Gerald says that my brother and I have "verbal shorthand" and that half the time he doesn't know what we're saying. We are competitive about word play and one-upsmanship, with our stream-of-consciousness banter.
Yesterday, as my brother was helping bring in bags of groceries from the car, he was trying to carry everything in one trip. I said, "It's going to take more than one trip." My hands were full as were his. He was following behind me and he said, "Just push the door; it's ajar."
The following 10-minute dialogue ensued:
Over my shoulder, I asked, "When is a door not a door?"
He said, "Oh, no, I know that old riddle; it's when it's A JAR."
Continuing, into the house, I asked, "But when is a jar not a jar then?"
He asked, "When it's in a JAM?"
I said, "JAM--did you mean JAMB--was that unintended?"
He said, "OMG! I should have said JELLY; you're not going to stop now, are you?"
I told him, "That riddle about ajar came from a Fleer's Double Bubble gum wrapper from when I was probably in the fifth grade."
He answered, "I read once that--like you-- Milton Berle also remembered where he stole his jokes!"
I shrieked, "Milton Berle! You remember Milton Berle?" He answered, "Of course, Uncle Miltie." I said, "We didn't watch him; Mother didn't think he was funny." He replied, "No, she liked Sid Caesar."
I said, "And Imogene Coca; did you know that our hero Mel Brooks was a writer there?"
He answered, "Of course; and how about the movie My Favorite Year?" I said, "Mel said it was mostly fictional." He answered, "But it was good; Richard Benjamin directed it and Peter O'Toole was great playing that Errol Flynn-ish character." I asked, "Who played the Mel Brooks/Woody Allen-ish character?" He answered, "Wasn't it Mark-Linn Baker?" I responded, "Doncha just hate someone hyphenating his name?" "Oh, yeah, I do, Sue SHIRKEY-Raypole."
Touche!
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