Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Take Two Henny Youngmans and Call Me In The Morning

I am a strong believer in humor. I believe it heals us with the positive energy it exudes. I mean think about it when you laugh is there any negative energy flowing through you at that moment? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they found that the true cure for cancer, AIDS, Parkinson’s disease and a plethora of other diseases was pure unadulterated laughter? Then as much as I despise clowns I would sing “Send In the Clowns”.

My daddy recently sent me a wonderful book by a psychologist and motivational speaker about how humor played a role in his coping with his father’s cancer. The name of the book is “Don’t Let The Gerosofers Bite” by Bob Basso. It is a wonderful story of a man who has a very close relationship with his father. His father is a retired New York City firefighter has Parkinson’s disease and then finds out he has colon-rectal cancer. Mr. Basso chronicled the progression and finally the culmination of his father’s illness. Oh don’t think this is a sad book that makes you cry more than “Love Story” with that poor pitiful Ali McGraw looking all hang dog and saying stupid things like “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” What a bunch of crap that is. Love means always saying you’re sorry even when you don’t know for what you’re being sorry. It isn’t even a guy type sad book like “Brian’s Song” where every male member of my family instantly came down with allergies when Gayle Sayers is telling about Brian Piccolo at the awards dinner. His book is instead full of fart tapes and men dressed in drag imitating Milton Burl.

Read more about it here:http://www.wordwiz72.com/grsfrs.html

Mr. Basso reminded me that we should drag our humor out of the closet and dust it off and put it on so everyone can see it. We need to lighten up and laugh more. We need to be unafraid to get silly whether it’s in the office or in the home but most importantly when we see those Gerosofers out there on the wing waiting to drag us into depression, self doubt or despair.
That brings me to this question. What comedic style would you say you are most like? Are you a Robin Williams, who bounces here and there? Are you a Steven Wright with complete and total dead pan humor? Maybe you’re a Tracy Morgan or God help us all a Carrot Top. Are you Monty Python funny or Saturday Night Life? Are you Chevy Chase or Carol Burnette? I’ve decided my daddy is more of a Bob Newhart type comic and me well I would be more of a Gilda Radnor type. I even have the hair.


Girly Stuff said...

I like to think I'm funny, but I'm pretty sure I'm my biggest fan. My brother says I amuse myself.

So I don't know who I'm like. But I know the day I stop laughing and kidding around is the day Girly Stuff ceases to exist. It's just who I am. It's how I roll.

Becky said...

Thank you for wandering by my blog and posting there. I am better, my "empty nest" blues usually last a couple of days. I had a day off today (well, other than going to the oral surgeon). Tomorrow I get to work all day and then half a day Friday and maybe even Saturday. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

But truly, thanks again for your kind comments on my blog.

Anonymous said...

You are right on, Gilda. I crack myself up all the time, whether people laugh with me, at me, or not at all.

We've never even met and yet we "get" each other's humor and way of looking at things. Life is too short not to schnarffle milk out of your nose once in a while because someone cracks you up. Sometimes i just schnarffle anyways.

Anonymous said...

By the way, I LOVE the title of this post!