|"Sure, it's a jungle out there, but I can still laugh about it."|
For six months now, I’ve been in a somber mood, doing more thinking and ruminating than I’ve probably ever done in my life.
Losing a parent will do that to you. You begin to drill into the heart of issues you never contemplated and the world becomes more enlightening and more confusing, but not less funny.
I’ve had enough of somberness. Within the healing process of grief, I have gained tremendous insight into the circle of life and have finally become…Simba. (smile)
There’s a voice inside that has been bottled up too long now, and it’s banging on my thick skull to let it come out and play. I want to have fun again, laugh out loud again and, like my beloved mother who always found humor in life, I want to live joyfully, once more.
This includes writing joyfully (or sarcastically, as the mood strikes me.)
I’m returning to my roots as a thinking humorist because I’m tired of all that heavy lifting. I’m moving in a different direction and, at last, I feel I’m able to make fun of life again in our perfectly flawed world.
Sure, I’ll still be writing about deep philosophical issues such as “Who’s the better actress…..Betty or Wilma?” and the striking similarities between the actions of a driver who has overwhelming road rage versus a driver who has an overwhelming need to pee.
There will be times to examine the infinite questions of the universe, including why people who drive red cars cannot be trusted to act rationally, and how the lighting and colors in Walmart hypnotize you into buying things you do not need, and compel you to mysteriously lose the receipt so you cannot bring them back.
The wise Zen master once said, “Eat when you are hungry; sleep when you are tired.” I add, “Laugh when you are ready.”