I believe that laughter is the only true way to live my life. There is a sense of humor in almost everything. I think that serious injury and death are really the only exceptions; yet sometimes even those can be funny. I’ve learned how to laugh from years of humorous television, acting, and sarcasm/wit. Only in the past couple of years have I become one that is found “funny”. The one thing that constantly changes about me is the way I laugh; from evil, maniacal laughter to a chuckle that is most like the cartoon, Goofy. When ever my brother comes home from Arizona, we wrestle in the living room and he pins me like none other because he’s wrestled and done Boys Scouts his entire life. So I just laugh at him in a high pitched laugh, call him a Girl Scout, and ask if he’s got any Thin Mints.
I always feel good about myself after a long laugh. Sometimes I feel as though I’m grinning like an idiot all day long. I usually get people laughing along with me. A good amount of the time, they’re laughing with me; most of the time they’re laughing at me. It’s all OK. I’m used to it and I don’t care. I tend to try and have the funny teachers at school. My English teacher from my senior year of high school, Ms. French, (ironic in itself) taught me how to use sarcasm, quick wit, and silences to crack jokes. She was the queen of it, too. Honestly, after the first day of classes, I left her room crying from laughter. Over the next nine months, I learned how to create humorous situations by speaking in different voices and utilizing a plethora of elongated, technical terms and phrases. “Young Frankenstein” and “Monty Python” were as essential as chugging down Pygmalion and Siddhartha in her class. I became so much like her that I told her she was ruining my life. She disclaimed that by saying I just always had the potential.
She was right.
I use that sarcasm and wit to give my parents a hard time, but sometimes they just plain, old deserve it. Example: I overslept one day for school and my dad is coming up the stairs to see if I’m awake. I wake up at the sound of the stairs and I immediately start getting dressed. He enters my room where I stand half naked, in the midst of putting on a shirt and says, “Trevor, are you awake?” I just looked at him and said, “No, Princess, I’m baking a cake.” Concerning my mother, whom I love dearly, my dad and I usually just give her a hard time about her short stature. “Can we get the kids menu for my mother?” We’re the Marcs family in reality; an Abbott and Costello routine waiting to happen.
I believe God has given me the gift of laughter (giving and receiving) because when ever people are having a bad day, they either watch episodes of Jerry Springer to feel better about their selves or call me up to make them laugh. It’s been many times claimed that I’m the only thing good that happens in someone’s day. Laughter is the cure. I’m the Patch Adams of today, except I know nothing about medicine.
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