RIVER CITY JOURNAL: THEN THERE WAS THE ONE ABOUT THE DEAD DOG...

Jokes are meant to be funny, not literary. Herewith are some examples which you, dear readers, are free to use.

One of my colleagues stopped me in the hall and began, matter-of-factly, telling me a story. Before I knew what was happening, I realized I was listening to a joke.

I must say it has been a long time since anyone told me a joke. Back in April the popular public-radio show on Saturday evenings, "A Prairie Home Companion," devoted its entire two hours to the lost art of joke-telling. One joke after another -- good, bad and indifferent. Ethnic jokes. Traveling salesmen jokes. Knock-knock jokes. Fat-lady jokes.

Out of this nonstop recitation, I only remember one joke. I've told it to several people, and they all laughed. Well, not all. One listener got this pained expression but has retold the joke dozens of times, I'm told.

When I was growing up, telling jokes was an art form. Children told jokes. Teen-agers told jokes. Adults told jokes. Preachers told jokes. The barber told jokes you were embarrassed to tell again. Men told each other jokes they wouldn't tell their wives.

It was not uncommon, in those days, to hear the familiar phrase, "Say, did you hear the one about... ?" You don't hear that much any more. There are a handful of joke tellers hereabouts who do their best to keep the tradition alive. Chuck McGinty knows more jokes than diamonds have facets. And the Rev. Larry Gallamore and Dr. Richard Martin frequently enliven a certain local civic club with their quick wit from time to time. I'm told there are a lot of Methodists and a lot of people with allergies who are used to this. God had a sense of humor, you know -- he made men and asses in the same week, and there are some theologians who suspect he got a mite mixed up. And the old chestnut that humor is the best medicine still hasn't been overturned by the Food and Drug Administration. Yet.

I am a great audience for jokes. I'll laugh at almost any joke, even the bad ones, because I admire the telling of the story and the attempt to deliver a punch line effectively. Sometimes a poorly told joke is funnier because of the telling process.

So here was my colleague, standing in the hall, telling me a joke. It was a joke you could tell anywhere, even your Sunday school class. I'd like to see more people tell jokes. Over on Kelo Valley we used to say that sometimes you need to prime the pump. To that end I am going to share both jokes, the one I remember from the radio show, and the one my colleague told me. Try telling them to anyone who will listen, and pretty soon there may be an avalanche of jokes around here. Give it a try.

OK. Here's my colleague's joke:

A man thinks his dog has died, but he isn't sure. So he calls the vet to come check the dog. The vet comes and looks at the dog and tells the man the dog is dead. But the man wants the vet to be absolutely certain. So the vet goes to his car and gets a cat out of a box. He puts the cat next the dog, and the cat smacks the dog's nose with its paw. Then it runs over the dog, first from head to tail and then from side to side. The vet puts the cat back in its box and tells the man he is absolutely certain the dog is dead. The man asks, "How much do I owe you?" "$2,060," replies the vet. "What? How can it be that expensive?" "Well," says the vet, "it's $60 for my fee and $2,000 for the cat scan."

Ba-boom.

OK. Here's the joke I heard on the radio:

A chicken walks into the public library and says to the librarian, "Bo-o-o-ok!" The startled librarian looks at the chicken and says, "What did you say?" "Bo-o-o-ok!" replies the chicken. "Oh, you want a book." So the librarian gives the chicken a book, and it leaves. Later, the chicken comes back and walks up the librarian. "Bo-o-o-ok! Bo-o-o-ok!" The librarian is taken aback but figures out the chicken wants two books. So she gives the chicken two books, and it leaves. Later, the chicken comes back and says, "Bo-o-o-ok! Bo-o-o-ok! Bo-o-o-ok!" So the librarian gives the chicken three books, and it leaves. The librarian thinks to herself, "You know, I've never seen a chicken read a book. I think I'll follow that chicken and see what it's up to." So the librarian finds the chicken walking down the road with three books under its wings. She follows the chicken for a ways, and then the chicken turns off into the swamp. So the librarian follows the chicken into the swamp, and the chicken goes up to a big bullfrog and puts down the three books. The bullfrog looks at the books and says, "Read-it! Read-it! Read-it!"

Ba-boom.

There you go. The rest is up to you. And if you see me out and about and want to tell me a joke, I'll gladly listen. Any time. Thanks.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.