Since you’re old, I’m sure you remember reading, amid the tales of hometown heroes and gynecology, the monthly essay in Reader’s Digest magazine entitled “Laughter is the Best Medicine.” By the time I could read, I understood that humor provided relief from the insanity and cruelty of the world.
This was mainly due to my mother, easily the funniest person alive. Unfortunately, though, her humor was mainly sarcasm that could also hurt like hell whether intended or not.
Imagine that – a mother who at once terrifies her son and teaches him to laugh. Most people knew that although I was a skinny bookworm with no eye-hand coordination, I had a tongue sharp enough to draw blood.
Few openly acknowledged it, although my favorite high school teacher did tell me that the faculty voted me the “wittiest” member of my senior class even when my classmates picked someone else.
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