cleveland plain dealer 8-16-02

The Plain Dealer

Before all the remembrances, remember this: Laugh a little

08/16/02
I'm going to let you in on a little secret.
It is out there on the horizon waiting to descend like a 10-story tidal wave. You're about to be bombarded by people with pens, cameras and microphones who are doing Sept. 11 remembrances, think pieces, video clips, columns, interviews, roundups, books and documentaries.
Where were you? Where was I? Where were they? Where are they now? Where are we now? How have we changed? It will be relentless.
The media are planning to surround and drown you in feelings of sorrow, anger, fear, resentment and grief. They will not rest until the memories of 9/11 pour forth.
In fact, as a card-carrying journalist, I am required by law to write at least one 9/11 column on or before 9/11 of this year. And I'm more than prepared to do that. Wait till you read it. I guarantee it will ruin your whole day, if not your week. You'll see. I'll surprise you.
But until then, I have a suggestion. How about some laughter? Some humor. A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer in your pants. I think it's important. There is no better time to exercise your sense of humor. I've found three ways to do it.
There's a book called "Fierce Pajamas: An Anthology of Humor Writing From the New Yorker." The collection has pieces by 70 writers from James Thurber to Steve Martin that span nearly three-quarters of a century.
More recently and more locally, another book is out, "The Best of the Best American Humor" by Raymond Lesser and Susan Wolpert, creators of "The Funny Times," the monthly humor magazine. Raymond and Susan have been putting together the magazine in Cleveland Heights for 17 years and stuffing it with cartoons, essays and columns from papers around the country.
They have 62,000 national subscribers, and it's the kind of thing you always are glad to see in the mail. It's so much fun, my wife hides it until I've done the dirty work and heavy lifting required around the house. You should buy the book and sign up for the magazine.
The third book that comes to our rescue is "101 Damnations: The Humorists Tour of Personal Hells." Here's the deal. Editor Michael Rosen contacts 101 humor writers and gets them to write essays about their pet peeves. The money goes to Share Our Strength Harvest, a national benefit to combat poverty and hunger. For all I know, he contacted 202 writers and rejected material from 101 of them. But whatever the case, he put together a hilarious collection of rants.
What I love about these pieces is that most of them prove a great axiom of life: The more mundane the irritation, the more universal it is. Kurt Andersen writes about people who remark on your work without rendering an opinion. Frank Cammuso and Hart Seely compose voice-over copy for the worst movie trailer ever made. David Bouchier goes after our recent obsession with "mission statements."
Bruce McCall rips golf. Beth Teitell explores ugly truths revealed by the office candy dish. Evan Morris wonders why scientists can put a man on the moon but haven't developed grass that doesn't need weekly mowing. Randy Cohen unveils the boredom of watching and playing baseball.
The beauty of these pieces is that they are sharp, shrewd and mercifully short. And there are 101 of them. Talk about something for everyone. It's a veritable Whitman Sampler of delicious and witty bitching.
I have some complaints. Not that anyone has asked to hear them (Michael Rosen, hel-lo). It really bugs me when someone gets to the morning newspaper before me, reads the jump (excuse the journalism terminology - it means reads the rest of the story on a back page) and leaves the paper in that folded condition. The next reader has to fold the paper back into its original configuration.
It's a huge pain. As is littering. Is littering making a comeback? Do we need to be subjected to another round of public-service announcements featuring crying Indians? I actually find myself out and about picking up trash. My wife says, "I wish you were that enthusiastic about picking up your socks!" To which I reply, "Maybe when you learn to refold the newspaper!"
So you can see my house is full of mirth and gaiety. That's why I urge you to hang onto your sense of humor. It's important.
Because if you don't, well, then the media win.