There are a lot of things I remember about my father. I remember the smell of his aftershave (Skin Bracer), look and feel of his hands and the way he answered the telephone. (He didn’t say hello, he said, “Alright.”) I remember his gruff baritone growl, the look he gave someone when he was angry, and the fact that one of his eyes got a little lazy when he was tired. (Thanks for that genetic trait, Dad. I see it in about half the pictures taken of me.)
But the thing I remember most when I remember my dad, is his laugh. Bud laughed; he laughed a lot. He laughed many times to tears. He laughed with his friends and family because they were laughing; and most of the time, they were laughing at a joke he had told.
Bud Wilson probably knew a million jokes; at least it seemed that way. More importantly, he knew how to tell a million jokes. I know, because I’ve heard him tell jokes for hours. He was genuinely good at it. He had a great memory for punch lines, perfect timing, and the ability to change a story depending on his audience.
Dad loved jokes, and instilled in me a love for humor. When he came home from work, he often brought us kids a little something; some candy, a half melted popsicle, etc. But if he had heard a new joke while he was at work, that was the real prize. Because he would have to tell it. Because he would just about burst if he didn’t.
Bud instilled that love for humor in me. I love jokes and stories of all types, and if you know me, you know that I’ve always got one…or five. When I was about ten, my elementary school principal pulled me aside one day and advised me not to tell so many jokes and stories. “People don’t like that,” he said. Well, while there is a right time and a wrong time for jokes and stories, I’ve often wished that I could tell that old principal of mine a thing or two about the ability to tell a joke. He was wrong; people do like that…a lot. Over the years, I’ve spoken to thousands of people and been in many highly charged business situations, and I can tell you that the ability to simply tell a joke is probably one of the most valuable assets my father gave me.
A well told joke builds rapport, while at the same time diffusing tension. It helps us connect with people. No matter who you are or where you come from, it feels good to laugh; and people like someone that makes them feel good. Many times, I’ve seen a weighty, tenuous situation that was handled deftly and delicately because someone had the tact to insert a little humor into the mix. In college, I once walked into a communications class along with a herd of frightened classmates, and instead of producing a prepared speech, I stood with no notes and delivered an old joke I had told a hundred times. The instructor gave me an “A+”. That’s the value of humor.
Now I say a well told joke, because we have all been at the mercy of someone that can’t tell a joke. They have no sense of timing, they can’t remember the punch line, or they simply don’t understand that the joke may not relate at all to the situation at hand. I’m thinking of just such a person as I write this; you probably know one too. It is brutally uncomfortable and embarrassing to stand there with a polite smile and a forced chuckle while someone butchers a joke. It hurts; it offends the sensibilities. Humor is like good music; we all know instinctively what it should sound like; but we don’t all have the talent to make it happen.
If you know I am talking about you, don’t worry. There’s a lot of humor to go around. Enjoy the jokes of others. Practice your own. (The jokes I tell best are the ones I’ve told the most.) And if you can’t tell a joke well, tell it anyway. If they don’t laugh with you, maybe they can laugh at you. (That was a joke- could you tell?) By the way, that’s another thing. Never explain a joke. If they don’t get it the first time, let it go. That ship has sailed. Don’t waste your breath.
That’s why I say if you can tell a joke, rejoice in the ability; revel in it, use it. Make the world a happier, funnier place. I saw my father do that, and in the end, his friends and family loved him for taking the edge of what can be a hard, cruel life. Pull the plug on the tension; we take ourselves was too seriously. Proverbs 17:22 says, “A merry heart is like good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.” You don’t want dried up bones do you? So lighten up. God gave us laughter for a reason. It’s a beautiful thing. When I get to Heaven, I’m going to look my father up and I can guarantee you this; if he’s not at the feet of Jesus at that moment, he’ll have someone cornered and he’ll be telling a joke…and he’ll be laughing. I can’t wait.
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