Humor by John Christmann
It's A Beautiful Day
Sometimes I feel optimism is vastly overrated. It’s just no fun being happy all the time! We need a break from the carefree, happy-go-lucky events that buoy our lives everyday and exercise our god given right to suck the life out of everyone around us.
Let’s face it, there are some days when you wake up with the sun peeking over the horizon and the sky is open and blue and full of promise and all you can say is muck phusick! because the cat is in your bed and you discover you were sleeping all night with its tail in your mouth. Or worse, maybe you own a goat.
These are the days when petty annoyances collect like junk mail and all you want to do is look that perky grocery store clerk who wishes you a nice day dead in the eye and say "Oh, bite me".
Go ahead, it’s OK! Millions of New Yorkers can’t be wrong. Say it loud! Say it proud! Bite me!
Such was a day not too long ago when I entered a contest that caught my attention just before I broke my radio with a shoe. The contest was elegantly simple and deceptively difficult: Write the story of your life in six words.
“Brevity is the soul of wit” the radio announcer went on to say cheerily as he challenged millions of listeners to sum up their lives’ in a two second sound bite worthy of William Shakespeare. I was untying the knots in my shoe laces at the time and the announcer was way too happy.
After I smacked the radio the cat went into hiding.
If I had been brimming with hope and optimism that morning, summing up my life in six words would have been extraordinarily difficult. But as an Energy Sucking Black Hole I was inspired. I dashed off my entry in just five words: “I always come up short.” It matched my mood perfectly.
For a couple of hours the ironically depressing summary of my life put me in a much better frame of mind, and I was beginning once again to see a future in which Publishers Clearing house, if not the world, could be my oyster. But then I received an automated email response disqualifying me from the contest because my entry was only five words long.
“But that’s the point!” I wrote back sharply. And then I added "Bite me!" because apparently anything less than six words is too brief to be the soul of wit.
Just then my daughter came bouncing into my office in an effort to cheer me up. “Daddy, I entered you in a different contest and you can win an Ipod!” she said. She went on to explain that it was an Internet contest and all she had to do was type in my email address.
Here is the irony of pessimism: just when you think things can’t get any worse they get better. Almost immediately I started receiving inspirational emails from total strangers.
Mrs. Naveed Jafar, a born again Christian living in the United Arab Emirates, wrote to tell me that she was recently diagnosed with incurable elbow cancer, this after the death of her Nigerian husband who left her with 24 million Euros in ill-gotten gains from smuggling rubber bands all of which she would now like to give to charity to atone for her sins if only I would use my own bank account as a clearing house without delay because she doesn’t have long to live and I should not feel sorry for her.
I also learned that I have a deceased relative named Dom Kwandihar who left me a tidy fortune if I can help clear it from the probate courts in an undisclosed country that will be revealed just as soon as I contact Mr. Jan Krukerhand Esquire with my personal information to verify that I am the same John Dad In The Box who is related to the aforementioned Mr. Kwandihar of whom he mentioned earlier that is recently dead from a tragic accident involving Toro Weed Whacker.
I was deeply touched that such people would reach out to contact me. Sometimes good things can arise from misfortune. I immediately replied to their thoughtful outreach with well-practiced soul, brevity, and wit. " Bite me" I responded.
Against my better nature, which wasn’t really getting much better, I decided to write another six word essay to sum up my life. But I realized that I needed to be more positive, more upbeat, more inspirational.
After all, no one wants to hear my troubles. Not even me. For gosh sakes, I told myself, the world is already full of bad news, tragedies, and horror. Enjoy life today, because tomorrow you could easily wake up to discover that Paula Abdul is leaving American Idol, and then what?
I hugged my daughter and reassured her that sending my personal information to needy hackers with gold teeth in Eastern Europe was a small price to pay for the chance of wining an iPod.
Just then the cat came out of hiding. I think it was hungry.
Finally, after two hours of agonizing deliberation crafting just the right message with just the right sentiment, I gave up. Because I can’t really sum up my life in six pithy words. Not when I feel good about it. Bite me, Mr. Shakespeare.
That afternoon I was in the car with my kids when the winning entries were read over the radio. Some were thought provoking, some humorous. Most were very witty. But the winning entry loomed gritty and real and tragic. I immediately turned off the radio.
“I know! Let’s get some ice cream!” I said hopefully. They didn’t respond. They had been listening to the radio. They sat in silence for another minute. Finally my daughter asked, “Daddy, what does suicide mean?”
Yes, sometimes I feel optimism is vastly overrated. But happily, I can’t imagine going through life without it.
© 2009 Dadinthebox.com