First Laughs

Where did I begin?

 

 

Well, I'm not going that far back. Besides, who wants to see that? Not me. 

It was September 2nd, 1959. My mother was in labour. It was my fault; the baby was me, and even though I was born five days before Labour Day, I was born on Labour Day. How I entered the world was a little strange. 

Ready for the dance?

It wasn't her first rodeo, and I wasn't the first clown; I was to be red nose number five.  My journey started in a hospital shower. That's when she saw it. My foot. Hanging out. My right foot was ready for the show. They must have looked down and said, Oh no. There I was doing the hokey pokey. I had my left foot in and my right foot out. They must have pushed my right foot in and shook it all about. Turned me upside down, and that's when I came out. That's what it's all about. The hokey pokey and the twist were my first dance moves. Throw in the mashed potato and the crawl, and you sum up my life as an infant.  Looking back, I wonder. Was I a funny baby, or did I just have gas? I had questions. 

Feed Me!

I had to ask my sisters one important question, and I don't know why.  Was I bottle-fed, or was I breastfed?  Why did I need to know? Maybe it was a Freud thing. Sorry, Mom, I love you, but I'm not in love with you. In hindsight, I'm glad to have no memory of this. Apparently, I was bottle-fed, and the bottle was filled with Pablum. My first protein shake. Luckily, other options were available as I got older. I want to clarify here that Ovaltine is not Nestle Quick. And just because I like peanut butter doesn't mean I have to like crust. Crust was for the birds, and at my house it was, literally. Eventually, I grew up. I ate big boy food and played with big boy toys.

Cowboys and Crusaders

I had a big plastic riding horse with springs attached to the hooves. Hours and hours of bouncy joy. My parents thought that the novelty would wear off eventually. Nope, just paint. I spent hours on a galloping horse that went nowhere, watching the Lone Ranger on TV. I never thought liking men in masks could be a bad thing. Eventually, I realized I wasn't going anywhere, so I gave up on the Lone Ranger and gave the horse to my younger brother. I had a new masked man to watch, and he had a cool cape and an even cooler belt. This guy could accessorize and fight crime at the same time. It was around this time that I discovered improv. When my mother wasn't looking, I would run into the Batcave, the bathroom and tie a towel around my neck. I was the household Caped Crusader. 

Finding my voice

The art of impression started with Looney Tunes. I didn't have a rabbit or a cat outfit, so there were no costume changes. But I could talk like Bugs Bunny and Sylvester on command. Yosemite Sam and Tweety followed closely thereafter. My audience, mostly kids, had challenged me, and I was up for it. Soon I was challenged to do Muppet voices. I do a killer Kermit. I don't think I should use killer and Kermit in the same sentence. My Kermit was good. My audiences weren't always kids. My father and I were big fans of anything slapstick. Peter Sellers was our favourite. My Inspector Clouseau is top-notch, just ask my brother-in-law.

What! No Way! Maybe?

I was once outed because I could do my teacher's voice and mannerisms to a tee. One day, he was late for school. There is never a bad time to do an impression. So, I thought.  There I was in front of the class, and I very flamboyantly lectured on T accounts.  At the back of the class was my sister in-law’s neighbour. She was an older lady and somewhat homophobic, and later that day, she outed me to my sister in-law. My impression left an impression on her. Maybe I was too good. 

Later that day, my family asked me to come out with it. Is there something you want to tell us? I had thought about it, but would never just come out with it. Besides, denial and suppression had worked for so long. What? I asked. Then the words came out. Are you gay? I couldn't believe it. No! I said, Where did you get that idea? My sister-in-law, one of many who participated in the intervention, spoke up. My neighbour is in your class and saw you this afternoon. I ranted that I was doing an impression of my teacher.  I turned around pissed off and went to hide in my room. In hindsight, I would have saved forty years of fear and shame if I had only said maybe. Lesson learned. I'm just glad my teacher didn't find out.

 

On The Road with Me

 

Every day is like a fresh page waiting for words.  This page is a place for a song, a memory of my youth or something funny along the road of life. This is what I write about. I have never taken life too seriously, and that's no joke. I hope my stories make you smile, chuckle or laugh.