I love to laugh. I have a big laugh. It annoys some people. It is contagious to others.

I remember year ago, in a greasy spoon in Koloa, sitting with a happy group at a large table. It was a wet, happy feast. Chilled wine. Juicy hot  chicken bites to snack on. Crispy hunks of buttery french bread to crunch.

We were all laughing so hard-I’ve forgotten about what, me the loudest,-we caught the attention of a grumpy looking pair of blue-eyed pale  faces-obviously touristy types-who frowned and glared and finally called the waitress and sent her to our table complaining about the ‘racket’. Feeling in a very affluent mood, I sent a message back telling this pair I’d pay for their dinner if they’d skedaddle. They did.

When they huffed out, everyone at our table got up and applauded. We stood and laughed until the tears ran down. Everyone else in the place did, too. I left the waitress a healthy tip.

Bet they were from the south. Arkansas? Hope they left and never came back.

But I don’t want to discuss laughter in the sense of what makes us laugh. This will not be about our sense of humor, but the physical, mental, spiritual-if you like the word-benefits from the laughter process. I’ve learned that just going through the sound and body-laughter- movements causes an increase in pain resistance, a rise in endorphin levels, and, surprise surprise, also increases the power to undermine authority.

No wonder most religions frown on laughing in church.

It also seems your mind is not aware you are laughing for real or faking it. Like a physical activity-singing or dancing-good chemical changes take place in the body.

As an actress I learned to laugh with my whole body. It isn’t just a sound that comes out of your mouth, laughter is a physical activity. Your shoulders, your tummy, your head do their thing. Which means, if the damn dog has eaten your dinner while you were not looking, if you howl with laughter- and shake, shake, shake, señora, shake it all the time- you’ll feel better about it.

Beats kicking the dog and throwing a fit.  You can always fix a peanut butter sandwich and share it with the silly bulge-belly canine.

Last Monday, in our favorite Mexican dive in Lihue, my editor, Kimo, and I got in a laughing match that set the entire room off. Diners. Waiters. Cooks. Bartenders. Owner in a bright red blouse. No pale faces here. We were laughing so hard we were crying. Munching. Sipping. Drooling.  Dripping hoots of earth shaking laughter.

All because Kimo was giving me orders- the audacity- as my editor and publisher, about the length of my column that appears once a week-on Classic Wednesday in his blog

You talk about resisting authority.

Today doesn’t count.


One Response

  1. Love it! ;D)


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