Thoughts on Humor

I don't know how it began, but in recent weeks we've had an ongoing discussion about comedy in my house.We've talked about it all: slapstick, topical, dry wit, and bathroom humor. If motherhood has taught me anything, it's that nothing stops a six year old boy from crying faster than a good fart joke. Despite the proven healing power of potty jokes, a dry wit remains my favorite. This prompted my ten year old to ask, "How do you get a dry wit?" God knows I haven't really found one to call my own, but I do appreciate it in others. So we've been analyzing and categorizing every joke we read in books lately because we're stuck on this humor thing. Earlier this week, eight year old Hayden shared a Stephen Wright-like question from her latest book, Dear Dumb Diary #8: It's Not My Fault I Know Everything by Jim Benton. Who spends more time on their appearance: supermodels or circus clowns? Think about it, the hair, the make up, the bizarre outfits and uncomfortable shoes. Hayden just loves those Dear Dumb Diary books and was beside herself with joy to find this latest one at the bookstore last week even though it wasn't scheduled for release until next month.

A comedy bit has been running through my head lately as well. It's from Demetri Martin's new show, "Important Things with Demetri Martin" on Comedy Central. Bookish nerd that I am, I love all of his fresh, clever wordplay. On a recent show, he suggested that to make someone sound less powerful, put "DJ" in front of his or her name. He demonstrated the effectiveness of this with DJ ABRAHAM LINCOLN. So funny, right? I've found myself testing it out on name after name as I go throughout my day. DJ Dick Cheney. DJ William Shakespeare. DJ Salman Rushdie. Like a song stuck in your head, I guarantee you'll end up trying it too as you read the newspaper or listen to the radio.

Look for Joy in the Rink

A number of years ago, I went to visit my grandfather in the hospital after he had undergone surgery. I remember being very worried about him. He looked so small in the hospital gown and bed, and I wasn't sure how aware he was of what was going on or if he even knew I was there. He was such a sharp and proud person, he would not have wanted to appear confused or helpless. So I just sat there quietly in the room with him. There was all the usual daytime noise of a busy hospital going on in the hallway. In particular, the nurses all seemed to need someone by the name of Joy. Who knew if she was a candy striper, maintenance worker, therapist, or doctor? All I know is I kept hearing people loudly ask, "Has anyone seen Joy?" and "Where's Joy?" A nurse came in to fiddle with my grandpa's tubes. Another nurse ducked her head in the room and inquired of her, "Where should I look for Joy?" From his bed and without opening his eyes, my grandpop said, "Not in Mudville." My worrying ended and my love of the greatest sports poem ever, "Casey at the Bat," increased tenfold.
Marty Sederman has written a fast paced rhyming picture book about a pee wee ice hockey game inspired by the style of "Casey at the Bat." If for no other reason, I like Casey and Derek on the Ice because it gave me a chance to tell that story. It does also have some other strengths to recommend. It has lots of action and an underdog story, as well as exciting, spot on illustrations. Illustrator Zachary Pullen has definitely put in some hours at ice hockey rinks. His details are realistic from the black puck marks on the boards to the kids' names written on masking tape affixed to their helmets. Young hockey players will recognize and appreciate the attention to detail. It won't disappoint those who like a happy ending for the underdog.

Mixed Bag on Monday

Last night we celebrated my husband and son's fortieth and tenth birthdays. We enjoyed a delicious dinner of beef and chicken fondue, although I have to admit there's something kind of yucky about the smell of spent cooking oil which is hanging in the house this morning. Maybe I'll just eat a slice of leftover birthday cake to get my mind off it. Both guys opened some nice gifts, including a few books. The forty year old now has Sy Montgomery's The Good Good Pig to help pass the time as he commutes to and from the city. The ten year old now owns Harry Mazer's A Boy at War and two of R.L.Stine's Goosebumps books, Ghost Camp and God, help us for this title, Say Cheese and Die Screaming!

Everyone was happy with the birthday dinner, and afterwards I got to enjoy the Academy Awards show. I'm glad Slumdog Millionaire won so many awards. I couldn't take my eyes off that Freida Pinto, the actress who plays Latika. How gorgeous is she? But for me as a parent and as the child of a man with an impressive attention-getting whistle, the sweetest moment of the night was when Kate Winslet was accepting her Oscar and had her dad whistle so she could find him and her mom in the crowded theater. Lovely. And I type that trying to imitate her British accent.

Happy Monday morning to you!

Grayson

I like a lot of books. Some I recommend to friends and family, some I give as gifts, and a very few make me act positively evangelical. Lynne Cox's Grayson is just such a book. I was telling people to read it before I had even finished it. I've started counting how many copies I ought to buy for upcoming birthdays. In church this morning I saw a teenaged neighbor who I chat with about books at our lake during the summer. I thought about lending her my copy. I can't wait to start reading it aloud to my kids, although I know my third and fourth graders could probably handle reading it on their own.Grayson is a marvelous and endearing memoir which recounts an encounter the author had when she was a teenager with a baby whale while swimming off the coast of California. It's a story about courage and adventure as Cox swims with the baby whale for hours, helping him find his mother and avoid dying either from collapsed lungs on the shore or of starvation and dehydration in the water. The story is told simply and beautifully. At the same time, Cox describes her experience so clearly that I felt I was in the water with her. I'm no huge nature lover and I certainly hate exercising to the point of tired, much less exhaustion, and yet I was completely charmed by this story of both. Only 153 pages long, it is an easy and enjoyable read that I plan to press on anyone who will listen to me.

Bring Me Some Apples on Foodie Friday

I've got a great picture book with rhymes and recipes on this Foodie Friday. It's Bring Me Some Apples and I'll Make You a Pie: A Story About Edna Lewis by Robbin Gourley. Edna Lewis was born in 1916 in a farming community founded by her grandfather and two other emancipated slaves. She grew up to be a famous, award winning chef when there weren't many celebrated female or African American chefs. She was a proponent of Southern regional cooking and bringing ingredients fresh from the field to the table. I learned this about her from the author's note at the end of the book. The bulk of Bring Me Some Apples follows one growing and harvesting season in Edna's childhood. She and her family harvest and eat strawberries, wild greens, wild honey, cherries, blackberries, peaches, tomatoes, watermelon, corn, beans, grapes, apples, pecans and walnuts as they ripen. With each new crop, Edna speculates on what she should make with that food. For instance, when she and her father collect wild honey, she thinks about honey sweetening hot biscuits in the morning. For each food, there is also a bit of folk wisdom or poetry, such as

"A swarm of bees in May is worth a load of hay

A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon

A swarm of bees in July is not worth a fly."

Gourley's beautiful watercolor illustrations make me long for summertime and fresh fruits and vegetables. She wisely includes four of Edna Lewis' recipes updated for modern kitchens and young cooks. The title of the book tells us this is "a story about Edna Lewis." I want more stories about her. It inspired me to learn more about her adulthood and career which makes it successful nonfiction for children in my opinion.

Happy Birthday!!!!

Somebody's turning ten today! Double digits! The big one-o! He hopes to be an inventor, a professional hockey player, a multi-millionaire, and a dad someday. He also plans, through healthy eating, exercise, and medical advancements, to live in three centuries. He's already got the 1900's and 2000's under his boys' size ten belt. I'm betting he'll reach that goal. I love him and have enjoyed the last ten years more than words can say!

Procrastination Does NOT Pay!

Last night I dropped two of my children off at basketball. My kind parents agreed to watch the game and drive the kids home afterward, leaving me free to drive my third child to his ice hockey practice. Once he was on the ice, I had an hour to myself to work on reading for my book club which would meet in less than 48 hours. Unfortunately, the book, Barry Unsworth's Land of Marvels, set in Iraq just before the outbreak of World War I, is not holding my interest. Truth be told, it never even caught my interest. So I told myself I would read just a little of Newsweek magazine and then right back to the book. Mistake!

The first article I read, "The Curse of Cursive" by Jessica Bennett, scared me. I was scared my fourth grade son would find it. Bennett argues in favor of letting penmanship, cursive writing, joined up letters, script, whatever you call it, die out. In this modern world of computers and Blackberries, it has lost its purpose she argues. She cites the 2006 SAT where just 15 percent of the test takers used cursive on the written section. Clearly my son's elementary school didn't get the memo and supporting him through his penmanship homework was like the glory days of Gitmo: torture. It is crucial that he not find this article as it shoots down all of the lame arguments I used to get him to complete the assignments.

Foolishly, I left Land of Marvels in my handbag and moved onto another article, this one on "sexting." Sexting?! The title of this heart warming piece is "Teens, Nude Photos, and the Law." It's written by Dahlia Lithwick and is sure to make parents nauseous. Sexting is the name for sending a nude or semi nude photo of oneself via cell phone. Let me quote from the article here to tell you that "One teenager in five reported having sent or posted naked photos of themselves" according to the National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy. One in five! (I apologize for all of the exclamation points but Holy Christmas!) Some people argue that kids have always been this stupid and this epidemic is only occurring due to the availability of technology. I disagree. Cavegirls had the technology to paint on the walls but you don't see many cave paintings of them flashing their boobs and grabbing their crotches. Can you imagine Shirley Temple or Judy Garland pulling a Miley Cyrus? And let me tell you, back in the 80s, my girlfriends and I never went to the pool or beach without a great big butt covering Tshirt that was only removed just before going in the water and immediately replaced upon coming out. Even if, through some miracle of time travel, we had gotten hold of cell phones, MySpace accounts and Facebook pages, there was no possible way we would photograph and forward our (perceived) flawed figures, especially not to boys we liked! No, I blame the times, Bratz dolls, thong underwear sold in little girl's size 6, and those hot pink toddler sweatpants that say "Sassy" and "Flirt" across the bottom. Whatever the reason for such gross stupidity on the part of these teens, here's the really scary bit: the senders and receivers are being charged with child pornography. Think about that as a parent. Not only do you have to face having a kid so dumb he or she sent naked self portraits by cell phone, but if convicted, you're the parent of a soon to be registered sex offender.

Obviously, I shut Newsweek like it was on fire, watched my sweet, innocent, boy with passable penmanship play a little hockey. Then I started back in on my book. You know, it really started to get better about 150 pages in. Maybe that's just in light of the alternative reading...