My friend Austin is the funniest man I know. I have laughed much because of him. He has significantly increased my “total life-laughter ”.
His humorous dry wit was delivered in perfect timing when we had a neighborhood fire at the house of one especially irritating, chronically–barking dog. The animal in question was temporarily asphyxiated by the fire, only to be revived by the firemen to the tune of his ever-ready and overly-familiar bark. It was comic relief we all needed.
Austin also recalls the tenacious tanning efforts of his youth, trying to emulate his Italian buddies in the ethnic neighborhood of New York where he grew up. Ignoring his “flimsy white Irish skin”, he basked in the rays with his Mediterranean blood brothers “oozing melanin”. Unfortunately it has now gained him a few unwanted cancer cells on his skin. But only Austin can make cancer funny.
In his writing he is especially comical, calling assisted living centers “old age warehouses” and refusing his own “storage there”. He references Ulysses, who in his later years “sailed beyond the sunset” in his quest “to shine in use”. Austin is very literary.
Like many funny people, Austin is a sensitive soul. His feelings, his thoughts, his perceptions and insights run deep. It’s how he can cut to the core in a single hilarious statement.
Comedians have to reach deep inside to pull out the funny stuff. For humor has to touch the truth for it to be funny. Otherwise we wouldn’t laugh. The truth has tremendous power. There’s little strength in lies.
The ability to be funny is a rarified skill. You’re got to cut to the chase in an instant. Austin does it naturally, with a rapid beat and that effervescent positive spirit that I adore in him.
Everyone needs an Austin in their life.
Keep me laughing Austin. You make my life more joyful.
Photo: Austin not quite laughing, but if you look closely you might detect the funny lines forming in his brain
No comments:
Post a Comment