Like daily exercise, a balanced diet and stress management, there are other things we would be wise to include in our regular routines. Last evening as we sat on the deck in admiration of another late spring/early summer sunset we discussed, among other vitally important topics, humor.
As in laughter and as in making the heaviness that surrounds us a little lighter, however briefly. There is nothing that beats a deep belly laugh. It is therapy of the highest magnitude. It reminds us that our attitudes are always just a joke away from repair. It allows us to laugh at ourselves and the ridiculous situations and circumstances we have created. Jimmy Buffet nailed it with ‘if we couldn’t laugh we would all go insane.’ That said, let me repeat for the umpteenth time, in the chance that its simplicity hides some deeper paradoxical irony, is grossly misunderstood and therefore feared, that:
COMEDY IS HARD.
Further, if I had a dime for every joke that failed, quip that fell flat on its face or punch line awkwardly delivered, I would be sailing my yacht right now in the Med. Still the idea, despite all previous failures, lessons learned and tomatoes tossed, that the show must go on, keeps me working towards improvement. Because I think it is important. We need to laugh. More. Lot’s more. I think being child-like is pure, being amazed by what is left of our natural world and learning the lessons of love, both the silly and the sublime. There is compassion in sharing the giggle. There is community and solidarity in the brotherhood of the inside joke. Even Sasquatch rolls on the forest floor in laughter.
Humor, at its most basic, is poking fun at ourselves. This can be risky especially when so many are deluded with narcissistic images of self-worth. The fledgling comedian must be wary and know her audience. Overly sensitive types do not respond well to criticisms or satire. If there is one thing I have learned from the countless hours spent on the stage wielding the most dangerous weapon of war ever created, the microphone, it is that you don’t make fat jokes at weight watchers conventions. UNLESS YOU CAN. If you can find that rare combination of sincerity, honesty, courage and content and direct your razor sharp spear with perfect timing and inflection you might be able to pull it off. I will caution you to be very careful with this. It can go wrong. In a big way.
But, as The Bard noted, therein lies the rub. That is the risk we take, because if successful the rewards are monumental. If your audience, and that is a big if, ‘gets it’ the payoff is profound. Should they not ‘get it’ you are doomed and now stand on trial for crossing the indivisible line of proper decorum, sensitivity and political correctness. All meaning of course that you must now do the one thing that all self-respecting comedians (or simply well-meaning friends) fear more than slow, painful torture and eventual deaths, and apologize.
Just kidding.
Oddly I started out this piece wanting to review, as part of the periodic rotation mentioned in the open, a powerful list of goals put forth by Don Miguel Ruiz called The Four Agreements. They are:
1) Be impeccable with your word.
2) Never take anything personally. (This was my launching pad to humor btw)
3) Don’t make assumptions.
4) Do your best.
These not only hit the ball out of the park they do so with the bases loaded. Dynamite stuff these agreements, words, as the saying goes, to live by.
Being a sensitive type, subject to the nuance of social communication, it is important, I submit, that we add a parenthetical note to Don Ruiz’s altruistic agreements. Yes, I 100% agree with every one of the four, yet feel that a cautionary asterisk might be appropriate to remind us that…
* Comedy is hard.
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