A Joke is Worth 721 Words

The dictionary defines humor as “The quality that makes something laughable or amusing.” When I read this definition it made me laugh, such an emotionless explanation of something so powerful. Humor can make a bad day good, a worse day bad, or even be that last ray of hope one clings to when enduring the darkest times.
When I was six years old, I endured the hardest time in my life. In a very short time span my parents divorced, the cherished family dog died, and a severe asthma attack almost killed me. The first week of dealing with this trifecta of depression I have no memory of as I was preoccupied with dieing. Though eerily I can remember vivid flashbacks of my pleasant stay at the hospital, these images come in the form of brief moments of conciseness and it’s these “brief moments” I can never erase from my mind. In these moments I remember bright lights, with shadowy figures, I can only assume were doctors, rushing in and out of view, a machine fit with needles, screws, clamps, and various other attachments hangs above, inaudible screams complemented by a steady, yet loud beep fill my ear drums. Just as these images and noises threaten to take my last bit of sanity, they end just as quickly as they started. These nightmares, a souvenir of my time there, may seem terrifying harsh, but I feel they are a small price to pay for the miracle that occurred that week.
Having successfully won my duel with death, I had to return home from what seemed like a dream state, return to reality and face the tribulations it brought. Having suffered through divorce and near death, it’s needless to say my family was emotionally drained, and I needed to find my own escape, and it was during this search I discovered the real definition of humor. During this time I watched hundreds of stand up comics, eventually finding a comedian who remains one of my comedic heroes to this day. That comedian is Richard Pryor, over his illustrious career he told countless jokes and shoved the essence of political correctness into the faces of hypocritical aristocrats, but that isn’t why I admire him. The problem with almost dieing is that it robs one of confidence and courage to try new things. Richard Pryor represented these things to me. He was never afraid to try a new joke that he knew would be a social no-no, and he bled confidence while on that stage. I had never seen someone so natural on the stage like he was. While he was up there he was completely in his element. He spoke with complete confidence and never hesitated, because of this the audience intensely watched his body language, anticipated every punch-line, and listened to his every word, while in contrast my experiences had made me meek and introverted. It was him that had inspired the next generation of comedy to take their acts to the next level, and it was him who inspired me to try my own hand at comedy, so I could spread this happiness I had found. What has always fascinated me about comedy is, astonishingly enough, the laughter. Laughter is a very strange thing in that while laughing all other feelings or problems take back seat, and all that is felt is the laughter.
The definition of humor is, pointless. It isn’t something that can be defined or given shape. Humor affects everyone, but never in the same way. No one joke is funny to everyone, humor is ageless, it evolves with the generations and yet even the oldest jokes are still funny. Humor is invisible, but one can see it in the smiles and reactions of others. Nothing is this world is more beautiful then a joke that hits its mark. While the ego boost of a good joke is nice it’s the smallest satisfaction a comedian can get, because at that moment during the laughter brought on by the punch-line, looking out over a sea of laughing faces, the comedian knows that at that moment in time, none of those people are thinking about their problems, all they feel is the laughter, all they feel is happiness.