Laughter

I’m a very funny guy. Well, maybe not right this minute; don’t put me on the spot like that. But generally, I can make ‘em laugh. And I can’t say I like it: after fifty or so years in this like, I am habitually able to make a joke out of most anything. Maybe not a joke: not all instances of humor are jokes, per se. (I can also make a tedious pedantic bit of nitpicking out of anything.) And I see others around me doing the same sort of thing, cutting up like they were characters on “The Ted Knight Show” or “Two Point Five Men”. Of course, I work at a church which is a gold mine for those in search of humorous material: cancer, mental illness, grief, doubt, death, all that good stuff. But, after all, I am starting to think, isn’t there a time and a place for sobriety? Can we please be serious for a moment? Then I think of the parable of the three pieces of rope. “I’m a frayed knot.”

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