In praise of crazy (standard:humor, 905 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Mar 15 2014	Views/Reads: 14384/1589	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I made the mistake the other night of complaining out loud. It is one thing to complain under your breath so that nobody hears you or knows what you are complaining about. But when you complain out loud, then you run the chance of somebody hearing you.

I made the mistake the other night of complaining out loud. It is one
thing to complain under your breath so that nobody hears you or knows 
what you are complaining about. But when you complain out loud, then 
you run the chance of somebody hearing you. 

The somebody I was most concerned about was the Gracious Mistress of the
Parsonage. Some things are meant to be kept to yourself and for obvious 
reasons. 

For some reason, who knows what it was, I let my guard down and
vocalized my complaining. I must confess that it rather caught me off 
guard. 

“What are you complaining about,” my wife said directing the question to
me. 

At first, I did not know what she was talking about because I did not
realize that I was vocalizing my complaints. 

All I could say at the time was, “Did I say that out loud?” 

My wife has a delicate way of backing me in a corner where I have to say
what is on my mind. Fortunately, I do not have much of a mind for 
anything to get on. Unfortunately, my tongue is not attached to 
anything and so it is loosey-goosey. 

What I was complaining about were all the crazy people, particularly on
television. Just when you think you have seen the most crazy thing, 
something else or someone else takes the lead in the race to 
crazyville. 

Since my wife asked me, I let go on a very eloquent rant against crazy.
At this point, I forget the exact crazy that set me off. But it does 
not matter. If it were not one thing, it would be another thing. I have 
tried throughout my life to be an equal crazy complainer. If you are 
crazy, you can be sure I am going to complain about you. 

“You, in particular,” my wife was directing this toward me, “ought to be
quite thankful about all of the crazy people in the world.” 

That set me off on another rant. I am not thankful for the crazy people
in this world. The less crazy people the better I am going to like it. 
And I made the mistake of telling her exactly what I thought about 
that. We do not need more crazy people, I argued. Someone in Congress 
ought to pass a law against crazy. 

While I said that, it occurred to me that most of the crazy people are
in Congress. 

I do not want more crazy people in this world. Enough is enough already,
move on. 

“Really,” my wife argued, “you ought to be happy about all the crazy
people in the world.” 

At this point, I was tempted to direct my complaining toward her. But
you know what that would mean, and so do I. 

I finally broke down and asked her what in the world she was talking
about. 

One of the things I have learned throughout the years of marital bliss
is that if you ask your wife to tell you something, she will do it. But 
I was desperate at this time and I needed a little bit of 
clarification. 

She looked at me, paused as if she was collecting her thoughts and then
said, “You should be thankful that there are so many crazy people out 
in the world. The more crazy people there are, the more you are going 
to fit in. If for some reason we could eliminate all the crazy people 
in the world you would be a very lonely person.” 

She continued her explanation by saying, “Every crazy person takes the
focus away from you. If there were not enough crazy people out in the 
world people would be focusing on you and complaining about how crazy 


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