Humor's Hidden Side

Melancholy runs in my side of the family, though we express it in different ways. Apparently, I’m the only one that expresses it as melancholy, or in non-Southern terms, depression. You see, depression (at least in these regions) has historically been regarded as a sign of weakness and still is: past, present, and future. One gets more respect as a full-blown multiple personality or Boo Radley misfit than someone with the blues—unless you play an instrument such as the harmonica, which I don’t. Still, I do the best I can. In my late, great life I’ve recently decided to quit writing for fun.

Nevertheless, as I recently shared with Cousin Di, my son’s sociology professor just penned on his paper that she deemed him her most intriguing student. This unusually effusive compliment was regarding his response to several questions, one of which was, “How do you expect the world to end?” His answer: “In a ridiculously avoidable manner.”

These are the types of funny takes tinged with hopelessness that have traversed my tiny brain since I can remember, and when seeing them expressed so humorously by my son, they conjure up torturous thoughts regarding nurture versus nature. To this day, David and I share the same nights of convoluted and sometimes beautiful nightmares/dreams that we share the following morning. Did I somehow curse him with my persona or uncontrollably damn him with my downer genes? It would be great if I could rely on the latter, wouldn’t it? Because after all, who can control a dysfunctional gene pool? That way, I can just keep dog paddling without claiming that I’m swimming.

Just the other day, when David was home for the weekend, I asked him for the time. He said, “It’s time for you to just shut up!” We both laughed. Humor is an odd thing. For me, it’s a means of survival. However, in the most horrible circumstances, I have used it in a macabre way—most of the time (at least now that I’ve learned better) internally. I think it’s a mechanism for those of us who can be hurt to the core by people who don’t understand how easy it is to hurt people to the core.

That’s why for now I've going to keep on blathering about my inconsequential adventures in hopes that others will realize we’re all out there—laughing whenever possible while we just tread water.