No one really expects to hear or wants to hear these kinds of answers: “Well, my back is killing me. I’ve got an awful headache. My digestive tract is giving me fits.”

If you asked me today, “How are you?” — and you caught me in the right moment, I just might give you a dose of the harsh truth.

I might respond with, “My arthritis is killing me. (An old buddy has reminded me that “Arthur always was the worst o’ them Ritus boys!”) My knees are shot. My plantar fasciitis is exquisitely miserable.”

“BYU football expectations of success are low. My car insurance company is monitoring my driving with a ‘Big Brother’ device installed in my vehicle. (The representation is that it will make me a safer driver and will save me money on my policy.) I could go on, but that’s kind of how I am!” (Watch for possible future columns on any or all of those situations I’m living with at this stage of life.)

But, alas, I don’t normally answer with that kind of brutal honesty. So, don’t be afraid to ask me how I’m doing.

Usually I like to give a bit of an unconventional answer to the conventional question of “How are you?”

My answers are usually just for the fun of it. I notice there are others who do the same thing.

It’s especially effective for starting conversations with people, whether you know them or not. So, if you don’t want any conversation, it’s best to stick with a conventional answer.

I heard this answer from someone a while back, which I liked. The question: “How are you?” The reply: “I’d say I was a little better than perfect, but I’d be lying.”

Some of my responses are: “I’m twice as good as half,” or “I’m fine as frog’s hair and twice as slick,” and “If I were any better, I’d be twins.”

The response that I use most often though is, “Things could be worse.” That one often seems to catch people off-balance. Many misunderstand and think I’m saying that things are bad.

I explain that if things could be worse that I’m actually doing quite well. We end up having a little conversation and agree that even though things could be better, we really are doing all right and that life could be a heck of a lot worse.

We have a children’s book that demonstrates this principle. Like many of you, we have quite a little library of children’s picture books at our house. They are so much fun and they almost always teach a good value or moral. A children’s book is sometimes the right length and is convenient to carry into a bathroom. (If you know what I mean.)

I’ll briefly give you the gist of the story called “It’s Too Noisy” by Joanna Cole. (1989 – Weekly Reader Books) A farmer and his wife, a bunch of kids, including a baby, and a set of grandparents live in a little house. The farmer wants peace and quiet. There is too much noise.

He goes to a wise man to get help. The wise man tells him to bring his rooster and chickens into the house with the family. This sounds strange to the farmer, but he does it anyway. The noise and problems become worse!

He goes to the wise man repeatedly and gets advice each time to bring more animals from the farm into his house. (Children’s books are often set up in this successive step-by-step method of story telling.)

When the farmer can no longer stand it, the wise man tells him to get rid of all the animals that he brought into the house. Now with only the original household members under the roof, it seems so quiet. The farmer is content. He learned that things could be worse.

In the same vein, I’m reminded of a scene from the old (1974), comedy movie, “Young Frankenstein.” I think it’s Mel Brook’s best spoof movie.

In the scene, Dr. Frankenstein and Igor (Gene Wilder and Marty Feldman – R.I.P.) are in the graveyard digging.

The doctor complains “What a filthy job!” Igor responds, “Things could be worse.” “How?” the doctor asks. Igor’s cheerful response, “It could be raining,”

Of course, immediately lightning flashes, thunder crashes, and a downpour begins.

We’ve all heard the motto: “Cheer up things could be worse. So, I cheered up and sure enough; things got worse!”

Most of us have relatively decent situations in life. Our necessities are met and we enjoy many luxuries. There are many on the planet that struggle to obtain what we take for granted.

Is it healthy to compare ourselves to those who are less fortunate; by saying, “things could be worse?” Would it be better to compare ourselves with those who have it much better than we do, by saying “things could be better?”

I take a very strong, opinionated stand on this question. I stand firmly right in the middle. I say that we need to look both ways.

Let’s attempt improvement in our lives by recognizing that things can be better. But let’s not let that recognition make us unhappy. We can find a happy degree of contentment in our lives by knowing that we’re blessed and that things truly could be worse. — Merrill