How to Become a Mr. Big

By Jim Hagarty
2013

My favourite chocolate bar is Mr. Big, a popular confection in Canada, and for years, I have joked with anyone who has seen me eating one that the way to become a Mr. Big is to eat a Mr. Big, referring to my somewhat roundish physique.

That changed a couple of weeks ago when I used the joke on a guy who was also buying a chocolate bar and his response was, “Ya, I heard they put Viagra in those things.”

It took a few seconds, but the realization finally swept over me that some people might have jumped to the conclusion that guy did rather than the one I had intended.

Another joke, unfortunately, has now been permanently retired.

Once again I have outclevered myself.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.