Jokes

Before there was Google, there was Tim Watkins. The Costa Mesa father of two and avid bodysurfer “had the memory of an elephant,” said his ex-wife, Jodi Watkins. It was something family members said they came to depend on for information. “He could tell you what you said 15 years ago, what you were wearing and where you were,” she said. Watkins was killed in a car crash Saturday in Manteca, where he was visiting his father for Thanksgiving. He was 49. Gathered at his house Thursday afternoon, Watkins’ family shared their favorite memories of him and spoke of what made him liked by everyone who met him. “He’ll make friends with the guy standing in front of him in line at the grocery store,” said his sister, Peggy Thompson.

Deepa Bharath Many who knew Tom Connor didn't know him by his real name. They knew him as Yo-yo, the guy who was there at the Costa Mesa Senior Center at 8:30 in the morning to make sure the lunch room was all set and good to go. Yo-yo was not just a guy with a funny name. He was actually funny. He had a different joke every time for anyone who asked him: "Hey Yo-yo, what's with that name?" It wasn't a name that was thrust upon him. He made up the name four years ago, two years after his third wife, Phyllis, died.

The Orange County Restaurant Assn.’s Happy Hour week bar-joke contest’s winners are ... drum roll, please ... John Chapman, C. Howie and William A. O’Conner. Oddly enough, they all have one thing in common: They’re pithy. Punchline: The jokes, that is. “What’s red and smells like blue paint? Red paint.” (from Chapman); “A seal walked into a club...” (Howie); “Two men walk into a bar ... the second guy should have seen it coming.

sutherland featureThat's merely part of what keeps senior tennis companions faithful to their routine doubles matches twice a week.On Tuesday and Thursday mornings -- while college students make their way into lecture halls, professionals head into the workplace and children begin their school day -- 87-year-old Lori Sutherland is just as busy, scrambling to gather athletes together as she has done for the past 10 years. At 8:30 a.m., Sutherland and seven others ranging from 60 to 88 years old play a round-robin of doubles tennis at the Balboa Bay Club Racquet Club.

Young Chang Comedians from Comedy Crusade have gone into prisons and made women laugh. Inmates easily bored have sat through the entertainers' routines. They've laughed hard, perched on the edge of their seats at the Chino Women's Prison. They've also cried hard. The Christian messages in the routines touched them. At times, the messages healed them. Nazareth Rizkallah, president of Costa Mesa-based Comedy Crusade, knows the power of laughter.

Danette Goulet LIDO ISLE - He had an innovative eye for design, a steady hand at the helm and a memory for jokes. After half a century of living on Lido Isle, Herbert E. Riley's passing on April 9 at the age of 87 left many feeling the loss. "Herb was just a great guy," said George Bissell, his friend and business partner of many years. "When I first moved onto the island he was the first person who came around to introduce himself." All those for whom Riley designed a home or office and anyone who took a spin on his yacht while he entertained them with an endless supply of jokes will miss him, Bissell said.

Jeff Benson Pamela Anderson took center stage at Book Soup South Coast Plaza Sunday, signing books, inscribing on posters, writing on people's chests and even inking her own chest on attendees' back issues of Playboy magazine. Growing tired of scribbling her name robotically as she did at least 300 times Sunday, she turned her permanent marker on her friend and associate, Eric Shaw Quinn. "Eric needs some eyeliner," she said, beaming with a girlish giggle.

Elia Powers Howard Minder was a master of situational humor. One time, when he found a toilet sitting in the alley behind his house, Minder asked his neighbor to snap a picture of him sitting on the porcelain seat while reading the newspaper. On another occasion, while he was painting a fence white, he put a coat on a nearby plant and convinced the family that a wild tropical plant was growing in the frontyard. Minder wore Dracula fangs to the dentist and wasn't afraid to tell jokes to large groups.

Paul Salata, the founder of Irrelevant Week, hesitated a bit before naming the biggest celebrity coming to Wednesday's All-Star Lowsman Banquet. As he thought, his daughter, Melanie Salata-Fitch said, "Oh, here it comes. " Salata, acted cool, as he said, "Clay Matthews Sr. " Matthews' son, Clay Jr., the former ironman linebacker of the Cleveland Browns, has also been confirmed for attendance to roast and toast Mr. Irrelevant Cheta Ozougwu of the Houston Texans. It will be a family affair at the banquet at the Newport Beach Marriott Hotel & Spa. Clay Jr.'s son, Casey Matthews, the Oregon product who is now with the Philadelphia Eagles, is also coming to the party.

NEWPORT BEACH — Mr. Irrelevant met the Nigerian Nightmare for the first time. Cheta Ozougwu was just happy to hear his name pronounced correctly by someone other than his Nigerian parents. Christian Okoye said "oh-ZOO-goo" just once. To the former running back for the Kansas City Chiefs, Ozougwu was still Mr. Irrelevant, the last player picked in the NFL Draft. As for any advice for Ozougwu, who will try to make the Houston Texans, Okoye chuckled at first. The laughs started well before a roast of Ozougwu at the All-Star Lowsman Banquet at the Newport Beach Marriott Hotel & Spa on Wednesday.

Dan Huston, a Laguna Beach resident, community advocate and World War II veteran, has died. He was 90. As an active member of the Freedom Committee of Orange County, a group of veterans from World War II and the Korean and Vietnam wars, Huston was a frequent and lively speaker at Laguna and Newport-Mesa Unified schools and community events. He died at Mission Hospital in Laguna Beach on March 15, eight days shy of his 91st birthday and hours before he was scheduled to share his war experiences with students at Corona del Mar high school.

NEWPORT BEACH — Mr. Irrelevant met the Nigerian Nightmare for the first time. Cheta Ozougwu was just happy to hear his name pronounced correctly by someone other than his Nigerian parents. Christian Okoye said "oh-ZOO-goo" just once. To the former running back for the Kansas City Chiefs, Ozougwu was still Mr. Irrelevant, the last player picked in the NFL Draft. As for any advice for Ozougwu, who will try to make the Houston Texans, Okoye chuckled at first. The laughs started well before a roast of Ozougwu at the All-Star Lowsman Banquet at the Newport Beach Marriott Hotel & Spa on Wednesday.

Paul Salata, the founder of Irrelevant Week, hesitated a bit before naming the biggest celebrity coming to Wednesday's All-Star Lowsman Banquet. As he thought, his daughter, Melanie Salata-Fitch said, "Oh, here it comes. " Salata, acted cool, as he said, "Clay Matthews Sr. " Matthews' son, Clay Jr., the former ironman linebacker of the Cleveland Browns, has also been confirmed for attendance to roast and toast Mr. Irrelevant Cheta Ozougwu of the Houston Texans. It will be a family affair at the banquet at the Newport Beach Marriott Hotel & Spa. Clay Jr.'s son, Casey Matthews, the Oregon product who is now with the Philadelphia Eagles, is also coming to the party.

"Wha hoo," said Lucy, our miniature Australian Shepherd, as she walked into the gymnasium-sized room at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago. Lucy spent eight years at RIC, under the direction of medical professionals, helping stroke, spinal cord injury and burn victims in an animal-assisted therapy program. When Lucy entered a room, everyone knew it, as she announced her arrival. I was embarrassed and worked to correct this attention-seeking behavior but it was futile. Lucy's "Wha-hoo" sparked laugher.

COSTA MESA — With elections less than a month away, a police association embroiled in a campaign battle with one Costa Mesa City Council candidate and several city groups negotiating new contracts, public safety workers' day-to-day contributions can get lost in the mix. Enter the Costa Mesa Chamber of Commerce and its annual Public Safety Recognition Barbecue on Thursday, an informal, easy-going two-hour lunch at the Orange County Fairgrounds...

NEWPORT BEACH — Clad in a Hawaiian print shirt, opaque sunglasses and an eclectic mix of turquoise beaded bracelets, Costa Mesa resident Eric Rankin epitomizes the 1960s surf culture look. It's even more so when he stands next to his teal-blue Volkswagen van, with its palm tree curtains and peace symbol positioned between the headlights. Rankin is the keyboardist for the Orange County surf rock cover band, The Hodaddies. He, along with two other locals from Newport Beach and Tustin, formed the group about five years ago. But he doesn't call himself a real musician.

When World War II utility boat Old No. 9 finally went to dry dock in 2002, it’s understandable if you thought it would never be heard from again. After all, through its 61-year history, Old No. 9 had gone through face lifts, modifications and changed countless hands as it aged, each owner telling themselves they’ll fix it up. And each time, Old No. 9 was passed on to someone else. Passed along to someone else, that is, until it was steered into John Matthews’ capable hands with the Boy Scouts of America’s Sea Scouts base in Newport Beach.

Before there was Google, there was Tim Watkins. The Costa Mesa father of two and avid bodysurfer “had the memory of an elephant,” said his ex-wife, Jodi Watkins. It was something family members said they came to depend on for information. “He could tell you what you said 15 years ago, what you were wearing and where you were,” she said. Watkins was killed in a car crash Saturday in Manteca, where he was visiting his father for Thanksgiving. He was 49. Gathered at his house Thursday afternoon, Watkins’ family shared their favorite memories of him and spoke of what made him liked by everyone who met him. “He’ll make friends with the guy standing in front of him in line at the grocery store,” said his sister, Peggy Thompson.

He walked into court like it was just another day. Other than the jingling of his shackles, nothing in Costa Mesa-native and white supremacist Billy Joe Johnson’s appearance — an untucked, wrinkled dress shirt and blue pants — or demeanor — joking with his lawyer and the prosecutor — indicated that he was about to be sentenced to death. “A lot of people say it and are full of it, but Billy Joe just doesn’t care,” said his attorney, Michael Molfetta.

Irrelevant Week, the weeklong party in its 34th year, celebrates the underdog, the last pick of the NFL Draft. Yet also much of the hoopla includes a great deal of playfully roasting Mr. Irrelevant. The jokes will come easy this year and it’s not because the Kansas City Chiefs used their final pick, No. 256 of the draft, to take a kicker from the University of South Carolina, home of the Gamecocks. The comedy is actually in the kicker’s name. He’s Ryan Succop, pronounced, “Suck-up.