Today we’ve reached a major milestone. This essay is the 1,000th humor column I have written for the Republican-American newspaper. (Although the phrase “I have written” is not exactly correct, since I’m only on the third sentence, and I’ve got to type out about 550 more words before I can employ the past tense. On the other hand, I was an Engineering major who got a C-minus in the only English class I took, so I’m not really an expert at grammatical tensification.)
When an editor informed me that my humor column would be a regular feature each and every week, my first thought was, “Hey, that’s great!” My second thought was, “Oh no, I’ve got nothing written for next week, and the eight fill-in columns used up all my ideas.” That was the beginning of my delightful relationship with insomnia, and the regular episodes of suddenly being wide awake at 2 a.m., and muttering to myself, “What am I gonna write about this week? Umm, I got nothing.”
I look at this column kind of like a baseball game. If three out of every 10 essays are funny, then I’m hitting .300 and I should make the all-star team. If four out of every 10 essays are funny, then I’m hitting .400, Hall of Fame material. I understand that three successes out of every 10 attempts does not apply to a lot of activities, for example, Lasik eye surgery, landing airplanes, or trying to keep the baby from rolling off the changing table.
Anyway, I think my percentage has increased a little bit over the years as I’ve been able to develop my craft, figure out what does and does not work, and most importantly, learn how to turn my computer on. Hopefully, the next 1,000 columns will be a little bit funnier — except in a certain home in Naugatuck.