Jack McCall: Even humor gives way to political correctness – The Hartsville Vidette

By Jack McCall

Sometime back in the late 1980s, I booked a speaking engagement with Mercy Childrens Hospital in Kansas City, MO. The speaking fee for the after-dinner presentation was the largest I had ever received. It was also the first time I had flown to a far-away city to make a speech. To make the deal even sweeter, the client paid all my travel expenses and put me up in the Ritz Carlton Hotel.

The afternoon I checked into the Ritz Carlton I was feeling mighty proud of myself. And to a degree, my feelings were justified. But, as I sat in my room, I remember smugly offering self-congratulations and thinking to myself you have finally made it. I should have been considering the Bible verse that goes like this: Pride goeth before a fall.

My audience that evening was to be comprised primarily of physicians and their guests. Physicians, I had learned over the years, can be a tough audience, especially for a humorist. I knew my work was cut out for me.

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When I arrived at the hospital banquet room, I was seated with three physicians and their wives. I guessed the couples to be in their early sixties. They were very friendly and we enjoyed warm, pleasant conversation.

As I sat with them, I decided to include in my remarks that evening a little story I had often told about husbands and wives. Its a cute little story that had always gone over very well with audiences.

When it came time for my part of the evenings program, everything went well.

As a matter of fact, the audience was very attentive and laughed easily. One young man sitting directly in front of the podium had an especially good time. He provided me with some much-needed energy for this particular setting.

In the body of my presentation, the story I told about husbands and wives went thusly:

The setting is an Oklahoma cow town, late on a winters night, when a blizzard was in full force. The only establishment still open was the bakery, where the owner had stayed late to do some paperwork.

The baker is surprised when he hears someone stomping the snow off their boots on the front porch. The front door opens and the wind literally blows a little man inside the bakery.

The man is wrapped up from head to toe snow boots, overcoat, toboggan, and muffler. He begins to uncover his head and slowly approaches the counter.

When he reaches the counter, the late-night customer, in a low voice, says, I would like two sweet rolls, please.

Two sweet rolls? the baker asks, in disbelief.

Yes, thats all I want, came his answer.

After they exchange the two sweet rolls and money, the baker, still somewhat in shock, asks, Do mind if I ask you a question?

No, I dont mind, says the man.

Well, heres the question, says the baker. Are you married?

You dont think my mother would have sent me out on a night like this, do you? replied the man.

Now thats a funny little story. And anyone who has ever been married understands its dynamics.

When I told that story that night in Kansas City it went over well. At least I thought it did.

At the end of my presentation, I gave myself a score of 7 on the basis of 1 to 10. I didnt feel like I had hit a home run, but considering the makeup of the audience, I was reasonably satisfied with my performance.

As the audience members were dispersing to go home, a few individuals came up to me to say complimentary things about my presentation. One man in particular lingered to make pleasant conversation. Thats when I saw her coming.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a petite, redheaded woman approaching me from the left. Her hair was fashioned in a smart, short cut, and she was dressed professionally.

I finished my conversation with the man and turned to greet her.

Mr. McCall, she began. I enjoyed your program this evening.

Well, thank you very much, I graciously answered.

She was not finished.

But, I did not appreciate your little story about husbands and wives, she said rather flatly.

I was caught completely off guard.

As a matter of fact, I, along with some of my colleagues, was offended by your assumption that the women in the audience were wives.

I felt myself almost reeling from her attack. In an instant, I decided to make the transition from professional speaker, whom she thought needed to be dressed down, to good ole Southern boy who was there to learn.

I am so sorry, I offered. I would never knowingly tell a story I thought would offend my audience members. To be honest, I test all my stories very carefully over long periods of time before I make them a part of my presentation.

She took the bait.

Without even knowing it, she went from critic to counselor in the blink of an eye. This feminist physician would have been furious to know her nurturing side had suddenly taken over.

Oh, you have to be careful, she cautioned. It is offensive to many professional women to be thought of as wives. And when you are speaking before a group of physicians, especially pediatricians, many of them are going to be women.

I appreciate your bringing that to my attention, I said. In the future I will be much more careful in choosing my stories.

She smiled a professional smile.

Well, it was nice meeting you, she said. Good evening were her parting words.

I was just short of feeling stunned. The words shell shocked might be better. In all my years, I had never been openly criticized after a speech.

As I stood there trying to clear my head, the person who had secured my services for the engagement approached me.

Well, I see you heard from the feminist delegation, she said, dryly.

I surely did, I answered.

You cant please everyone, she said through a beleaguered smile.

I guess thats true, I answered. I noticed my voice had the sound of defeat in it.

I didnt sleep well at the Ritz Carlton that evening. I tossed and turned all night.

For most of my life I had lived under the incorrect assumption that everyone liked me. And during that restless night I came to gripes with the fact that there are some people out there in life whom you just cant please.

Some wont like the way I look. Some wont like the way I talk (Southern.)

Some just wont like me. And I came to the conclusion that that was all right with me.

That evening in Kansas City was my first encounter with suffering the consequences of being politically incorrect.

It seems in a few short years, we, as a society, have begun to leave common sense behind in exchange for political correctness more on that later.

I still think its a funny story. And Im still telling it.

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Jack McCall: Even humor gives way to political correctness - The Hartsville Vidette