Jokes in My Pocket

I would describe myself as, at best, a part-time humorist. While I like to write funny, and people seem to enjoy the funny I write, I tend not to THINK funny, at least 24/7.  Now, I know some masters of the comedy genre can mine yuks aplenty, even from topics like relatives’ funerals and epic climate disasters. For me, though, it’s the flip of a switch: I’m sad (serious piece); I’m happy (fun piece)--and rarely the twain shall meet.

That means I cannot keep up with the humor-writing machines of my acquaintance. I did a comedy writing sprint, and within a week I was exhibiting all the symptoms that I’d suffered from during my brief, ill-fated quest to run a 5K. I was dizzy, I was nauseated. Most of all, I was the exact opposite of a laugh riot. I’ll spare you my list of “hilarious” piece titles because honestly? I’ve deleted them from both my computer and my brain.

I had coffee with a very funny writer the other day, who shared that he keeps a notebook with him, in which he aims to write 10 jokes per day. 10. Jokes. Per. Day. I cannot conceive of such comedic bounty! To reach 10, I’d have to write Third Grade Jokes. For those who don’t recall that banner year, third graders LOVE Mad Libs. Aiden has insisted on a family session after dinner every night recently, and falls off his chair when the hysterical results are read: “After we finished our nostril (noun), it was time to take a fuzzy (adjective) nap.” Sides splitting yet?

Gary Gulman, one of my favorite comedians, shared 365 comedy tips online, a year’s worth. Super generous of him, and I enjoyed reading them. Alas, Gary also sings the praises of building a massive joke portfolio. Gulman’s so serious about funny, that he suggests aspiring comics use the subway ride home from a gig to analyze every failed bit they’d uttered from the stage that night. If it were me, I’d be taking an Uber to the nearest bar, and praying I’d forget ever performing at all.

But I did break out a Moleskine, ready to scribble down all the inspiring humor nuggets that undoubtedly surround me. Here’s what I came up with yesterday:

You read that right. Zilch. Nada.

Maybe I should give up on “jokes” per se, and just write down funny WORDS instead. From years of reading comedy advice, I know for sure that:

“Banana” is good. “Tomato” is not, especially if you slice one into your cereal.

Words with the “k” sound are funny (“coffin” is always good for a howl).

Then there are silly actual words like “filibuster” and “hemidemisemiquaver.”

Tomorrow morning I’ll head to Shop N Bag with my humor notebook. I’ll load my cart with bananas, cucumbers and kumquats. Hopefully the cart wheels will go all cattywumpus, and there’ll be a hullabaloo as I crash into a display of Tastycakes.

That’s really funny stuff. Right, Aiden?