Humor is the perfect antidote for almost anything. In life-threatening situations I find myself laughing as if danger was incognito. Once, when the breaks went out on a trip back down a mountain in Ruidoso, I sat in the backseat with this huge smile on my face the entire time. I don’t even remember being afraid. The other three passengers in the car, including the driver, were terrified. But I’ve always been like that, often to a default. When I found out that a guy I used to know was murdered, chopped up into pieces by the local butcher and thrown in the Mississippi River, I asked a friend who had gone to the funeral if it was open casket. For the record, the unfortunate victim was a very bad person, but my friend who attended the service was not amused. I can’t help it sometimes. So, humor in bad taste, sarcasm, and nervous laughter are just some of the ways in which I tackle life.
I’ll write a verse or two before I sleep, and then it’s off to “that other place” where ghosts come to life, fears come to stalk, and anxieties come to take the shape of nightmares.