The Jester Goes Back To School

For some inexplicable reason, The Jester decided to take a writing course at the Oregon Coast Community College. A real course with credit, not the continuing education type designed to enrich the lives of senior citizens. Or keep them out of bars. Whichever applies.

It’s been a long time since The Jester has been on this side of the table and it’s a little scary. I mean there’s homework. Over the last few decades, I’ve had assignments, tasks, output, milestones, summaries, action plans, workplans, papers, abstracts, memos, more memos, impact statements, mea culpas, recommendations, position descriptions, reviews, and reports. But homework, damn that’s harsh. I’ve started having those dreams again where I’m running naked down Times Square trying to turn my homework in on time. Of course, in those days Times Square was populated by hookers, pimps, and dealers so running around naked waving pieces of papers was no big deal compared to the current Anderson Cooper/Kathy Griffin (rest her soul) New Year’s Eve era where you’d probably get arrested. Or freeze.

And though it galls him no end to admit it, The Jester has ‘stuff’ to learn. We read a story about a wife’s reaction as the husband devolved to an ape then to a turtle and then other forms of aquatic life. The Jester fixated on the screwed up evolutionary sequence – how did a turtle get in the evolutionary chain? But one of the students astutely pointed out the story was an allegory about the breakdown of the relationship, how the two were drifting apart. Which might explain The Jester’s divorce from Wife #1 when he grew copious amount of hair on his back.

I could go on, but I have a homework assignment.


The long-awaited bench press contest between THE JESTER, hereinafter referred to as THE EXALTED DEFENDER OF OLD GUYS, and his 18-year-old grandson, hereinafter referred to as “The Kid” took place on Dec. 28. (THE JESTER is the handsome one in the pictures.) The winner was to be determined by the number of reps at half body weight in one minute. Seems simple enough. But much to the disappointment of the crowd, the contest ended in a technical draw because the timekeeper, Mrs. Jester, gave the The Kid a false start, and he had to start over. To be clear, THE JESTER did not ask Mrs. Jester to cheat for him. He is quite capable of doing that on his own, thank you.

THE EXALTED DEFENDER OF OLD GUYS pumped out 40 clean reps while The Kid was able to push out only 37 on his second try and he was shaking so much it looked like someone put a 120 V electrical cord up his butt. To be fair, which is really difficult, he probably could have pushed out 43-45 reps if Mrs. Jester hadn’t given him a false start. But on the other hand, because scientists always have other hands, THE JESTER had been pushing out 42-43 reps in training but missed his target body weight due to Xmas party bloat and had to add an extra 5 pounds to his bench press.

The Kid “had” to go back to North Carolina to see his girlfriend. So, the rematch will have to wait. Unless The Kid wants to retire while he is ahead


In recounting his hideous attack at the “Nerd Out” bar, The Jester incorrectly identified the green hero who saved him from the alien insectoid stuck to his face. The post incorrectly identified the hero as the Jolly Green Giant. Actually, it was Shrek.

In his defense, The Jester was thrown by the bowl of peas on the bar. But hey, they were Mexican jumping peas who caught him by surprise.

The Jester regrets having to make a correction and that the two green lugs are pissed at him.

Just Another Night Out in Portland [Portland Weird]

In their contribution to keeping Portland weird, The Jester and Mrs. Jester sauntered up to the “The Nerd Out” to have a night cap or three of imported black vodka and pink Tennessee whiskey. With a back of organic, fair trade green peas from the Very, Very Happy Valley. This being Portland and all. 

The Jester was minding his peas and queues, reading the comics laminated into the counter top and talking to Mrs. Jester about the relative merits of Raid vs. other bug poisons. (Being exceptionally smart, The Jester often multitasks. Or just pretends to listen to Mrs. Jester while doing something else. But since he was talking, The Jester was listening intently.) Then suddenly out of nowhere – well, actually to the bar stool to the right – this vermin from hell attacks. Attacked maliciously. And painfully. Being Portland, The Jester tried to dialogue with the unruly insectoid while trying to shove it off on another patron. But to no avail.

Fortunately, The Jester’s good buddy, The Jolly Green Giant, was sitting on a nearby table. You might ask,“Why was he sitting on a table?”. But if you were paying attention, you’d remember that he’s a giant – ergo he’s too big to sit in a chair. You really need to pay attention.

Jolly, as his friends call him or Mr. Giant to you, came to The Jester’s rescue. After yanking the blood sucker off The Jester’s face, Jolly proceeded to beat the snot out of the attacker. Assuming insects have snot. He led with a leg kick followed by a nasty right elbow to the mandibles. Then in a rarely seen move, Jolly took the reeling arachnid down with a six-leg takedown and finalized the deal with cuticle breaking ground and pound. Jolly has definitely picked up some moves watching the UFC.

After 86ing the offending arachnid, Jolly, Mrs. Jester, and The Jester sat down to another round of shots and peas. Just another night, this being Portland and all.