Years ago, in March 1985, I attended a Humor and Creativity in Therapy conference in San Francisco in that section known as "Japan Town." While I was there, I wandered around the little Japanese shops and found one where they carve the little soapstone stamps, known as Hanko, that Japanese artists use to sign their paintings in red. I really wanted one (they were reasonably priced), so I asked the man in charge if he would make one for me that said, "A man who heals with laughter." The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Him: "No."
Me: "Why not?"
Him: "Because it might not mean anything in Japanese."
(long silence)
Me: "You mean you can't write that phrase in Japanese?"
Him: "We could, but it might mean something bad."
Me: "But I don't even read Japanese!"
Him: "Then why do you want the stamp?"
(longer silence)
I eventually gave up, reconciled to my plight of never owning a Hanko stamp. Craig told me later that there are certain mental paths the Japanese cannot walk along. I think I found one.
As a result of that conference, I began writing a humor journal, recording the funniest things that happen to me each day. It has been a hit and miss proposition, but out of that effort came my 120+ page joke book that everyone loves.
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1 comment:
Hey Dad! That was a funny story. I had never heard that one before. I don't even remember you going to San Fran back then, either. I guess I was too busy making up random things to remember about my childhood that never really happened. About the ring from the pawn shop comment, you did say it. I remember it well, because I was sitting right there. Geoff remembers it too. It was right after we were discussing how Geoff and I are "related" by marriage. It was funny to us, but I am sure you didn't think anything of it, so you don't remember. It did happen, though. It's OK, Dad, you are almost 57 for heaven's sake! Just kidding - I love you!
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