Spark humor

Jeff Nelligan • February 19, 2024

"For goodness sake, I don't want the heel."

An exasperated lady had just directed that precious barb at a scowling supermarket

butcher as he was slicing up a two-foot-long salami and the two then became

engaged in a snarky back-and-forth. My middle son was a witness to this exchange

and it became a family classic, providing many laughs and becoming the prompt

for many such stories years afterward.

Here’s how it came about: Virtually every weekend the four of us, often with a

host of parents and kids, would go to the local high school and play football and

lacrosse and soccer chase each other around on the wide-open fields for hours,

even in the colder months.


Part of this ritual was lunch, plain fare eaten at the field. On the day of salami

woman, we were at the grocery store getting provisions and it was the middle kid’s

turn to get lunch meat while the others got French bread and cream soda (like I

said, plain fare). He came back to us at the check-out counter and repeated in a

perfect mimic the entire encounter between the impatient lady and the annoyed

butcher.


We all loved it – it was a genuinely funny story and this sometimes-stoic son was

genuinely excited as he told it. I was so surprised and pleased with the recitation of

the scene that I told the boys they’d get a dollar every time they had a funny story

about something they’d seen. “See how your brother got that one? Boys, the world

is full of these kinds of situations and people and jokes. Keep your eyes and ears

open and go find them.” Obviously, the dollar was a hook but over the years it

became symbolic to both them and me - the real thrill was in them bringing back

something to share.


Of course, it helped that I often acted like a joker as well. When we’d go to a

hamburger place or Mexican restaurant or a pizza joint, I’d order a taco at the first,

a pizza at the second and a burger at the last. Then I’d make a confused scene

feigning surprise when I received the obvious answer to my question – “We don’t

serve that” -- from the waiter. The boys knew this nuttiness was going to play

out and would be giggling in anticipation of the whole routine. Hey, it wasn’t high

comedy but it was funny enough to us.


Once the eldest told us about walking through a parking lot and seeing a woman

accidentally back her car into another and when immediately challenged by the

other car owner – standing next to the fresh dent and the resulting debris on the

ground – the women said the dent “had always been there.” My kid was excited to

tell us and it was a funny story. The youngest is checking in for a soccer camp and

providing information and is asked,


“When is your birthday?” “Every year” he responds. Pay the man, Shirley.

And be ready to surprise them; again, always try to be loose yourself. During

halftime at one of the eldest son’s games, I was carrying a lacrosse stick I’d found

lying near a car in the parking lot. The middle kid and his friends walked by me on

the sidelines at halftime and my son’s face lit up in surprise. “Dad, what are you

doing with that stick?” I responded nonchalantly, “I’m gonna warm-up Wheeler,”

who was the varsity goalie.


Immediately, the kid and his entourage could see the whole scene was so patently

preposterous – the old man in a suit and tie, shuffling out on a field in front of 200

spectators to take practice shots on a premier goalie – that they began howling with

laughter. “Gonna warm up Wheeler” became a family staple. Of course I fell short

a few times going for the laugh but I was always trying.


The most important aspect of this whole exercise was that the boys were

consistently on the look-out for the funny situations, furthering their awareness and

contributing to their upbeat outlook. Our many times together in the everyday

world – and man, get it in your head that’s where we all live – could verge on

laugh-a-minute type affairs sometimes.


All three were and remain good natured kids, quick with a smile and seeking the

good. Let me tell you, this kind of attitude doesn’t just occur out of nowhere. It’s

learned through active example and repetition. Kids who are looking for a gag are

looking and in doing so are absorbing a lot more.

___________________________


ABOUT THE BOOK

Every Dad in America wants to raise a resilient kid. Four Lessons from My Three Sons charts the course.  

Written by a good-natured but unyielding father, this slim volume describes how his off-beat and yet powerful forms of encouragement helped his sons obtain the assurance, strength and integrity needed to achieve personal success and satisfaction. This book isn't 300 pages of pop child psychology or a fatherhood "journey" filled with jargon and equivocation. It's tough and hard and fast. It’s about how three boys made their way to the U.S. Naval Academy, Williams, and West Point – and beyond.
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By Jeff Nelligan January 29, 2026
It's 8:30 a.m. on a humid August Tuesday and I’m on the roof of the U.S. Capitol, the Dome rising 280 feet directly above. In my arms is a stack of thin boxes and I’m navigating a plywood gangplank leading to a rusted 15-foot flagpole. A colleague joins me carrying more boxes. She opens one and hands me a 2’ by 4’ American flag which I affix to the pole’s lanyard, raise and lower quickly, unfasten and hand to her as she hands me another. A third colleague brings out more boxes and retrieves the ones containing flown flags. This little dance continues for three straight hours. Afterwards, my colleagues and I carefully re-fold each flag and affix to it a “Certificate of Authenticity from the Architect of the Capitol” reading “This flag was flown over the U.S. Capitol in honor of____” and fill in the blank: “The Greater Bakersfield, California Chamber of Commerce”…the 80 th birthday of Wilbert Robinson of Bowie, Maryland, proud veteran of the Vietnam War…” We will perform this task for five days a week until Congress returns from recess. This is my very first job in Washington, D.C. and obviously, I have what it takes. *** Flag duty began my 32-year run in politics and government, which ended last week. It included four tours of duty on Capitol Hill working for three Members of Congress, two Presidential appointments serving Cabinet officers in the Departments of State and Health and Human Services, posts at two independent agencies, and a career position at FDA. The jobs were a mix of purely political positions where being on the south side of an election meant cleaning out your desk and getting good at catchy LinkedIn posts – twice that happened - and career federal government stints where the stakes were less exhilarating. *** I worked principally as press secretary and special assistant. The former job, a common D.C. occupation, was transformed in 2008 with the onset of social media, morphing from daily pronouncements of your boss’s wisdom on the issues of the day to rapid-fire postings on the obvious unreasonableness, even cruelties of your opponents. Sound familiar? As for the latter occupational specialty, special assistant, the terms ‘bagman’ or ‘fixer’ are more apt: A guy always two steps behind the principal but always ready to step up and fix whatever problem arose in daily political life. Need a special vegan lunch for Congressman Busybody, White House tour tickets for the Big Bad High volleyball team, or the personal phone number of the executive assistant to a heavy-duty lobbyist? I was your guy. Every leader needs a fixer. Like anyone else who works in D.C., I occasionally participated in a glam political moment – you know, that unique, epic event that would never ever be forgotten in D.C. history Until it was. *** The best part about government life was working for many men and women who were at the top of their game in the D.C. Swamp, one of the toughest arenas on the planet. Their success, from the vantage point of your humble correspondent, was attributable to four simple rules of life. “If you can’t measure it, it didn’t happen.” Every office I was in kept metrics on virtually every aspect of the principal’s week – how many meetings and events attended, X posts, interviews, committee votes, constituent letters, action items completed from memos?! Numbers, numbers, and always keeping score – and always the quest to improve. “Never lose it.” In a lifetime of political jobs, I may have heard a boss raise her or his voice half a dozen times, even during and after major-league setbacks. Self-control was their hallmark. One boss, a powerful House Committee chairman once confided to me, “I’m fine that 80 precent of my job is humoring these guys, no matter how crazy they get.” An equally valuable corollary skill: Humility. The ability of these individuals to admit to colleagues and staff when wrong on a particular issue. Which counterintuitively only upped their long-term credibility. “Something’s always gonna go south.” Always the need for a plan C. Every initiative during an upcoming day was scoured for what elements would interfere and how, if they occurred, they could be ameliorated. Hence, in the rare times when things did go south, there was always preparation in advance for getting to 80 percent of what was needed. “Good is not good enough.” Successful politicians and government leaders – and their staffs – never get complacent. If they do, they’re not long for the Swamp. Everyone is always hustling for the edge. A useful corollary learned from an NCO when I was in the Army: Always have your hand up. Volunteering is at the heart of the hustle, the cheerful willingness to take on the new and unknown and do whatever it takes. *** And that’s how it all started. On the second day of my first congressional tour the Member solicited volunteers “for a fun recess job that’ll get you out of the office.” It was flag duty and from that day onwards my government career could only go up. *****
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