This may seem like a silly thing to say, because I assume most people like laughter. Unless you’re evil. Or a librarian. But for me, laughter has always been an integral part of my life. In baseball you “walk it off,” in my game of life you “laugh it off.” As a child, the second my head banged against the ceiling while on my dad’s shoulders, I was taught to just laugh. As a camp counselor, when a chubby camper finally finished assembling all of her rollerblade safety gear just to fall completely flat on her face, I of course laughed at… I mean, with (well, I tried to show blubber the humor) her. My happiest moments in life, involve laughter. As I mentioned in a previous post, sometimes I would laugh so hard I would pee my pants (past the age where it was considered acceptable social behavior). You’ve heard of tears of joy? Well, I had pee of joy. And with my best friends from high school, we’ll remark about how often we laugh when we are together. At least 6,000 giggles a day.
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I remember watching SNL with my father and wanting him to laugh. I would look at him earnestly, hoping that when I called him over to watch with me, the show was funny. He would laugh and then I would too, even if I didn’t understand the joke. If he didn’t find whatever I was showing him to be comical, I would feel disappointed. Similarly, if I recommend a hilarious show, such as “Broad City,” to one of my friends and she comes back and tells me it’s not that funny I will take personal offense; you know who you are. Now, as a writer, I love to hear that I’m funny. If you told me I looked like someone pasted an ass on a neck but then followed it with “but you are hilarious,” I would be elated. My ultimate thrill on any television show that I work on is to make the showrunner (the top creative guy) laugh. Cause these guys make funny so they know funny.
So in three days, when I’m feeling super low, just tell me I make you laugh. It will make the “you’re thirty” blow easier to take.