Critics say that great humor must be grounded in truth;
otherwise it’s not going to be funny, at least not
lastingly funny. A case in point is one of the late, great
Henny Youngman’s funniest quips:
Doctor (speaking to patient): “I’ve got good
news and bad news, which do you want first?”
Patient: “I always want the good news
first.”
Doctor: “Well, the good news is you’ve got
twenty-four hours to live.”
Patient: “Twenty-four hours to live and
that’s the good news! What in hell could be the bad
news?”
Doctor: “I tried to reach you yesterday!”
In a way, my life this past year has been in the
same ballpark as Dr. Youngman’s patient. Last September I
lost my right eye to a virulent infection, but am getting
on with my life! In point of fact, it seems that it’s the
rest of the world that has to adjust to me, rather than
vice versa.
Take driving for instance: the other day I was
ever so slowly backing out of a shopping mall parking slot,
when the guy waiting for the space blew his horn – three
long blasts – leaned out of the window and yelled, “Will
you shake it up for Christ’s sake! What are you blind or
something?”
“As a matter of fact I am,” I yelled right back
Boy, did he ever shut up – not even a dirty look back!
He’ll think twice before he messes with me again.
My return to tennis is a bit more delicate. When
I make a bad line call now, my friends no longer feel
comfortable shouting: “check the mark or what are you
blind,” which is understandable. And conversely, I try to
be super cautious with my calls, so it all works out.
Though the other day during a change over one of the
player’s remarked (but, with a smile), “Gerry I get the
feeling that you must have been one of our lookouts at
Pearl Harbor.” So it’s not all bad, in fact my pro tells me
that if I practice diligently by the end of the year I
should be able to attain my previous level of mediocrity.
Something to look forward to.
Now back to the doctor’s office after my surgery when I
first got the news, good and bad, about my condition.
“Meister,” the doctor said after confirming my permanent
blindness. “Let me also give you the good news.”
“There’s good news here?” I asked quizzically
“Oh yes, most certainly,” he said, embracing me. “You
must remember one thing: you can no longer die a young
man!”
And ain’t that the truth!
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