Garrison Keillor Stand Up Jokes
They say such nice things about people at their funerals that it makes me sad to realize that I'm going to miss mine by just a few days.
Going to church no more makes you a Christian than standing in a garage makes you a car.
Intelligence is like four-wheel drive. It only allows you to get stuck in more remote places.
People will miss that it once meant something to be Southern or Midwestern. It doesn't mean much now, except for the climate. The question, “Where are you from?” doesn't lead to anything odd or interesting. They live somewhere near a Gap store, and what else do you need to know?
That's the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.
God writes a lot of comedy... the trouble is, he's stuck with so many bad actors who don't know how to play funny.
Jokes are good for your health, they reduce stress, even ancient jokes like "She was only the stablemen's daughter, but all the horsemen knew her," even jokes as old as "Does this bus go to Duluth? No, this bus goes beep beep." Or the blind man who picked up a hammer and saw. They keep on pleasing us, year after year.
To know and to serve God, of course, is why we're here, a clear truth, that, like the nose on your face, is near at hand and easily discernible but can make you dizzy if you try to focus on it hard. But a little faith will see you through. What else will do except faith in such a cynical, corrupt time? When the country goes temporarily to the dogs, cats must learn to be circumspect, walk on fences, sleep in trees, and have faith that all this woofing is not the last word. What is the last word, then? Gentleness is everywhere in daily life, a sign that faith rules through ordinary things: through cooking and small talk, through storytelling, making love, fishing, tending animals and sweet corn and flowers, through sports, music and books, raising kids — all the places where the gravy soaks in and grace shines through. Even in a time of elephantine vanity and greed, one never has to look far to see the campfires of gentle people.
We Are Still Married : Stories & Letters (1989),, "The Meaning of Life", p. 217