Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Laughing through Life

I’m laughing my way through life.  Earthly existence can be full of such sorrow and pain, and even a privileged male Caucasian primate living in the jungle of opulence, such as myself, can succumb to the weight of the world.  Viator is my name, and for a reason, but too often the path leads through what my German friends would call a Jammerthal, or vale of tears.  Laughing is probably overstating the case; in fact it’s downright incorrect.  I depend on my wit and idiosyncratic sense of humor as a coping mechanism.  I need to amuse myself.  Granted, sometimes other biped mammals don’t find me amusing, and it probably doesn’t help my case when I’m cracking jokes at a funeral.  I’ve learned through the grapevine and unguarded comments that work colleagues consider me rather socially awkward and certainly a loner.  Well, excuse me for living!  So I march to the beat of a different drum?  Whatever oddities I might exhibit, though, keep in mind that I’m just trying to cope.