and he died of laughter

Some people have a gift. They have practiced their whole lives and have gotten it down to a science. They can take almost every circumstance and by some comparison or play of words or connection of events, make everyone else laugh. They can remember a funny part of an earlier conversation and come back to it over and over, building on it brick by brick, higher and higher till everyone is looking up at, appreciating, and laughing hysterically because of these masterfully built mini-monologues.

And if they can’t deliver every once in a while, most people give them the benefit of any doubt by laughing anyway. At times it is as if people known as comedians can take a break from any effort toward solid humor, because any words coming out of their mouths are automatically funny. They are their own ready-made context. The same words fall flat when they come from the mouth of a nerd or a rookie jokester.

But the comedian is the one under a curse. He can almost never be both caring confidant and consummate comedian. It is difficult to get respect to kindle when you typically spark laughter. The two fires can’t seem to coexist very long. Not that respectable people are never funny. They like A1 on their steak. But no one having a bite of their conversations complains that there is too much sauce on not enough meat.

Comedians may distract from pain or lighten a mood, but they aren’t encouraging in any substantial way. I didn’t go to the Bill Cosby clips on my Ipod when I drove away from the funeral of my friend’s grandmother a few weeks ago. Levity feels banal when you want gravity.

But if not reverenced, the comedians are popular. Those who’ve earned a reputation as funny people can draw on this identity at any time for a small thrill. It’s like being dressed up and walking by a crowd, catching everyone’s glance. It’s a little inner boost. But if those little joys always get fed and grow up to live and thrive, the deeper and more fulfilling social joys begin to die.

A merry heart may do good like medicine, but it’s right beside eating and drinking in the fool’s trivium. If “tomorrow we die” and that is it, the fool lives today laughing. If laughter can keep his mind off life, death, other people, or another Person, he will toss out the steak entirely and chug the sauce.

And though he may live many more years, he has died of an overdose long before tomorrow.