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The comedian Bill Engvall has a quick wit and a smart mouth. I love him. He originated the “Here’s Your Sign” comedic come backs to the redundant, stupid or just plain funny. When I’ve watched his comedy routine “Here’s Your Sign”, I’ve always wish I had come up with that gold mine little phrase. I’ve thought similar stuff countless times, especially when it comes to comments about my MS or I am in the path of an idiot. And yes, sometimes that idiot is me. I try to tame my tongue, but my brain acts like a over-indulgent grandma and if I’m not really careful, my mouth will inevitably let the mental lava of smart remarks spew. Tired? Fatigued? The rumblings of my thoughts are measurable sarcastic.
A while back, I was tired. I had driven almost an hour to my neurologist’s office where I sat for another hour with an IV bag tethered to my arm. As much as I adore my nurses there (I really do), I was a slug that day and a bit frustrated with the fact I had to drive even further (across town, but still) to have an MRI. All routine stuff to me, but nonetheless fatigue evoking. They left the “line” part in my arm after my IV treatment so I would not have to be stuck again when the MRI technician had to pump a contrast solution into my vein half way through my MRI experience. I’m always grateful for nurses with forethought. I’m usually brain-dead.
I’m not a huge fan of MRIs, but I am used to them. I don’t get claustrophobic when I’m conveyor belted into the MRI tube. They swaddle me in a warm blanket, give me ear plugs, click a hockey mask thing across my face and I’m in and out within 45 minutes. After all, they are inspecting my MS brain for lesions (little lightning bugs which chew on my nerves). Either the lesions I already have are behaving, hungry again, or they’ve invited more ravenous little lesion friends to my brain buffet. I always hope mine are full, have had a good burp at my expense and are just lying around on a nerve couch napping.
On my way to have my MRI scan, I noticed a sign. Now, remember I’m already extraordinarily pooped. The sign read “WE BUY GOD”. Huh? I slowed down.. The sign was one of those “put your own letters up” kind of sign you see in front of fast food joints. It was pointing to a pawn shop. Yep. A pawn shop! You KNOW I not only slowed down, but swerved into the middle of the road, took out my cell phone and snapped a picture. Actually, I took 2 because I shake a bit when I hold stuff and I did not want a blurry picture. Thankfully, no cars were coming nor were behind me at that moment. The day before, was rainy and the wind was whipping like crazy. I figured an “L” from the sign had probably been blown off into the grass because the “D” was slightly crooked. I could not stop laughing. A pawn shop advertising they buy God was hilarious. Here goes my mind….”Wonder what He goes for?” “If I walked in and told them I had God for sale, what would they say?” “How much does He weigh?” “Is He in good condition?” “Is He stolen?” “Is He visible for inspection?” “If I grabbed a random dude off of the curb, could I pawn him as God?” (No one I know knows what he really looks like….) “If they bought some dude from me, I’d have the money to build the studio I want and gas money for life..”
I do realize some reading this will not find this funny. Trust me. I’ve already had comments when I showed the picture to people. “That was a missed opportunity to share your faith.” “People so desperate for God that they advertise to buy him and you don’t go in….” Ok. I get ya. But, you have to remember the first paragraph of this blog. I have a smart mouth and a volcanically sarcastic sense of humor. I honestly think, after feeling like lead had been poured into my body, tired beyond tired, God was telling me “Here’s Your Sign…To Laugh!” “Lighten up, kiddo, you’ll be home soon.” “Laughter is the best medicine.” “Hee haw while you’re in that torpedo tube of an MRI.” “You can laugh and have MS at the same time, Bonehead.”
Thanks, God. I needed that sign. And, I did laugh. A lot.
I didn’t need to make a deep issue out of it. I didn’t need to stop and point out to the pawn people their “L” was missing from GOLD but I could tell them about God. I think, that would have embarrassed them or highly ticked them off. They wouldn’t wanna hear some out-of-town do-gooder spew religion and correct their signage. Plus, they were probably bigger than I am and I know pawn shop owners have guns. I just needed to laugh and go on.
I am very easily tempted to whip out a “Bill Engvall”. With the stuff people do and say…trust me, Bill is on the tip of my tongue at any given moment. I wobbly knocked into a door the other day and here comes Bill…”Knock knock, who’s there? Here’s your sign.” When I hear the words “But you look so good”, Here comes Bill…”I didn’t know dog doo looked that appealing.” I can’t get the right words out sometimes, so I tell people I folded forks and cooked underwear, when I meant to say I folded clothes and under cooked something. Here’s my sign. I can laugh about it.
Let’s all lighten up and laugh together. Get a chuckle out of life. Enjoy yourself and slow down to notice the funny stuff. It is possible to do that in a kind way, by the way. Just be careful when you are tired if you are prone to channel Bill Engvall….