I happen to love comedy. Those who do not know me particularly well often find me to be a rather prim and serious sort of person, but when they start to know me a little bit better and when I relax around them I will generally show my deadpan and sometimes daring sense of humor around them with one of the many funny and slightly embarrassing stories from my life. Since I have a fairly large treasure trove of stories from my own life, wry observations from what I have seen, as well as jokes related to music [1] or my profession. Having recently posted a humorous picture about my profession of engineering (see above photo), I was reminded as well of a joke I heard once from an ex-girlfriend who had heard the joke from her mother, who is married to an engineer. The joke was: “What do engineers use for birth control? Their personalities.” While I did not find the joke to be that funny, the mother apparently did.

For me, the joy of humor lies in the thin line between comedy and tragedy. The sort of material I like to joke about often skirts uncomfortably close to areas of deep tragedy in my life. Humor, being one of the most effective and mature coping mechanisms for dealing with the absurdity of life, has a way of helping to ease the embarrassment or pain that life provides. So long as one can keep a ready and humane wit, and a good sense of humor, much of life’s sorry can be effectively handled and lessons can be shared. For example, I remember one time while with a group of acquaintances that someone kept on singing about a song whose lyrics referred to a matter that I considered a personal reference to me. Rather than be upset about it, I chose to take a different tack and say that it was my theme song, which made everyone around laugh nervously and in a shocked manner, and also stopped the song from being endlessly repeated by others. Given that I’m generally fairly aware of myself, I am pretty willing to joke about myself and not take my quirks and eccentricities too seriously, so long as I am treating others with respect and honor.

Tonight I happened to enjoy seeing three comics perform, each of them better than the previous one. The first one had a fairly rudimentary sort of skit that focused on making light of his speech impediment and his half-mexican background. The second one was better, and was a Portland local named Gabe Dinger, whose comedy was a little more polished, and who had a better stage presence, and who liked making fun of Portland traffic and the laughter of members of the audience. However, it was the main event, comic Adam Ferrara, who really did a great job with a slightly long skit that involved a fairly unified theme of love for family, weaving together stories about his wife [2] as well as his father in a very touching and poignant set that was not only funny but had a great deal of emotional resonance and sympathy as well. His skill in comedy was not only in the happiness, but also in the way in which he seemed to bare his heart. He was friendly and gracious after the show as well, which also left a positive impression.

As someone who just attended their first comedy show, I was struck by how small and intimate such matters are. In fact, giving a show at the particular venue where I attended with a roommate is not so different from giving a humorous sort of show to strangers at a dinner conversation. In some ways, it is easier to tell one’s personal matters to a stranger than it is to the person themselves, since a stranger is likely to be somewhat sympathetic (if they are a decent person at least) without all of the layers of hurt that tend to be attached to public revelations of a personal nature to deeply private people who don’t realize that their behavior is worthy of a comedy skit. I am reminded of one of the comics tonight who told stupid things that his younger brother said, which I thought was pretty cheeky, and which would probably discourage any kind of discourse from someone who is not likely to enjoy being laughed at by others in public. Not everyone finds the amusement in such matters. As in so much, comedy is in the eye of the beholder. What one person views as a necessary pressure valve to ensure some kind of sanity among the absurdity and insanity that this life provides can be viewed by someone else as treacherous communications of a dishonorable nature. While one person may see the need to laugh in order not to cry, another person may not find anything funny at all, or worth bringing to the attention of the general public as a source of ridicule and amusement. Comedy may be necessary for one’s well-being, but it can be really rough on relationships.

[1] https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2011/07/22/viola-jokes/

[2] One of the bits he had was something that struck me as particularly easy for me to relate to, in that he was talking openly about his fears of commitment and his recognition of love and the fears he had in being accepted by his much more attractive wife. Being open and candid with one’s fears is something I try to do, and I was pleased with his modesty.