The Pun Also Rises

"Paging Dr. Scribbles"

    When I was young, my teachers and relatives always told me that I would make a good doctor. This made no sense to me, because I not only despised doctors, but was made incredibly squeamish about what doctors did. I had no desire to be within fifty yards of drawing blood, giving shots, or anything else in that vein. So why then was everyone telling me that doctordom was in my future? One word: Handwriting.

    My handwriting is really, really bad. No, worse than that. Let me try to explain. Throughout my elementary school years, I don't think I ever surpassed a C in handwriting. When I was ready to go into fourth grade, my parents decided that my inability to write cursive was a good reason for me to really enjoy the fruits of third grade. Which, I might point out, were fruitless because I still can't write cursive in any legible form.

    Heck, I thought it was called cursive because whenever I tried to write it (and inevitably failed), I'd end up swearing a lot. This in turn was frowned on because it was supposedly offensive to the virgin ears of my contemporaries. Naturally, I knew this was nonsense, and people just didn't want me to curse because it was against the rules. The whole "virgin ears" argument was a lie I could see right through.

    After all, very few people have virgin ears. Because I'd guess that many of you have used Q-tips. There, I said it, no point in denying it. And don't play innocent with me, because you stick that cotton swab in there and wiggle it around and then you get that little ear-gasm. You know what I'm talking about. And yet in spite of how good that feels, I never seem to have Q-tips around.

    This isn't because I'm an ascetic, by any means. It's just that cotton swabs never make the hot-list for necessities when you're shopping. Or at least not while I'm shopping. Priority One is food, which you need to survive. Clothing may come a close second. And by the time you get to personal hygiene products, you've got your soap and shampoo and toothpaste and toothbrush and deodorant and seventy-three other things if you're female, but especially for males I think Q-tips just don't make the important list. And this is really a shame, because it really does feel good when you clean your ears. Not only physically, but there's this mental sense of accomplishment when you see the results of your work.

    But enough waxing nostalgic. I was talking about my handwriting, which has been compared unfavorably to both chicken scratchings and Egyptian hieroglyphics. (To be fair, hieroglyphics are much cooler.) It was a source of great joy to me that as I progressed in my schooling, handwriting stopped being graded. And since papers were typed on computers instead of written by hand, I thought I was scot-free.

    Sadly, scot showed up again, in the form of college professors who had to deal with my unfortunate penmanship. Many merely insulted me and complained about my poor writing, and some asked me to translate, but I was truly surprised by the professor who demanded I rewrite the essay on my final exam because it was illegible. To this day, I write things on a computer whenever possible, but when people see my handwriting they still occasionally tell me I should be a doctor.

    I think this strikes people as a good idea because doctors write the prescriptions for drugs that can cure your illness and save your life. Or alternatively make you very sick if you get the wrong drugs because the pharmacist couldn't read the prescription correctly. And what a great joke that is! It's no wonder people tell me I should be a doctor. I bet these same people encounter epileptics and tell them they should become surgeons, while suggesting that those with narcolepsy seek careers as firefighters.

    Anyway, to all those people, I must sadly confess that I will never be a doctor. But I'll be glad to write your prescription if you'd like me to.

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    Seth Brown is a local humor scribbler whose best puns are unscripted. He is a frequent contributor to the Washington Post's Style Invitational, and his first book "Think You're The Only One?" was recently published by Barnes & Noble. His Web site is www.RisingPun.com

All work on this page is copyright Seth Brown. If you are sharing it, please give attribution. If you want to reprint it, please contact me first.