going with the grain

Because I'm a big pain in the ass I like to go against the grain. I know no one gave me license to do so but I so much love doing so. I love to bust chops, and I'm wondering if that term is ever used anymore. (bust chops) That's probably more politically correct than being a ball buster. The whole vernacular has changed out there. That's good, but it makes me engage the think before you speak button a lot more. I remember when Joan Bozer joined our all male caucus from across the aisle about twenty years ago. She didn't change from Republican to Democrat but she was the most liberal minded republican I ever met. Goldwater today would probably be considered a liberal. Anyway after our caucus, Joan said that she had heard the word "fuck" today more than she heard it her whole entire life. And when she said that, I said to myself, I don't remember using that word at all this afternoon. The word fuck can still go against the grain even today. This all brings me to an old joke. People don't tell jokes any more. Our fast paced society likes only the punch lines. We seem to have lost time for the story. My brother Al and his pal Danny were horrible to be around. They came from another generation than me, so their stories lingered a long while before the punch line hit. And you see, I'm using their ploy right now. I haven't even begun to start the joke. It's not like I'm setting you up...it's more like I'm trying to remember the story and why I even think it's worthy of retelling. But what even would be cooler than me telling you, would you telling someone else...in your own version, and they would tell someone else and eventually someone else would tell you...and you upon hearing it would say...holy shit, this sounds vaguely familiar. A young couple and their seven year old son had relocated from a upstate New York city to a small town in Indiana. After they established themselves in a new church they thought it would be a nice gesture to invite their pastor to their home for an after Sunday service dinner. Through word of mouth they found out that the best ham you could get in their town was produced by the Damm Family Farm. It was known as the Damm Ham. So when the day came and the pastor was at the home of the his new parishioners, the man of the family said to his wife...honey could you please pass the Damm ham.. and.their young son sitting at the table with them exclaimed...geez dad, I didn't know you were so cool, could you please pass the fucking potatoes. If you laughed shame on you. If you didn't shame on me.