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Dane Allred examines the "Abundance" of the universe in his list of "1001 Thanks"
Episodes
Thursday Oct 26, 2023
Wednesday Sep 06, 2023
Wednesday Sep 06, 2023
Dane Allred stand-up One minute at Boxcar Comedy Club right now.
Right now, give it up for Dane Allred.
He's so funny, he gets one minute, man.
Yeah, I teach BYU.
I'm in the wrong place.
I can't wait to tell these jokes to my students.
Especially the jiggly bits.
You're gonna have to explain that to me, Jiffy...
What's it called? Daniel, What was it?
Jiggly puff.
I'm excited to tell that.
Yeah, I'm gonna blame this on Michael.
I'm hoping to meet Helen Keller when I go to heaven.
Do you think people told her the Helen Keller jokes when she was alive?
If they didn't, I'm going to. And then she'll shoot me.
Because they'll be guns in heaven, right?
Most people in Utah aren't going to go to heaven if there aren't guns.
I want to meet Abraham Lincoln, too, because he said "The ballot is stronger than the bullet".
And I want to ask him if he still thinks that.
And then he'll shoot me.
I'm Dane Allred.
Dane Allred! That's how you do it, all right.
Monday Sep 04, 2023
Monday Sep 04, 2023
Oz Morris: Please welcome your adjunct professor, Dane Allred
Dane Allred: Thank you. I warned these two that we were going to do stand-up, but I didn’t think they knew they were going to be held hostage.
How long you been married?
Husband: Uh, twenty-seven years.
Dane Allred: Whoo! It is eternal, isn’t it? Feels like an eternity? Thumbs up! I’ve been married for 46 years. Talk to me in twenty years. How did you guys meet?
Husband: In Miami.
Dane Allred: And you’re from South America?
Wife: Yes.
Dane Allred: So, do you make fun of the North Americans? Like if somebody says “Are you from South America?” and you say, “Yeah, the good America. Not Central America. I’m sorry. The better America? I’m going to get beat up on the way out of here.
I teach at BYU (Brigham Young University). Everybody likes to talk about this. I’m just like, yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve taught there twenty-five years, but I shouldn’t, ‘cause I always have a beard, and I mean look at this (Dane in shorts). Wouldn’t you be disappointed you paid tuition? I mean, like, “I want a refund”.
And this is Oz’s favorite joke. I start teaching next Thursday, so I’m going to have to start wearing my garments again. So, I can’t, uh, I should show up in shorts one time, don’t you think? No?
It’s sad not being the oldest guy in the room. Isn’t being a boomer fun? Some of these guys will never be that old. No, how old do you think I am? Who thinks 40’s? 50’s? I am 65. Comedy keeps you young. Just look at Willy Juan. No, he’s twenty-three. I think I’ve met you’re first ex-wife.
Willy Juan: I feel for you.
Dane Allred: Her OnlyFans page. Trailer mom.
Willy Juan: That’s the one.
Dane Allred: So, how was, what was the date in Miami? You were just looking for love, and there she was?
Husband: No, she got in a car wreck and broke her jaw, and they sent me to the hospital to give her a blessing. And I just kept coming back.
Dane Allred: And that’s the way it started. And he told me earlier, he’s like “I wish I wouldn’t have fixed her jaw.” Isn’t it sad how all these men are so mean to women? But really all they want is a woman, but that’s why they do stand-up.
Wife: They want to lose her, right?
Dane Allred: Yes! And see, these guys right here, have not seen the girl that’s sitting over there. But when you do, it’s over, man.
Husband: Are there no women in stand-up?
Dane Allred: Not usually. Some. Ellen Degeneres. Who else can you guys think of?
Comedians: Whitney Cummings. Taylor Tomlinson.
Dane Allred: All those famous women that they just mentioned.
Husband: I mean here, though?
Dane Allred: Some. Julia Waterman hosts one. What are you shaking your head “No” for? I gotta tell you the most disturbing image tonight was…uh…
I love Howie Feels’ name. Don’t you love that name? Howie always knows how he feels.
And I can’t repeat it, but I looked back there’s Willy Juan doing something obscene, and I’m like “That’s not nice, Willy!” And then I realized what he was doing. So, ask him later, I can’t say it in front of mixed company. So…
Dane laughing.
And what he’s doing now isn’t appropriate, so you’re lucky your sitting in front of him.
I am old. I sat behind Jesus in the second grade. He was always getting a hundred percent. I think he was getting outside help, yeah?
Shouldn’t I have copied him? Should I have copied Jesus?
He would have forgiven me, right? Or else that’s all for nothing.
No, I’m older than that. Speaking of Moses, Moses was my locker partner.
So, congratulations, and thank you again for staying here as our hostages, and I’m Dane Allred, you guys have a great night.
More at daneallred.com
Tuesday Jul 18, 2023
Wednesday Nov 17, 2021
Wednesday Nov 17, 2021
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQi1qbm75xU
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCK-Apf2MYA
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Tuesday Feb 16, 2021
Tuesday Feb 16, 2021
Dents in the Van
I used to deliver flowers. It was a great job for someone who needed some extra money but can’t work all day. After school I would run by the flower shop and pick up the deliveries, and after thinking about the best route, I’d be paid to drive around the city, listen to the radio and have happy people greet me when I showed up with flowers.
It really is a cool thing to have people thank you for doing your job. It’s like I sent them the flowers, and everyone is so excited when they get them. It’s not like I paid for them – I’m just the messenger. I guess the saying about don’t shoot the messenger also works in reverse. Why do they thank the messenger?
Well, in the state where I live, people really don’t tip very well. I don’t know why we are so cheap, but this is a complaint I often hear from those who are paid poorly, using the excuse of tips to pay someone way below minimum wage. Waiters, waitresses, or do you call them waitpersons, delivery people like the pizza man, and yes, the flower delivery person are usually short-changed around here. I delivered thousands of beautiful bouquets, and I got tipped once. What was the grand tip? A quarter.
I understand being parsimonious, but a quarter? It was really an insult, and the contradiction here is I think I would rather have not received a tip. I often feel this way about being paid poorly; sometimes I would rather be volunteering my time than receiving a ridiculously low payment for something. Again, it doesn’t seem to make much sense, but that’s the way I feel.
The scariest delivery ever was at a really nice house. This may have been where I got the quarter. I was a little distracted though, since the owners had a Doberman pincer. This dog was very interested in protecting the property, but I usually get along well with dogs. I can proudly say I have never been bit by a strange dog – just my own pets. This dog barked fiercely as I approached the door, and as I rang the doorbell, the Doberman began trying to bite my leg. Now there’s two things that saved me here; I was wearing incredibly tight jeans (it was the 70’s after all), and the dog was trying to bite my thigh. So luckily his teeth just kept slipping off the tight denim, and the owner answered before blood was drawn.
I liked delivering flowers so much that while I did that during my high school years, I applied for the same job when I went to college at another place. Again it really worked well with my schedule. The only problem with this job is the little old lady who owned the flower shop also liked her grandkids to help out. So when I get the job of washing and vacuuming out the van came along to me, guess who gets to come along and help?
The twelve-year old grandson thought it would be great to help clean the van, but I wasn’t very excited to be baby-sitting. There really wasn’t anything he could do to help, which gave him a little time to hatch a plan. While he watched me wash the outside, he decided it would be a really good idea to let him pull the van up to the vacuums.
When I finished the wash, I opened the door and saw him sitting in the driver’s seat. He begged me to let him pull the van up to the vacuums. So here’s the choice; I can tell him no, and he complains to his grandma, or I let him drive 15 feet and make him ecstatic.
Now, I should have remembered at this point something that happened to me when I was a junior in high school. At a summer workshop, I ran out of gas, and I had my girlfriend drive as we pushed the truck up to the pumps. We were actually going pretty fast when we got to the station, and she was pulling on the wrong side of the pump. So as I gave her directions, she ended up plowing right into the gas pump. We were lucky there wasn’t a giant fire – it just knocked the pump off the foundation. Whose insurance jumped the next quarter, even though he wasn’t driving at the time of the accident? You guessed it.
But I guess I chose to forget this earlier lesson; I let him drive up to the vacuums. And don’t ask me how he did it, but he pulled too close to the vacuums, which were on the passenger side. He didn’t slow down, and he didn’t stop when the crunching started.
One giant gash in the side door later, I had another choice.
I told the old lady I did it.
The kid never even blinked an eyelash.
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Monday Feb 15, 2021
Monday Feb 15, 2021
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZSrD3TZqRw
The Plodder’s Mile
by Dane Allred
CHAPTER ONE
Tommy loomed over the bank teller; a giant compared to any other customer Judy had helped that day.
He was taller than anyone she had seen in a month or two, yet the innocent eyes and gentle demeanor softened the effect. Tommy looked like a big teddy bear, waiting for a hug, but today he stood filling the teller’s window with his massive frame. He held a note in his hand, and though he handed it to Judy without hesitation, the writing belied the intent of the transaction.
Judy had worked for the bank for several years now, putting her husband through college and waiting for the day when she could quit, follow him to his next chapter in life and… Do what? Probably get work at another bank, have children, build a home and settle into married life.
As she mechanically went through the motions of each day’s work, Judy didn’t really engage the mental powers of her business degree and didn’t invest much emotion in the performance of her job. She wanted the paycheck and wondered at times if this was all there really was to life. She read the note, and her life changed in an instant.
Tommy pushed back a shock of blond hair. He didn’t really understand what was going on, and had pushed the note to the teller under orders from Ray, his new best friend. Tommy usually did what other people told him to do, not thinking through the consequences. This gentle giant had been placed in state care early in his life by parents who couldn’t feed or care for someone with his needs. The state then placed him in several institutions trying to find the right fit for a massive man-child who wanted nothing more than to please. Ray had found the combination of trusting child-like passivity and Tommy’s massive frame irresistible as a partner in crime.
If Ray could only get Tommy to just pass the note without speaking.
Tommy spoke. “We’re going riding on a train.”
Judy looked up with fear in her eyes, never expecting this to happen to her, never expecting a man like Tommy to do something like this in a place so well protected with guards, cameras and secret alarms. She looked down at the note again. “Go to the vault and bring out one large package of 100-dollar bills. A gun is pointed at you to make sure you don’t cause no trouble.”
Judy looked at Tommy, and he looked blankly back.
She did a quick survey of the lobby, and there against the wall under one of the cameras was a short dirty looking man. He was looking directly into her eyes and seemed to be poking the pocket of his jacket toward her. She glanced at the jacket, assumed there was a gun, and the man under the camera slowly shook his head up and down. Judy looked back at Tommy.
“We’re going on the train to Rockwood. Have you ever been to Rockwood?”
Judy was at once terrified and mystified. The giant in front of her was unaware of her agitation, but the man with the gun knew she faced a decision. One large package of 100-dollar bills meant the hundred thousand pack most banks receive from the federal reserve. She took a deep breath and tried to remember what she had been trained to do in this situation. She glanced once more at the pocketed gun and then slowly went to the safe.
Judy’s teller training had included several responses to just such an attempted robbery. She was to push the silent alarm button under her desk, or if prompted to go to the safe, to push the notification button in there. No alarms would sound, but the management would receive notification, and the guards would be put on alert.
Bank officials rarely lost any cash in robberies, and most companies worried about personal injury and the death of spectators, employees, or criminals more than the cash. The money that was lost was insured and could be replaced, but a life couldn’t be brought back. With the advanced technology available, robberies were usually a failure. Face recognition software, bank cameras, street cameras, and an alerted staff were usually all that was necessary for recovery of the cash.
But Judy was still unnerved. A threat had been made against her life, and the threat of the huge man at her window only drove the point home. She followed protocol and walked to the safe, pushed the button, grabbed the heavy package and walked back to the window.
Judy handed Tommy the money. She held it with both hands and placed it in his massive right hand. He palmed the package like a ball and tossed it up in the air. A thousand one hundred-dollar bills. The brown paper wrapping had official markings, but Tommy wasn’t impressed. He looked at Judy and only said one word.
“Football.”
One foot plodded after the other as the endless railroad ties passed under John Graham’s feet. The man whose breath cut a jagged path behind him as his feet thumped the ground liked to think of this type of running as plodding. Not really running, or even jogging, but more simply plodding along. He had even developed a name for this pace. He called it the plodder’s mile. One foot in front of the other. Plod on, mighty exercise king. Keep plodding and imagine that it is running and tell everyone else it is jogging. But to yourself, never be ashamed to plod along this path. One foot, and then another.
Plodding along on the west side of town was always good for reducing stress, and John Graham liked the railroad tracks. He always thought back to the days of running through tires for the one year he played football, although the team probably didn’t really use tires, but was just a cultural imprint from all those football movies he had watched. Bill-paying stress was one of the usual causes of jogging on the tracks, and at least once a month out came the “plodding” shoes. He and his wife Reba had just finished the “you spend too much money” discussion which usually followed the monthly bill payment routine. Heated discussion. Argument. Battle. World War III. Funny how the person doing the accusing always said the other person spent too much, which was answered with, “No, you spend too much.”
Both of which were probably true. As a high school drama teacher, the money wasn’t bad now after 20 years, unless they had to live on only that money, which they didn’t. Reba was a high school administrator, and although they had spent the last 25 years wondering where all the money went, there was never enough even when they were making six figures between them. With part-time work, selling things on E-bay and extracurricular pay, they really didn’t have anything to complain about. But they both still complained. Loudly. Once a month.
It was probably a good thing they were only paid once at the end of the month, since this tended to limit the argument to the first few days of the next month. The rest of the time was spent in a truce where they both waited for the final days before payday, reconnoitering on just how to spend some of the money on an absolutely necessary item to which the other spouse could not possibly object. There were good days, and bad ones, and bad months, (especially August) but most of the other 365 days were spent monitoring each other’s borders like North and South Korea, waiting for an infraction.
“There’s no more money in the account,” had been one of his last salvos, which was followed by a broad shot by Reba, “Why do you keep writing checks when you say there is no money in the account?”
The strategy board after all these years now included five different checking or savings accounts – more places to hide money. They both had plenty, and there was no argument about the fact that there was plenty to go around. The war was only about “where does it all go”?
John crossed over the river and looked out at the fields which were white with the new snow. It had melted some as the afternoon snow had turned to rain, and the slush left in the fields looked like a freshly cut white alfalfa crop ready to winnow and then bale. The air was crisp and the temperature just right, cold enough to balance the heat created as he plodded along wondering why he felt so crummy. He really didn’t have anything to complain about, and if money was the biggest problem they faced this year, it would be a good year indeed. Breathing in the frosty air, John thought back ten years as he was sitting at Reba’s bedside in the hospital, where he had been telling her to keep breathing, to wake up, keep breathing and keep trying.
The cancer treatments and the pain medications had left her numb in the fingers and toes, but ten years out she was still “free and clear” of any recurring cancer. But those days back in the hospital had changed him forever, even to the point of welcoming her restless tossing and turning at night which kept him awake while she slept. Better to be kept awake by tossing and turning than sleeping alone. He was grateful to still have his wife and the mother of his children around.
So why the discontent? He looked at a perfectly contented horse eating out of a trough at the side of a field. As he jogged past, he noticed the light rain had again turned to snow. The back of the horse was steaming while the snow fell slowly. The horse’s dark coat contrasted with the light of the snow on its back helped him to summarize this train of thought — while there is life, there is opposition — and that’s what makes life worth living.
Even the exercise of jogging opposed the sensible idea of sitting in the house while the snow fell fed the thoughts of opposition. Gravity and weight versus the muscles, which would undoubtedly be sore tomorrow, would produce better health and flexibility. If the literature was to be believed, and John actually kept running during the year, and he completed a fourth marathon, his risks of heart attack would decrease over the next five years. But there was always the uncertainty. Jog on the railroad tracks, get lost in your thoughts, get hit by a train, and all that exercise was for nothing. He thought of a bumper sticker. “The light at the end of the tunnel is from the oncoming train.”
Which made John realize there was a train in the distance, and if he wanted the benefits of this particular cardio-vascular exercise, he would have to get off the tracks for a couple of minutes. He turned aside at another bridge and went under the tracks, jogging comfortably on a running trail which ran by the river. There was a water fountain at a park just half a mile ahead, and then, after a long cold drink, it would be time to jog back home.
Wednesday Jan 06, 2021
Wednesday Jan 06, 2021
On YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-N-SND5IORg
Orson Welles (1915 –1985)
Considered one of the greatest filmmakers of all time, his radio production of The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells brought him instant fame. Known as an American actor, director, screenwriter and producer, one of his most famous movies is Citizen Kane.
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Sunday Jan 03, 2021
Sunday Jan 03, 2021
Work
As we work side by side
Trying to get back to that Bright Space
We all shared
We organize ourselves to do our best
We try to experience all there is
So when we go back we will know all there is to know.
I circle in my sphere
Completing my tasks
And you complete yours
While circling in your sphere
And sometimes our paths cross
When we meet in this way we find we are doing the same work
Working in our own way
But accomplishing the same thing.
We recognize that Brightness for a moment
And remember that we must remember all of this
So when we are together again
We can share all that we have learned.
You must do those things you are to do.
I have my list as well.
But unknown to us is how our works
Will complement each other
When all is done that must be done.
You and I will have many stories to share
And we will remember the time our spheres connected
For a moment
And we recalled the Bright Space
That Bright Space we left to be here on our own
When all we had ever known was being together.
We came here to find out what we could never know together
And will return to share
And again we will be all there ever was, ever is, or ever will be.
Pay attention to those moments when our worlds coalesce
Remember that Bright Place which still connects us.
And then we will go our separate ways again.
You work in your place
I work in mine
But the work is important
It all works together even though it seems random
It might seem unimportant
It is the most important thing we can do.
Though there seems no order in what we do
Though chaos seems to dominate all we see
Our plan to find out all we ever could
Brings us closer to being together in that Bright Space again.
Thursday Jan 02, 2020
Thursday Jan 02, 2020
The Two Wolves
by Dane Allred
Grandfather told me, “There are two wolves living inside me.
One is good, and the other evil.
One is loving, friendly, even-tempered.
The other hateful, isolated, unstable.
The good wolf is happy, energetic, positive.
The evil wolf is sad, listless, negative.
Hopeful, forgiving, cheerful is the good wolf,
Hopeless, implacable, morose is the evil wolf.
One is calm, composed, serene.
The other worried, unbalanced, troubled.
They are so different, but both live within me.
Only one can survive.”
I asked grandfather which one will win.
He said, “Before I tell you this,
You must know these wolves live in me, and also in you.
They live in everyone.”
“But, grandfather, which one will win?
Which one will be victorious?”
Grandfather said, “You are right.
The good and evil wolf
Cannot both survive.”
Grandfather placed his hand upon my chest
Know this, there is a good wolf and an evil wolf within you.
The one who will survive
Is the one you feed.”