I go out to dinner with a bunch of friends to this awesome Lebanese place I’ve meaning to try- MOUSTACHE!

Calie is still in town visiting from Boston and if I hadn’t mentioned it already, she’s a funny lady. For most of my childhood she was simultaneously the funniest girl i’d EVER known and the best girl at sports i’d EVER seen. Even though there were only 5 girls in our class, and I think one of them might’ve had muscular dystrophy, Calie was and still is a lady legend of our generation.

Midway through dinner she picks up the oversized barely cooked leek that garnished her entree and for no discernible reason yells to everyone, “Who dares me to put this whole thing in my mouth?!!”

What makes people want to be funny?

For something that occupies SOOOO much of my time, I rarely actually think about WHY I want to be funny. For as long as I can remember, going back to early grade school, I’ve been the kid shoving strange things in my mouth, making weird voices, dressing up for no reason and sarcastically tearing down anyone showing weakness.

Why do I do these things?

There are better things to be than the funny one. Why didn’t I want to be the brave one? Or the kind one? Or the skateboarding inventor one?!

But somehow early on my Darwinian lizard brain told me “Make them laugh or they will eat you!”

It’s basic science really. If you put in front of a bear a salmon and a salmon covered in George Carlin DVDs, the bear will eat the regular salmon every time. Bears fear word-play.

FUCK.

See what I did there? That was a joke… (barely)… As soon as I was about to make some actual emotional discovery about weakness and the terrifying prospect of opening up to people I shut that door and make a joke out of it.

So then when you get several funny people in a room together (or an entire community of them) just imagine the exponential amount of semi-conscious emotional doors closing every second. All of us navigating our way around the dangerous or uncomfortable or honest back to the safe ground of laughter. It’s a thin weird line to live on and we funny types have chosen it to be our home.

Which brings me back to Calie and the giant leek she’s about to shove in her mouth…

“DOOOOOO IT!!!!” everyone shouts!

Her lizard brain kicks in and like a fish in water she just knows what to do; the barely cooked onion gets shoved in her mouth.

Everyone laughs like she knew they would. Aahhh, safety.

This is of course followed by every funny person’s inevitable moment of regret.

Why do I do these things?

We finish an amazing meal. Middle Eastern mint teas, puffy pita breads, extra smoky baba ganoush, split pea soup with crispy sauteed onions, grilled chicken and baby lamb flanks (heavy on the lemon, garlic and cumin marinade, just like my Israeli aunt used to make), some spicy lamb sausage with tahini & tzakziki yogurt sauce, an amazing ouzi (chicken, veggies, raisins, almonds & basmati rice all cooked into a filo dough ball- whoa) and some sticky sweet baklava to finish it off.

We’re all sitting around pretty contented and happy, when someone points out that the couple sitting behind me has been giving us nasty looks the whole night for being too loud.

If you didn’t know, Loud is funny.

So now I’ve got some pissed off people breathing down my neck making everyone uncomfortable. I should stand up for me and my friends and tell these snobs to back off! I should do something even the slightest bit courageous and confront someone older and bigger than me! I should FINALLY be the tough one!

“Who wants to see me pretend to be pregnant!?” my lizard brain makes me say instead.

Ahhhh survival. It’s better than being dead.

MOUSTACHE! (I added the exclamation mark for effect): 90 Bedford St. off 7th Ave, near Barrow.