mind was reeling. I had just finished some research concerning the Creation Story in Genesis so speaking things into being was fresh on my mind. I remembered how annoying it could be when in my childhood someone, perhaps an older sister, would repeat everything I said. How annoying would it be to have everything you say repeated by … well, I think you get the picture.
Suddenly it dawned on me to check the cell phone in my pocket and sure enough I found the perpetrator. Now the situation became clear but I still had to go over it in my head a couple of times to get myself to accept it. Not some pervert blowing into the mouthpiece to intimidate me, but the phone simply rubbing on the inside of my pocket as I walked. Not the words of my mouth repeated by another orifice but simply the speaker button clandestinely activated. But even with a clear understanding of what had happened, I still felt compelled to mumble a quick apology before I hung up but by this time I had taken the cell phone out if my pocket so the echoing of my words was not so disconcerting. I must have forgotten to lock the touch screen before I put the phone away after sending my message. My home phone number is on my speed dial list. It didn’t take long for my steel trap mind to spring around that. I’ll have to admit at first I was embarrassed. But the more I thought about it, the funnier it became. It could become a suitable replacement for the outdated man who ran over himself. Who won’t like the high tech man who called himself?
I can almost picture it now. My (as yet unborn) future grandson approaching a hapless stranger:
Little Andy – “Hey mister, did you hear about the man who called himself?”
Hapless Stranger – “No. What did he call himself?”
Little Andy – “Oh, I’m not allowed to say that word, mister.”
Hapless Stranger – “Ok, I’m looking for my lost puppy, why don’t you come help me?”
Little Andy – “I’m not allowed to go with strangers either.”
Hapless Stranger – “Well, just come sit in the car with me. I’ll give you this lollipop.”
Little Andy (running away) – “Mommmmm!”
On second thought, maybe we just need a new version of the man who ran over himself.
Little Andy - “Hey, mister, did you hear about the man who ran over himself?”
Hapless Stranger – “No, what happened?”
Little Andy - “He was trying to take the groceries out of his car but instead of opening the trunk he hit the self park button and ran over himself.”
Hapless Stranger – “That’s not funny.”
Little Andy - “Gramma thought so when the firemen were lifting the car off my grampa.”
While it is entirely possible that I will be, and could even be considered probable that I will be, I really do hope that I will not be the inspiration for that joke.
