They say that those who approach life with humor live happier, healthier, longer lives. Does that apply to those who have a jovial demeanor but whose jokes have a...shall we say inconsistent...quality?
The time when my lovely wife Linda was most worried about my well-being was when I stopped telling jokes. We were living among the poor overseas, the challenges were unbelievably difficult, and I got so focused on just trying to suvive that the puns, word plays, and self-deprecation ground to a halt. My teenagers would say that everyone must have rejoiced! But in fact Linda was deeply worried. Perhaps more so than when I got malaria...twice. More than when I got typhoid. More than when I suffered unemployment for a year.
But now I'm making it up as I go along, and Linda is happy, most of the time. The teenagers less so, but I'm not sure what to do about that. Your own kids are a tough crowd, to be sure. A 10 year-old girl in White Plains was overheard scolding her dad for singing out loud. The father? Billy Joel. If the guy who commands $100 per ticket in sold-out stadiums can't please his progeny, what hope do I have? Of course, I love my kids so much that it doesn't matter anyway. And that's no joke!
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