Randomization of Profundity

Tonight washing dishes with N looking on, I found myself singing “If I Were a Rich Man” from Fiddler on the Roof. M and I are resisting living beyond our means, so that we can prioritize our family life, and at times such as these, when we are trying to make decisions about buying and selling a home, locating or relocating, etc., we realize that this prioritization may cost us in some–albeit less important–ways, like not buying the beautifully perfect homestead because we don’t want house payments that are half of our income. That would be too stressful, like that stressfully long sentence you just read.

So maybe house hunting isn’t our calling. It seems we either end up finding really cool places that are too expensive, affordable houses that are falling apart, or affordable, fix-up-able houses in highly inconvenient locations.

Today Old Fart emailed a photo to me, titled “Redneck Mansion.” According to snopes.com, it’s actually a play set, not a once-in-a-lifetime real estate opportunity. Here I should make some profound statement such as, “This photo reminds me to maintain a sense of humor in my life so that I don’t get all stressed about little stressors.”

The trouble is, I don’t feel quite like making any profound statements, other than I’m terrifically glad that the world doesn’t feel the need to know whenever I have anything like a urinary tract infection (go Robert Byrd! Is the West Virginia stock market crashing yet?). Instead, I’m going to recount my two favorite jokes from the Prairie Home Companion joke show this past weekend:

George W. Bush stopped at a Burger King drive-thru window and asked for two Whoppers. “Okay,” said the BK employee. “You’re an intellectual genius and the best president ever.”

(Sorry, but I can’t remember the other favorite joke. I even woke M up to see if she remembers what my favorite jokes were, but she could only remember the Whopper one, too. Sorry. And sorry, M.)

Well. Enough said. I need to get some shuteye, myself!