About puns

So I let the Calvinist read my post about him yesterday. Such is his good nature that he only laughed at my cracks about his age and Sponge Bob pajamas. About that last point: no, he does not actually wear Sponge Bob pajamas, but he perhaps the only man I know under 60 who does wear a full set of formal striped pajamas to bed. But I was not surprised by this. After all, this is a man who uses a shaving brush and mug, owns a creme brulee torch, and drives a BMW 7 series. The man is one of the last hold-outs of the type of elegence once described as "continental" (Keith, look it up).

But anyway, the only real howl of protest I got from the man was when I described his puns as, "horrible". His face looked ashen, and tears welled up in his beady Calvinistic eyes. But I cannot disown my remark.

To be fair, I am not a fan of puns. In fact, I despise them. To me, there are two kinds of people in the world: those that make and enjoy puns, and.......sane people. Now, I relialize that a pun does take a type of mental quickness and verbal acuity. But just because one CAN do something does not mean one SHOULD do something (insert your favorite Tim Robertson anecdote here).

In fact, in my 38 trips around the sun, I have found only one person who's puns I actually enjoy. But, gentle readers, I am loth to publish his name (but am quite happy I have worked both "acuity" and "loth" into the same post). Complimenting someone on his puns is like telling a poacher what a good shot he is. Still, I did quite slander the blighter in an earlier post (and just called him a blighter to boot) so I suppose I should make amends. So here goes. The only person I have met who can consistenly pun in such a way as to bring laughter and not groans is....(long dramatic pause)....Chris Huff. There. I said it. My apologies to the Calvinist and to the world.