What is there about humor that is so funny? What makes us laugh? Is it the unexpected twist at the end of a joke? A good science fiction story always has an unexpected outcome, and I don’t laugh when I read science fiction. Is there something we like about being broadsided? If I’m walking down a dark alley, I don’t want to be hit alongside the head with a two-by-four. And yet, I do enjoy the end of a good joke or story, especially if the twist is unexpected.
At what point does it translate to real life? What if my life took a twist? What would happen if I woke up some morning in Calcutta to find that I am a cigar merchant, married to a Russian who doesn’t speak English, and the last thirty years were only a wonderful dream?
Wait, I’m confused. I thought I lived in Oregon. What am I doing here in Calcutta? Are these my children? Why is my wife’s name Olga? Why are these cigars in my briefcase? Oh, I remember, I sell these things from my sidewalk kiosk.
It would be a twist, but certainly not enjoyable. I definitely would not laugh. Of course, if I did live in India I would not speak English, so in that respect it might be ok.
There is something in the human psyche that thrives on the unexpected. Some of us like it more than others. I tend to not like it. I enjoy each day the same; wearing decent clothes to the office; getting coffee on the way; sitting at the same desk, and so on. I like the predictability.
However, Lin is not that way. She likes change, and thrives on the unusual, as long as it is not disaster related. She would be thrilled to have an unexpected trip forced on her schedule.
Me: “I’m sorry honey, but instead of going to work today, I’m taking you on a road trip to Tibet where we can learn how to milk yaks.
Lin: “I’m so happy that you took the initiative to think of something different and out of the ordinary. What other adventures can we experience on this joyous day?”
However, let’s get back to the “twist,” that broadside at the end of a joke that triggers belly laughs, or perhaps a feeling that you have been bamboozled. If you watch comedians, you soon learn that they are Masters in the art of knowing that perfect length of time to wait between the story and the punch line. They know just how to drop it on the audience for maximum impact. I think we can learn from them.
I have also noticed that it is not just the punch line. It is also the buildup. My late Uncle Howard had the ability to string out a story and have the listeners literally on the edge of their seats for what must have been ten or fifteen minutes. My most vivid memory is how stupid I felt when he finally broadsided us with the ending twist. I got so I knew when that final blow was coming, because there was a certain way he licked his lips before the punch line. I can still see those thin lips; chapped, with a tongue that caressed slowly across his mouth like a python kissing a mouse before devouring it. He made me feel like that mouse.
Did you ever notice how small children like scary stories? A scary story is like the punch line that never stops. The scarier the better and the good ones make you wet your pants and have nightmares. Heaven knows why the kids like it. We did not have that tradition when our children were small. We read good stories and played nice games. Except, of course the kid’s favorite game, where they would get on the bed with the monster (Lin) under the bed. The monster would try to grab them. I have never heard such screaming in my life. I think our adult children must still have dreams about that. That tells me that in our brains there is a fine line between being scared out of our wits and hearing a good joke. Maybe our brain gets the two mixed up sometimes, kind of like pain and pleasure. So I ask you, within the bounds of common decency, what is your greatest pain (pleasure) memory?
At what point does it translate to real life? What if my life took a twist? What would happen if I woke up some morning in Calcutta to find that I am a cigar merchant, married to a Russian who doesn’t speak English, and the last thirty years were only a wonderful dream?
Wait, I’m confused. I thought I lived in Oregon. What am I doing here in Calcutta? Are these my children? Why is my wife’s name Olga? Why are these cigars in my briefcase? Oh, I remember, I sell these things from my sidewalk kiosk.
It would be a twist, but certainly not enjoyable. I definitely would not laugh. Of course, if I did live in India I would not speak English, so in that respect it might be ok.
There is something in the human psyche that thrives on the unexpected. Some of us like it more than others. I tend to not like it. I enjoy each day the same; wearing decent clothes to the office; getting coffee on the way; sitting at the same desk, and so on. I like the predictability.
However, Lin is not that way. She likes change, and thrives on the unusual, as long as it is not disaster related. She would be thrilled to have an unexpected trip forced on her schedule.
Me: “I’m sorry honey, but instead of going to work today, I’m taking you on a road trip to Tibet where we can learn how to milk yaks.
Lin: “I’m so happy that you took the initiative to think of something different and out of the ordinary. What other adventures can we experience on this joyous day?”
However, let’s get back to the “twist,” that broadside at the end of a joke that triggers belly laughs, or perhaps a feeling that you have been bamboozled. If you watch comedians, you soon learn that they are Masters in the art of knowing that perfect length of time to wait between the story and the punch line. They know just how to drop it on the audience for maximum impact. I think we can learn from them.
I have also noticed that it is not just the punch line. It is also the buildup. My late Uncle Howard had the ability to string out a story and have the listeners literally on the edge of their seats for what must have been ten or fifteen minutes. My most vivid memory is how stupid I felt when he finally broadsided us with the ending twist. I got so I knew when that final blow was coming, because there was a certain way he licked his lips before the punch line. I can still see those thin lips; chapped, with a tongue that caressed slowly across his mouth like a python kissing a mouse before devouring it. He made me feel like that mouse.
Did you ever notice how small children like scary stories? A scary story is like the punch line that never stops. The scarier the better and the good ones make you wet your pants and have nightmares. Heaven knows why the kids like it. We did not have that tradition when our children were small. We read good stories and played nice games. Except, of course the kid’s favorite game, where they would get on the bed with the monster (Lin) under the bed. The monster would try to grab them. I have never heard such screaming in my life. I think our adult children must still have dreams about that. That tells me that in our brains there is a fine line between being scared out of our wits and hearing a good joke. Maybe our brain gets the two mixed up sometimes, kind of like pain and pleasure. So I ask you, within the bounds of common decency, what is your greatest pain (pleasure) memory?
4 comments:
Thanks for a very pleasant read. I was blogging merrily along, and stopped at 'Hunger is good'.
Your blog demonstrates that essayists are alive and well in our day and age.
Bonitatem fecisti!
I think this may be my favorite post yet- I laughed the whole way through!
Exercise is a pain/pleasure experience for me. It always feels good to exercise, but it is never completely enjoyable.
Hmm. Humor and fear. I think the line is fine, and sometime it crosses. After all, what is nervous laughter?
And thank you for making me picture Uncle Howard as a serpentine villain! He always seemed so tame before.
Yes, the thrill of almost being pulled under the bed by the monster, only to be saved by the valiant efforts of siblings, pulling with all their might amid great hysteria and screams, and then tempting the monster once more with the dangle of arm or leg.
Yet, none of them grew up doing other risky behavior like drugs, sex, or alcohol, or extreme sports?
Maybe the best adventure is within the boundaries of good judgment and common sense! Lin
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