Laughter releases endorphins; stress-reducing and relaxing chemicals resulting in a sense of well-being. Our laughter triggers the release of these super neuro-transmitters that can alleviate pain and depression. We have a sense of euphoria and are far less anxious. Our immune systems are strengthened and we can pass any drug test.
Just as yoga and meditation focus on our breathing, the physical production of laughter through muscular effort seems to be key in this positive activity. Our deliberate manipulation of positive energy for our own good and subsequently others is successful. Laughter, is, in fact, often contagious. Even if you do not understand the language spoken or if you do not completely hear the punch line, when others start laughing, you are physically and mentally compelled to jump in.
Groucho lines:
A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five.
I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it.
I sent the club a wire stating: Please accept my resignation. I don't want to belong to any club that will accept me as a member.
One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I'll never know.
Dorothy Parker lines:
This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.
That would be a good thing for them to cut on my tombstone; Wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment.
I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true.
Abbott and Costello's Who's On First , Bob Newhart's new security guard at The Empire State Building seeing King Kong outside, Ellen Degeneres' phone call with God, Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the phone operator or Edith Ann the child, Flip Wilson as Geraldine or George Carlin's seven dirty words will prompt those endorphins right out. SNL 's Church lady, Coneheads, Land shark, Mr. Bill, Weekend update, Roseanne Roseannadanna, Gumby, Father Guido Sarducci, Stefon, Spartan Spirit Cheerleaders, Debbie Downer and The Target Lady are just a few characters and sketches to initiate your hysteria.
Things that evoke laughter differ from individual to individual. The very thought of Groucho Marx, Robin Williams, Wanda Sykes, Whoopi Goldberg, Jim Gaffigan, Kathleen Madigan, Ellen DeGeneres, Bob Hope, Jack Benny, George Burns, Amy Poehler, Tina Fey,Bob Newhart, Bill Murray, Gilda Radner, John Belushi, Dan Akroyd, Mel Brooks, Jimmy Fallon, Johnny Carson, David Letterman, Joan Rivers, Jane Curtin, Larraine Newman, Garrett Morris, Chevy Chase, Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Richard Pryor, Gene Wilder, Foster Brooks,George Carlin, Carol Burnett, Tim Conway, Harvey Korman, Brother Dave Gardner, Betty White, Vicki Lawrence,Steve Martin, Jon Stewart, Martin Short, Sarah Silverman, Chelsea Handler, John Candy, Susie Essman, Billy Crystal, Moms Mabley, Cheech and Chong, Lily Tomlin, Minnie Pearl, Rita Rudner, Flip Wilson, David Spade, Henny Youngman, Rodney Dangerfield, Phyllis Diller , Dana Carvey, Will Ferrell, Jonathon Winters, Adam Sandler, Louis C.K.,Ricky Gervais, Steve Carell or Pee Wee Herman may make you laugh out loud. The writings of Neil Simon, Larry David, Mike Nichols and Elaine May, Carl Reiner or Lena Dunham may make you chuckle. Whatever it is or whomever it is--seek them out.
Have a Christopher Guest film festival. This Is Spinal Tap, Best In Show, Waiting For Guffman, A Mighty Wind... Or a John Cleese festival : A Fish Called Wanda, and The Monty Python series of films. Watch some old Eddie Murphy or Goldie Hawn films. Search any best comedy lists and you will find: Some Like It Hot, Tootsie, The Big Lebowski, Caddyshack, Animal House, Ghostbusters, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, City Slickers, My Cousin Vinny, Arthur, Airplane, Duck Soup, Young Frankenstein, The Birdcage, MASH, Adam's Rib, Bringing Up Baby, Trading Places, Beverly Hills Cop, The Odd Couple, Plaza Suite, Foul Play, The Money Pit, Private Benjamin, Stir Crazy, Vacation, Best In Show, The Princess Bride, Mrs. Doubtfire, Jumping Jack Flash, My Big Fat Greek Wedding and countless more. Stay inside and enjoy the air conditioning and develop your own list and most importantly, laugh.
Uncle Remus wrote about our "laughing place". It was such an enviable paradise that Brer Rabbit used its existence to lure Brer Fox and Brer Bear down a path that led to his escape. Uncle Albert sang about his love of laughter in Mary Poppins. He laughs so hard and with such gusto, that he is elevated to the ceiling.
I love to laugh
Loud and long and clear
I love to laugh
It's getting
worse every year
The more I laugh, the more I fill with glee
And the
more the glee
The more I'm a merrier me, it's embarrassing
The more I'm
a merrier me
Some people laugh through their noses
Sounding
something like this, dreadful
Some people laugh through their teeth goodness
sake
Hissing and fizzing like snakes
Not at all attractive to my way of
thinking
Some laugh too fast
Some only blast
Others, they
twitter like birds
You know you're as bad as he is
Then there's the
kind
What can't make up their mind
When things strike me as funny
I can't hide it inside
And squeak as the squeakelers do
I've got to
let go with a ho ho ho
And a ha ha ha too
We love to laugh
Loud
and long and clear
We love to laugh
So everybody can hear
The
more you laugh
The more you fill with glee
And the more the glee
The
more we're a merrier we
*
Breathe in. Breathe out. Laugh out loud. Laugh with such enthusiasm that you may become airborne. If you enjoy physical comedy like spit-takes, pratfalls, clowns, pies in the face or exploding cannisters then search for those types of comedy. Laugh like no one is watching. Laugh like you do not care. If its good enough for the hyenas, its good enough for us.
* I Love To Laugh lyrics by Richard Sherman and Robert Sherman, Disney
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Hoist Up The Jon B Sail
One final perfect sunset. We breathe in the ocean air and fill our lungs and souls with memories of saltwater and that paradise. It was more than your ordinary beach house. Over the years it had taken on a life of its own. The seagulls screech one last goodbye and we pack ourselves into our vehicles and drive away. As we glance in the rear view mirror, it all comes flashing back.
Four friends driving down Highway 98 in search of a structure strong enough to house their two families including five kids. They wanted a place with an enviable location convenient for the countless walks back and forth from the beach. They were searching for a place that would welcome friends and relatives for many years. The couples had visited this beach many times with friends and already knew it was the desired destination. They knew the ideal beach. Now they simply needed to discover the house.
The year was 1973 and the music charts were topped with Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Ole Oak Tree, Bad,Bad Leroy Brown, Killing Me Softly With His Song, Let's Get It On and My Love. A gallon of gas cost 40 cents. Secretariat won the Triple Crown and Billie Jean King defeated Bobby Riggs in the tennis battle of the sexes. The United States withdrew troops from Vietnam and the World Trade Center in New York became the tallest building in the world. The same year Jonathon Livingston Seagull (originally published in 1970) topped the Publishers' Weekly list of bestselling novels in the United States. So these four are cruising down the road with the ocean calling them and their futures on the horizon.
A turn down 36th Street proved to be predestined. The fab four found their beach house and collectively named it The Jon B after the Beach Boys recording of Sloop Jon B and as a reference to Jonathon Livingston Seagull.
Their investment proved to be an integral part of childhood and adult memories for generations to come.
“The shape of my life is, of course, determined by many things; my background and childhood, my mind and its education, my conscience and its pressures, my heart and its desires.” -Anne Morrow Lindbergh, A Gift From the Sea
It became a resting place. It was a haven for celebrations, vacations and holidays. It was a safe harbor for broken hearts and tested souls. The house embraced us when we returned. It girded us when we received devastating news. It swayed and bent and grew with us.
Cold beers, wine and a Bloody Mary or two. Fish fresh from the day's catch cleaned while swimsuits hung out to dry. Sandcastles were built. Seashells were collected. Suntans were secured. Margaritas were poured. Feet scorched on the hot pavement when you were in too much of a hurry to reach the white sands. Early morning walks on the shore. Bait in the refrigerator. Bait in the freezer. Bait everywhere.
Fireworks. Champagne. Birthday cakes. Long days sitting and talking. Listening. Sharing. Children chasing crabs. Crashing waves. Palm trees and the ocean breeze. Soft drinks. Beach-side picnics and bonfires. Evening walks on the nearby pier. Too many majestic breathtaking sunsets to count. Hamburgers and hot dogs. Ice cream. Low country boils. Board games. T-shirts. Bourbon. Coolers. Sandbars. Shrimp. Steamed crab claws. Key lime pie. Oysters. Sandpipers. Flip flops. Sandals. Beach balls,umbrellas, towels, chairs and floats. Football in the sand. Tossing frisbees. Kites. Fishing tournaments. Photo contests. Bare feet. Happy hours. Happy days.
Casting a line in hopes of connecting with grouper, pompano, king or spanish mackerel or anything worthy of a fish story. Yelling fish on! with an enormous amount of satisfaction. Watching porpoise jump in the distance. Cooling off in the emerald waters. Posing for photos with the catch of the day.
Learning patience when you hold vigil for a crab to surface or stand for hours anticipating that tug on your fishing line.
“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.” -Anne Morrow Lindbergh, A Gift From The Sea
The Wonder Bar. Killer Seafood. Half Shells. The Fish House. Mexico Beach Grocery. Lookout Lounge. Toucans. The Shell Shack. Gulf Foods and Gifts. Beach Pizza. Two Crabs. Listening to the Beach Boys, Neil Diamond , Otis Redding, The Tams, Jimmy Buffett and Luke Bryan. Day trips to Apalachicola, St. George Island, Cape San Blas, Port St. Joe and Panama City were often part of the weekends. Snorkeling. Swimming. Scalloping. Fishing. Shopping. Indian Pass Raw Bar. Dockside Marina and Restaurant. Karaoke. Marquardt's Marina. Launching a boat at Presnell's Bayside Marina. Sunset cruises.
Joe Mamas Pizza. The Owl Cafe. The Gibson Inn. Sunset Coastal Grill. Drinks and dinner at Watermark. Margaritaville. Regardless of how far away we ventured, we were always eager to return. Upon our return the house was still standing awaiting our entry. Every time we survived a sunburn, lost fish, "may day" on sea or flooding pontoon boat, this house was there to greet us.
It was a refuge from the noise and chaos of the world. It was a place for contemplation and meditation and a place to simply be.
“You will begin to touch heaven, Jonathan, in the moment that you touch perfect speed. And that isn't flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn't have limits. Perfect speed, my son, is being there.” -Richard Bach, Jonathon Livingston Seagull
Hurricane Opal knocked us around in 1995. Glass was blown out by waves. Sand and water was blown in. The storm collapsed other beach houses but not this one. The house would not be defeated. The electricity remained on. Hoist up the Jon B sail.
The walls stand bare now. Posters of past fishing tournaments came down. Comfy couches and fish of all colors have been removed. A piece of driftwood had adorned the window. Stained glass once hung here. A lone fishing rod and reel had leaned against the door beckoning for you to take it. Not to be forgotten as you exited toward the sea, it had been strategically placed. Shelves with shells of all sizes collected through the years comes down from above the fireplace. Fish nets and poles and tackle are now gone. Maps, sketches and photographs are boxed. Goggles,visors,caps and flippers are bundled. Seashell mobiles, lighthouses and sandpiper carvings all packed. Over forty years of sandy treasures and remembrances tucked away.
That one glance in the rear view mirror brought it all back.
You can still hear children laughing. Adults laughing. Generations of the original two families have come here. It was a beach home not a house. Generations of other families have been invited here too. And they will all remember those days forever with gratitude that they were once a part of the Jon B.
*So hoist up the Jon B's sail
See how the main sail sets
Call for the Captain ashore
Let me go home, let me go home
I want to go home, let me go home...
* (Partial lyrics from The Beach Boys 1966 recording of Sloop Jon B. The Beach Boys' version was influenced by The Kingston Trio's 1958 adaptation. Other renditions include The Weavers' 1950 The Wreck of the Jon B. American writer, editor and poet Carl Sandburg included the first 3 verses and chorus of The Jon B Sails in his collection of folksongs, American Songbag. The original Jon B Sails is a Bahamian folk song transcribed in 1916 by Richard Le Gallienne.)
Four friends driving down Highway 98 in search of a structure strong enough to house their two families including five kids. They wanted a place with an enviable location convenient for the countless walks back and forth from the beach. They were searching for a place that would welcome friends and relatives for many years. The couples had visited this beach many times with friends and already knew it was the desired destination. They knew the ideal beach. Now they simply needed to discover the house.
The year was 1973 and the music charts were topped with Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Ole Oak Tree, Bad,Bad Leroy Brown, Killing Me Softly With His Song, Let's Get It On and My Love. A gallon of gas cost 40 cents. Secretariat won the Triple Crown and Billie Jean King defeated Bobby Riggs in the tennis battle of the sexes. The United States withdrew troops from Vietnam and the World Trade Center in New York became the tallest building in the world. The same year Jonathon Livingston Seagull (originally published in 1970) topped the Publishers' Weekly list of bestselling novels in the United States. So these four are cruising down the road with the ocean calling them and their futures on the horizon.
A turn down 36th Street proved to be predestined. The fab four found their beach house and collectively named it The Jon B after the Beach Boys recording of Sloop Jon B and as a reference to Jonathon Livingston Seagull.
Their investment proved to be an integral part of childhood and adult memories for generations to come.
“The shape of my life is, of course, determined by many things; my background and childhood, my mind and its education, my conscience and its pressures, my heart and its desires.” -Anne Morrow Lindbergh, A Gift From the Sea
It became a resting place. It was a haven for celebrations, vacations and holidays. It was a safe harbor for broken hearts and tested souls. The house embraced us when we returned. It girded us when we received devastating news. It swayed and bent and grew with us.
Cold beers, wine and a Bloody Mary or two. Fish fresh from the day's catch cleaned while swimsuits hung out to dry. Sandcastles were built. Seashells were collected. Suntans were secured. Margaritas were poured. Feet scorched on the hot pavement when you were in too much of a hurry to reach the white sands. Early morning walks on the shore. Bait in the refrigerator. Bait in the freezer. Bait everywhere.
Fireworks. Champagne. Birthday cakes. Long days sitting and talking. Listening. Sharing. Children chasing crabs. Crashing waves. Palm trees and the ocean breeze. Soft drinks. Beach-side picnics and bonfires. Evening walks on the nearby pier. Too many majestic breathtaking sunsets to count. Hamburgers and hot dogs. Ice cream. Low country boils. Board games. T-shirts. Bourbon. Coolers. Sandbars. Shrimp. Steamed crab claws. Key lime pie. Oysters. Sandpipers. Flip flops. Sandals. Beach balls,umbrellas, towels, chairs and floats. Football in the sand. Tossing frisbees. Kites. Fishing tournaments. Photo contests. Bare feet. Happy hours. Happy days.
Casting a line in hopes of connecting with grouper, pompano, king or spanish mackerel or anything worthy of a fish story. Yelling fish on! with an enormous amount of satisfaction. Watching porpoise jump in the distance. Cooling off in the emerald waters. Posing for photos with the catch of the day.
Learning patience when you hold vigil for a crab to surface or stand for hours anticipating that tug on your fishing line.
“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.” -Anne Morrow Lindbergh, A Gift From The Sea
The Wonder Bar. Killer Seafood. Half Shells. The Fish House. Mexico Beach Grocery. Lookout Lounge. Toucans. The Shell Shack. Gulf Foods and Gifts. Beach Pizza. Two Crabs. Listening to the Beach Boys, Neil Diamond , Otis Redding, The Tams, Jimmy Buffett and Luke Bryan. Day trips to Apalachicola, St. George Island, Cape San Blas, Port St. Joe and Panama City were often part of the weekends. Snorkeling. Swimming. Scalloping. Fishing. Shopping. Indian Pass Raw Bar. Dockside Marina and Restaurant. Karaoke. Marquardt's Marina. Launching a boat at Presnell's Bayside Marina. Sunset cruises.
Joe Mamas Pizza. The Owl Cafe. The Gibson Inn. Sunset Coastal Grill. Drinks and dinner at Watermark. Margaritaville. Regardless of how far away we ventured, we were always eager to return. Upon our return the house was still standing awaiting our entry. Every time we survived a sunburn, lost fish, "may day" on sea or flooding pontoon boat, this house was there to greet us.
It was a refuge from the noise and chaos of the world. It was a place for contemplation and meditation and a place to simply be.
“You will begin to touch heaven, Jonathan, in the moment that you touch perfect speed. And that isn't flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn't have limits. Perfect speed, my son, is being there.” -Richard Bach, Jonathon Livingston Seagull
Hurricane Opal knocked us around in 1995. Glass was blown out by waves. Sand and water was blown in. The storm collapsed other beach houses but not this one. The house would not be defeated. The electricity remained on. Hoist up the Jon B sail.
The walls stand bare now. Posters of past fishing tournaments came down. Comfy couches and fish of all colors have been removed. A piece of driftwood had adorned the window. Stained glass once hung here. A lone fishing rod and reel had leaned against the door beckoning for you to take it. Not to be forgotten as you exited toward the sea, it had been strategically placed. Shelves with shells of all sizes collected through the years comes down from above the fireplace. Fish nets and poles and tackle are now gone. Maps, sketches and photographs are boxed. Goggles,visors,caps and flippers are bundled. Seashell mobiles, lighthouses and sandpiper carvings all packed. Over forty years of sandy treasures and remembrances tucked away.
That one glance in the rear view mirror brought it all back.
You can still hear children laughing. Adults laughing. Generations of the original two families have come here. It was a beach home not a house. Generations of other families have been invited here too. And they will all remember those days forever with gratitude that they were once a part of the Jon B.
*So hoist up the Jon B's sail
See how the main sail sets
Call for the Captain ashore
Let me go home, let me go home
I want to go home, let me go home...
* (Partial lyrics from The Beach Boys 1966 recording of Sloop Jon B. The Beach Boys' version was influenced by The Kingston Trio's 1958 adaptation. Other renditions include The Weavers' 1950 The Wreck of the Jon B. American writer, editor and poet Carl Sandburg included the first 3 verses and chorus of The Jon B Sails in his collection of folksongs, American Songbag. The original Jon B Sails is a Bahamian folk song transcribed in 1916 by Richard Le Gallienne.)
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