by Georgia Kaufman
I have recently come to terms with the fact that I may be the funniest person to ever walk the face of the Earth. Right now, you may be breathing out of your nose subconsciously as you do when you see something funny. You may also be slapping your knee, saying the phrase that we all used far too often in 2014: “that was a knee slapper.” But the reason I’m so nose-breathing-inducing, knee-slapping hilarious? Trauma.
My father, Bob Kaufman, was a well-known man throughout the town of Los Gatos. When I was six years old, he, unfortunately, passed away. Six-year-old Georgia couldn’t handle even trying to comprehend that great of a loss, so she turned to the next best thing: listening to other people say they understood what I was going through. Just kidding—that didn’t help at all. I turned to comedy.
I just recently started planning my future wedding playlist, and I have already decided that my Father-Daughter dance song is going to be Dancing On My Own by Calum Scott. And rightfully so – I will, in fact, be dancing on my own. If you’re “LOLing” or maybe “peeing your pants” or even “BOMNing” (breathing out [your] nose) right now, don’t feel bad. I have found that the best way to cope with my loss is with humor. And if you start your coping process with humor, maybe you’ll get enough practice to be funny in every situation you encounter, like me.
I am a huge fan of the coping mechanism that is comedy. I believe that dark humor is the superior source of comedic relief, and it is necessary for people to come across as funny. Trauma has actually forced me to come out of my shell and make a joke out of just about every single situation I am in. This has come in handy during times where I have felt too uncomfortable with my discussion partner (or as I like to call them, the Housewives to my Andy Cohen) to think of a new conversation topic. The easiest thing to do at that moment? Just shoot a joke into the conversation, and all will be well.
But an FYI to the newbies in comedy: Dad jokes are a waste of everyone’s time, let alone breath. That’s right. I just said it. And I know it may be tough to hear, all you Dads out there who may be reading this, but just by saying the words “awkward silence” will not alleviate the awkward atmosphere, nor will anybody be laughing, unless they have a severe loss of brain cells.
I’m kidding, of course, when I say I’m the funniest human in the world. I’m also kidding when I say humor is an excellent way to cope. If you need help, get help. But I, for one, am delighted with the fact that I refused to go to therapy as a child, as it has expanded my horizons in the superior branch of comedy: dark humor.