December 17, 2005
Bless my old friends who still laugh at my jokes, imperfect timing and all.
Recently, I had the complete and utter joy of spending a very, long evening with some old and dear high school friends, Jane and Steve, Harvey and Liz, Bill and Connie, Janet, Ann, Steve, and Paula and Roger.
We had this chance because one classmate, Jane, and her husband, Steve, came to Kansas City for a Christmas vacation and a mini-reunion with old classmates living in the area.
To all these friends, I remain eternally grateful, because they still laugh at my lame jokes!
For instance, Steve nearly cracked up laughing at my story of how my husband goes through the trash to save things that are, in his opinion, still too good to pitch.
All I said was, “That’s OK, if I really want to throw something away for good so he cannot find it, I just take it to the bin at McDonald’s!”
Steve said, “Now, that is funny, but isn’t that illegal?”
As I said, “Bless my friends.”
Comedians are better at delivering punch lines. I used to be.
These days, however, I can count on one hand the times I deliver a great line, the perfect rejoinder, or a brilliant, witty remark.
The rest of the time, I figure out exactly the right thing to say about two hours later.
Sometimes, it may take me two days.
Ray Romano of television sitcom fame, however, can dazzle us with a quick joke that is sure to get a laugh. Ray quips effortlessly, “Whenever I get down about life going by too quickly, what helps me is a little mantra that I repeat to myself--at least I’m not a fruit fly.”
Likewise, Erma Bombeck was a master of delivery giving the perfect punch line with impeccable timing. Once on a late-night talk show, she was asked if she snow skied. “No,” Erma said, “I do not participate in any sport that has ambulances at the bottom of the hill.”
As an aging Baby Boomer, I completely get that.
The perfect delivery of a monologue by an experienced comedian invariably catches us by surprise.
Whatever comedians do, one thing is certain—their timing is everything!
And as my friends and I told our life stories, no laughing matters, we discovered we had not lost our good humor and resilience.
We joked about arthritis, bad knees, and weight-gain.
Then, the subject turned to the fact that, although indestructible Baby Boomers, we are beginning, at long last, to recognize our own mortality.
Then, it came to me—the perfect line.
I remembered (in itself a victory) Woody Allen’s classic comment on the subject:
“It’s not that I’m afraid to die, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”
In one perfect cosmic moment in time, I finally said it—the perfect punch line!
Applause. Applause.
