Solving stress
Stress-stress-stress! That’s a constant subject nowadays. The way it seems to work out, rich folks got to psychiatrists, government employees get free stress clinics, and regular folk drink beer and whiskey. Sadly! Some, at all social levels, go off the deep end on drugs; however, recent studies say some stress is necessary to motivate a person in solving everyday situations.
The old Webster’s says mental stress is “subject to the action of external forces,” and it mentions “tension” and “overstrain.” All people have stress of one kind or another, and have had for eons. There is just more talk about it these days and more study of its affect on individuals and society.
We should all remember the famous quotation from ancient Greek philosopher Plato: “Unmitigated seriousness is always out of place in human affairs.”
I found my best treatment for many years were those weekly hikes and climbs in the mountains. Fishing and golf are both good relaxers... until you start taking them too seriously. If a person hiked on Thursday, fished and golfed the weekend, then drank beer the other nights, he could probably get “under stressed.” I have actually observed those symptoms in several of my personal acquaintances. Of course there are a few role models in the funny papers... like Andy Capp and Hagar the Horrible.
Now that I am over 88, a darn good stress fighter I’m using the most is a tried and true “sense of humor.” There are few times and places where no humor is welcome, but sooner or later, if a person is to get through the stress of personal loss, mental trauma, or physical suffering ... there must be a smile.
That’s why I am going to retell a couple of classic old jokes and fax ‘em to the Starvin’ Stud.
There was this local fella hiding in the brush on a remote lake and he saw a loon swimming by. When it got close he blasted away with a shotgun, fished the dead bird out of the water and crouched back down in the bushes. Two game wardens on a nearby hill witnessed the event and took off to the lake.
The poacher was readying to fire on another one when the game wardens came running up and ordered him to throw down his gun. One yelled “You nut! What do you think you’re doing? Why would you shoot a beautiful protected bird like a loon?”
The fella seemed surprised and replied “Wuhl heck! I been doin’ this for a long time. I just take ‘em home, pick ‘um and eat ‘um.” The game wardens were furious. They handcuffed the miscreant, walked him to their jeep and headed for the county jail. On the way one of the game wardens let curiosity get the best of him and he quietly asked the prisoner, “Just what does a loon taste like?”
The poacher thought for a minute and answered, “Ah’d say loons taste like somethin’ about half way between bald eagle and whoopin’ crane.”
OK! So that was a REALLY OLD story. That’ the kind I know the most of and to prove it, here’s another.
This Indian went to the psychologist and the doc told him to lie down on the couch, then he asked, “What’s bothering you Chief?”
The Indian says, “Well, it’s a reoccurring dream that I have almost every night. One time I’ll dream I’m a teepee and then the next time I’m a wigwam. It is just driving me crazy.”
The psychologist rubbed his chin for a minute then replied, “I’ve figured out your problem Chief. You’re just two tents.”
Sorry ... maybe someone will tell me a new joke this week.
G. George Ostrom is an award-winning columnist. He lives in Kalispell.