Perhaps for the fifth time, ever, I reread The Plague and I this week which was probably a mistake because Tom worked graveyard shift and had to sleep during the day--and well--I couldn't laugh out loud lest I wake him, but had to cover my mouth which made my stomach shake there upon my library floor and then I'd cry, put down the book and my glasses, then wipe my eyes. Then I'd turn the page, read, shake, cry, put down the book and my glasses, and wipe my eyes all over again.
Yes, this book is that funny.
It was rough, but oh, if laughter truly is good medicine perhaps The Plague and I explains why I've felt marvelously contented all week, with new eyes, even, which see humor in almost everything.
I also noticed that 'in the place between sleep and awake' (stole that from Hook) I'd think, "Better get up because Betty's still in her bed at the tuberculosis hospital and I must read her out of there." I do that with Wilder's, The Long Winter, also ("Must. Keep. Reading. Must free the Ingalls from their hunger and that dark, cold house so they can reach Spring and plenty.").
To me, that type of thinking is the sign of an excellent book, you know, when the story attaches itself to your brain and the biographical characters return to living.
Since this Real World of ours has become pretty unfunny, I'm thinking it behooves anyone interested in keeping their sense of humor to read as many funny books as they can find. I have now moved on to Betty's, Anybody Can Do Anything, one of my clear-as-day presents from God (I found my first edition copy at a thrift shop for only .50 cents).
I'm also laughing my way (from behind my hand as Tom sleeps) through seasons 2 and 3 of The Odd Couple, feeling the happy crinkles at the corners of my eyes while I watch.
Some stuffy, spoil-my-fun Christians/relatives/friends would pooh-pooh this whole idea of reading and watching tv for the benefits of laughter, they with their my-size-should-fit-everybody way of thinking that real laughter comes from spending time with only real people. But frankly? Life is too short, too precious to allow 'saddos' (as Betty called them) to yank me away from what works for me, or for me to feel guilty about my differences.
Besides, being a 100% introvert according to this online test, I'm thinking if books and tv shows cause me to roll on the floor, alone, with laughter and feel amazing afterward, well, that's just peachy, indeed. I'll take it. I'll enjoy it. And I'll reap the good, healthy benefits of it way down the sidewalk over into old age.
"A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." ... Proverbs 17:22
A house across the street from us. I like to pretend Betty MacDonald and her mother, sisters, brother and daughters live there. :)