Nothing In This World to Laugh About?
Posted: Friday, September 30, 2011
by Jack H. Schick
I’ve been accused of having no sense of humor. I’ve been told that I’d ruined a well told joke by just staring, or only cracking a smile when others have laughed hysterically. I think it’s an exaggeration, though. I like to think it’s just that my sense of humor is a little more sophisticated than many of them can appreciate. Sometimes, something strikes me as being really, really funny, but then I notice that I’m the only one laughing. The other people just stare at me, then, and ask what’s wrong. In those cases, it’s the other way around. I think they have no senses of humor.
I’ve heard all the old sayings: laughter is the best medicine; it takes fewer facial muscles to smile than to frown, so it’s easier. I’ve read psychologists’ reports that say a good laugh is healthy and an up-beat, humor appreciating outlook will let you live longer. It’s funny, though, how most of the really old people I’ve know have been especially grouchy. Maybe it’s their aches and pains, or self protection due to their growing bewilderment, or their general disdain for younger people (or specifically, me), but a jolly old man is usually the exception. Laughing may have gotten him there, but it ain’t so funny anymore.
I laughed just the other day, though, really laughed. I was loud and flamboyant about it. It was a real side splitter. Tears ran down my face. The neighbor, who was out on his sidewalk having a cigarette, stared at me and got big a big smile on his face. Laughter is contagious, you know—or, maybe he thought I was crazy (actually, he already does). I was laughing so loud my wife heard it and came out of the house to see what was up. She got a concerned look on her face, though. Knowing me as well as she does, she realized that, with my lack of a sense of humor, something was probably wrong.
The evening before I’d noticed a bad oil leak from the engine of my old, beat up economy car that was still on the road only because it got 33 miles to the gallon. “Oh, well, it was only a matter of time till it was headed to the junk yard,” I laughed. “That’s why we have three cars.” I’d just shelled out a few thousand dollars for my school taxes, and couldn’t really afford to buy another car. At least I could drive one of the others until I got back on my feet.
When I headed for work in the morning, I noticed my Jeep, which usually just sits in the driveway until it snows, or I have a hunting trip, had a flat tire—all the way flat. It had been fine the night before when I checked the vehicle over and test started it. “That’s funny,” I thought. “What are the odds of it getting a flat today, the first day I need it in a month?” I had to take my wife’s car. As usual, it was out of gas. I sweated it out but got to the nearest gas station where it siphoned a $50 bill out of my wallet.
When I got home, my wife asked, “Did you put gas in the car? It was getting low.” I laughed, and said I did. She reminded me that she had to have her car the next day. The little economy car was still sitting there leaking oil as a reminder that I really had find another one that got good mileage. Gas had almost tripled in price since I’d gotten it and any 33 mpg one was now way over priced. I’d just have to use the Jeep for awhile, after I changed the tire.
It had been sitting there not being used for so long that stuff rusted. When I tried to remove the flat tire, I broke off a lug bolt. I laughed, and said, to myself, “It’ll be okay, you can drive it with one broken lug bolt.” I sprayed it down with penetrating oil and waited. Before I tried again, I tapped the nut heads with a hammer to try to break them loose. It didn’t matter, on the first try a second lug bolt broke off. I threw the lug wrench down. It flipped the hubcap up into my knee and skidded under the Jeep to where I couldn’t reach it. I booted the hubcap under after it.
My knee smarted but the whole thing suddenly struck me funny I started to laugh uncontrollably. The more I laughed, the funnier it all seemed. I roared. I couldn’t stop. I had to sit down on the curb. That’s when I saw the neighbor watching me. It would peter out for a little while. I forced myself to think about starving children in Africa, or the lonely puppies on the ASPCA commercials, but that only lasted a little while and I’d start laughing again. My wife came out to see what was wrong. “Call Triple A! Have this piece of s--- hauled away!” is all I could say between bouts of laughter.
She took me in the house and sat me down in front of the TV. Since I was in that frame of mind, I put on a cartoon channel. “Scooby-do” can always knock a smile off my face. After a while, I got thinking. Why was I so upset over what, in the broad scheme of things, was trivial? A hundred and fifty years ago, there was no Triple A and I’d have a horse to bury. Some people didn’t even have a car. I had a job and would eventually have the money to buy a new car. Why was I so ungrateful? I calmed down and just sat there staring at the TV.
My wife came in the living room and switched the channel to the national news. I just watched, not saying anything, for almost half an hour. Finally it hit me again. I couldn't help it. I started maniacally laughing again. Not real loud, not flamboyantly like before, just laughing.
“You’re crazy,” she said.
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Top-level comments on this article: (3 total)There are actually lots things we can notice and laugh but most people ignore due to may be the hectic of life that draws their attention.
Try shave and laugh and see whether it works.................Thanks for reading and commenting
Now we are all laughing.Thanks for reading and commenting
You crack me up, Jack! I guess you could say Cracker Jack? LOLThanks for reading and commenting
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