Humor Is My Friend

I cannot explain the creative process. Nor can I attempt to explain why some people have a sense of humor while others wouldn’t understand "funny" if it sat on them and laid a giant goose egg. Humor has always been my savior, helping me through some very difficult times, starting when I was very young. It is no coincidence that I married a comedian, 25 years ago this June. He makes me laugh. Especially when I ask him to hook up the DVD player to the television.

Last week, while pretending to exercise at the gym, the television tuned silently to CNN, I saw this zipper crawl at the bottom of the screen: “Donald Trump demands to see Obama’s birth certificate.” Come again? Since I couldn’t hear what was being said and there weren’t subtitles, I could only assume that The Donald’s demand was somehow related to his bid for the presidency in 2012. An angry pre-emptive strike, if you will. I watched as a red-faced Trump-mime shook his fist, his hair bobbing poignantly. I wondered what he was so mad about.

Later in the week, it was revealed that Mr. Trump, who had indeed thrown his hair, er, hat into the presidential ring, has not voted in the last 21 primaries in New York City. He doesn’t bother to vote, but he claims that he will be able to lead the country out of a recession that shows no sign of abating because of his fabulously weird hairdo and an abundance of money, two qualities not generally associated with the presidency. Yes, George Washington DID have an attractive bob and FDR DID come from a wealthy family, but it was their leadership that defined them.

There was a time when, to question the president was to question the American way of life. It just wasn’t done, except maybe by "Commies" and other un-American types. The Sixties changed all of that. America found its voice and the freedom to speak out against racism, the Vietnam War and myriad other issues. There were heated protests and irate marches. Bras were burned, flags were charred and we went from a docile, follow-the-leader culture to an outspoken people who wanted peace and equality for everyone.

Fast forward to the year 2011. The Republicans hate the Democrats, the Democrats loathe the Republicans. The Tea Party-ers, once Republicans, had to branch off and form their own party because they hated the direction their party was going. Hannity hates Hillary, Maddow vilifies Limbaugh and we all fall down. Here in Angertown, everyone’s cranky, no one bending, all of us forgetting that we are each entitled to our opinion, but that doesn’t make us right. Or wrong.

This is our new reality…a world of intolerance…again. To paraphrase David Byrne, “How did we get here?”

Recently, I wrote a column that was, ostensibly, about Moorestown’s declining ratables, and suggested, humorously, a way to pump some “Benjamins” into our local economy. I also mentioned Canada Geese and seagulls. And although I labeled seagulls “flying rats,” I have not heard one peep from that particular contingent. Instead, one goose-loving individual, who sees me as a combination of Hitler and toxic waste, has personally excoriated ME on a daily basis. “She” has demanded that I see a therapist, has insinuated that I am a racist who makes fun of the oppressed, children and innocent wildlife. I was called a whiner, a pansy and an animal-hater.  “She” has trotted out horror stories about goose abuse that are somehow now my fault. All in the name of loving Canada Geese! With love like that, who needs hatred?

I write an opinion column. That means I am giving my take on a certain topic. I am not claiming great insights, universal truths or anything other than how I feel about a particular idea with, hopefully, a modicum of humor. To take my writing so way out of context under the pretense of loving geese is bizarre and unhealthy, in MY opinion. But it certainly goes along with the general trend that has swallowed our country and our town:  an absolute intolerance for those who disagree with us.

Small town politics are a Pandora’s box filled with differing, strong opinions, biased agendas and a load of special interests mingled with a modicum of sincerity and sometimes, a desire to do what’s right. Step into this arena, if you dare, because it has become a dangerous place, if you don’t go along with the status quo.

I think Moorestown is tired of the acrimony. Citizens joined together recently to rebuild a beloved playground and for that sunny weekend, it seemed that working side by side could conquer all differences, for all the children of our fair town. But the many problems that plague us remain. Ratables are down, new plans are drawn up, old buildings torn down. Our playing fields have not been maintained by the  township, our Main Street is asleep and if you’re in favor of this, I don’t like you for that.

I am just as guilty as everyone else. I feel very strongly about two issues that are currently being discussed, and sometimes what I say may be passionate but perhaps not well thought through. My bad.

You want artificial turf and scoreboards? Fund it and build them. You want to protect geese? I applaud you. You want to worship cows? It is your right and I will not condemn you for it. But be forewarned that I will continue eating a hamburger every so often, without a shred of guilt. That does NOT make me evil.