Humor | Cathy C. Hall Writes

A week ago, the economy claimed another magazine market and so came an end to my columnist’s days. But I’m ever so grateful for all those years of writing about the funny stuff in life. I learned a ton about humor writing, and writing in general. I met folks whom I would never have met, and I shared lots of family stories that still haunt/embarrass my kids.

Ah, good times, good times. So, I thought I’d share one of my earliest columns here at the Hall of a Fame. Sort of a fond farewell to the art form of writing the funny in 350 words or less. And it just happens to be about Thanksgiving. (P.S. Hope yours is swell!)

How to Handle Thanksgiving

To understand what passes as cooking in the Hall household, one must first be familiar with the Cathy C. Hall 15 Minute Rule of Cooking. Namely, that a quarter hour (fifteen minutes) is all the time that I (Cathy C. Hall) will spend on food preparation (cooking). So you’re probably asking yourself, “Say, how does she handle something really big, something like Thanksgiving?”

Interesting question.

Back in my young newlywed days, no one expected much from me in the kitchen. I could slap together a mean tuna-burger, but somehow that tasty dish didn’t exactly scream, “Happy Thanksgiving!” So, my mom or mother-in-law usually ended up with the holiday detail.

Not that my mother-in-law minded. She was a great cook-from-scratch kind of woman who frequently wondered why her son had not keeled over from starvation living under my roof. For the first few years, she dutifully prepared a Southern Thanksgiving feast fit for a small army. Everyone was happily stuffed. (Except for the bird.)

But one year, someone gave my mother a smoked turkey. It seemed a waste not to fix it. My mom and I discussed the possibility of toting the bird to my mother-in-law’s, but that seemed a little…oh, what’s the word? Oh yeah, rude. So we came up with an alternate plan. I should have Thanksgiving at my house and prepare all the food. My mom thought it was a terrific idea.

We sat at the table that year, my parents, my mother-in-law, my hubby and me. Everything looked delicious. Everything smelled delicious. But something was not quite…right. I believe my mother-in-law said it best: “This turkey is raw.” That put a bit of a damper on the festivities.

After that, it was understood that my cooking services would no longer be required. I had used the Cathy C. Hall Ruination Rule of Cooking Something Really Big. Namely, that I (Cathy C. Hall) will totally screw up (ruin) a turkey (Something Really Big).

So that’s how I handle Thanksgiving. I let someone else do the cooking and everyone is happy. (Well, except for the bird).

“I’ve learned that life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes.”
~Andy Rooney (1919-2011)

And so the 60 Minutes humorist has come to the end of the roll. But he had a good run, didn’t he? (No pun intended. Although Andy Rooney might laugh at that.)

60 Minutes and I go way back…I mean, way back. Back to the early days of the first born Junior Hall. Because I’d quit my outside-world job, and was home with a baby all week, I suppose I was starved for some kind of intellectual stimulation (no offense to the Beneficent Mr. Hall, of course.) So I watched this program and got…well, I guess “over-stimulated” would be the right word.

The Beneficent Mr. Hall would likely say “crazy.” Whatever. The point is, after 6 months or so of screaming like a banshee at the 60 Minutes folks and the provocative, investigative stories they reported, Mr. Hall advised me to step away from the television. At least, during 60 Minutes. So I did, for the sake of my blood pressure. But every once in awhile, when I was feeling a bit nostalgic, I’d watch the last 10 minutes so I could catch Andy Rooney. I mean, Andy was hilarious.

Did you ever wonder why pizza is round? In Italy, pizza is oblong. But I suppose in America, we like things round. And with lots of cheese on top. You could put a mound of mozzarella on a manhole cover and some New Yorker would eat it.

Andy didn’t say that. (I don’t think. I think I just made that up. But then again, I may be channelling him.) For years, I’ve done Andy Rooney “Did you ever wonder” bits. See, the great thing about the “Did you ever wonder” bits is that you can wonder about anything.

Did you ever wonder why dogs have four legs? Why don’t we say they have two legs and two arms? They only have one butt, though. But four legs come in handy for all that scratching. I wish I had four legs. I itch in some weird places.

Did you ever wonder why those little sticky notes are yellow? Urine is yellow. So’s a school bus.

Did you ever wonder how a guy got a job for a zillion years asking questions like “Did you ever wonder?”?

Still, I’ll miss the old guy.