This is harder than it seems…

I want to be funny.  After so many dark and gloomy words I feel like I should balance things out.   I’m really a funny guy (Especially when I’m manic), but it’s really difficult to convey that with writing.

I have so many jokes and stories to tell.  But timing is everything, and I haven’t figured that out yet.  Like Rodney Dangerfield said… “I’ve got a million of them”.  For example, the first time I got arrested (Yes, the First time).  I was fishing with a buddy of mine in February, and being so early in the season neither one of us bothered to buy a fishing license.  SO of course a ranger showed up, asking to see our licenses.   We were about 20 feet off shore in a john boat, so I just held up my old hunting license, and he was satisfied.   My buddy however wasn’t as quick, and admitted he didn’t have one, and the ranger waved us in.  After he wrote a citation for him, he asked if he could see my license again.   Busted!  So of course I got a citation too.  No big deal… at this point.   45 days later I was due in court, expecting to pay the fine and be done with it.   Except there was a problem…   I was really manic and had been hospitalized a couple of days before, and being in court was the last thing on my mind. So I missed my court date, and there was a bench warrant issued for my arrest.  When I was discharged after a week or so, I came home to find a note on my door to call the local police as soon as possible.  I had an outstanding warrant.  I called the police, and they told me to come in the next afternoon and we could clear it up in just a few minutes.  Now,  I lived in a small town, and the police department was small and to talk to someone in the station you used a phone in the lobby to call dispatch.   I did, and was told that an officer would be down in a few minutes to serve the warrant.  While I’m waiting, a woman comes in obviously distressed.   She is PISSED that she has to call dispatch instead of talking immediately to an officer about her complaint.   As we’re waiting, she is ranting and raving about some kids who had thrown rocks at her car driving down the road.  She’s going on and on about how inept the police department was, and what a joke that she had to call…IN the police station… That she paid taxes for… Just to talk to an officer.   What kind of police department was this anyway?   She finally starts to calm down, admits that she was being rude and asked me what I was there for…  So I told her “I’m here to be arrested if anybody will show up”.   Sure enough, right as I’m saying this, an officer peeks his head around a corner and says “Sir, you’re under arrest, would you come with me please?”  The look on her face, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open as she slowly backed away in horror was priceless, totally worth missing my court date.  (And I paid my fine and was on my way…no problem).

OK, so that was pretty lame, wasn’t it?  It was really funny at the time, and it tells well, but not so much here.  I’ll try again…  So two guys walk into a bar…  Nah, that’s been done too many times before.

Being funny is so much easier when you have someone to play off of.  A straight man…   Timing is everything.   Mark Twain can have me in stitches, but damned if I know how to do that.  It can be a riot at the time… sitting in the back of a patrol car in handcuffs, telling the arresting officer my alias is “Tater Salad” (For the Ron White fans), Cracking one joke after another at parties, having coworkers in tears laughing so hard at funny observations about the boss…  Leave ‘em laughing, I always say.

Being bipolar isn’t all darkness and despair.  There are the ‘normal’ times and there are times of great hilarity.  As there is a tendency for people with bipolar to be more intelligent and we can have the ability to observe the absurd.  There is also the need for me to balance out the depth of depression with fun and humor.

Just not here.   I need to work on my shtick.

And leave ‘em laughing.

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