True Confessions of a Humorist
Come. Sit. Stay. And I’ll tell you the story of my life. Just kidding. I wouldn’t do that to anyone kind enough to visit my place. But to establish my credibility, I’ve got to tell you where I’m coming from.
When I was a little guy, adults were always asking: “Jackie, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Sometimes I just said, “Bigger.” Other times I said, “How the hell should I know? I’m only five years old.” But now I do know: I want to write humor and help others do it, too.
After over forty years of writing and producing all types of marketing communications materials–and at the same time working as a belly-to-belly sales rep–I had an epiphany: I would rather make people laugh than make them buy stuff.
I wish it hadn’t taken so long to see the light. I’m not bitching, though; I was also gathering material.
So now here I am telling people how to write humor. Audacious? Not really, because I’m simply telling others how some of the best do it. And without the slightest trace of modesty, I also offer some of my material that I think is funny. Ah, and here’s the rub; you might not think it’s funny—but somebody will. Nevertheless, my offerings can still make a point, even when not thigh-slapping, rip-snorters.
I have a bawdy sense of humor. Not everyone likes my ‘lite raunchy dissing’ style. It actually offends some, and I don’t like to be offensive; and so, I rationalize that I write for those with a bit of ornery in their soul. There’s plenty of squeaky-clean good material available for those with different tastes.
I grew up in a country saloon. I didn’t just hang out there. It was my dad’s place. Most of the customers were colorful regulars who came every day. There were always plenty of good stories and lots of raucous laughter. Until I started school, it was my day-care center.
My dad was a natural story teller. He didn’t just tell jokes. He took on the persona of the characters in his stories, mimicked their voices, posture and mannerisms. His was a friendly humor. He laughed at man’s foibles, but it was not cruel laughter. He was a kind, gentle man with a right cross that could flatten a drunk who could hardly stand. But, he never had to use it.
Before I got so darn busy making a living, I spent four years in the Navy, then earned my B.S at Temple University in Philadelphia, PA. I majored in advertising, journalism, marketing and how to stay awake in night school.
I do hope you’ll stick around and come back often. Meanwhile, check out Valuable Resources. (If you buy something, I’ll get a commission.)
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Filed under: Insights & Opinions, Jack's Portfolio, Personal Stuff, Writing Technique