For my birthday a few weeks ago my family gave me a pair of glasses attached to a large plastic nose, heavy eyebrows and moustache. They must be trying to tell me something.
On the back of the package is written: “Not recommended for children under three years of age.” They have astutely concluded that since I have two adult daughters and seven grandchildren I must be old enough to qualify for this disguise.
The designers of these glasses intended them to make their wearer look ridiculous and the butt of hilarity.
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However, if one normally wears glasses and sports a substantial nose, as I do, some people might have difficulty telling when they’re supposed to laugh.
The attached eyebrows and moustache provide some assistance in this regard.
It’s getting harder to find what triggers people to laugh.
You start a joke about a rabbi, a priest and a pastor and everyone wonders which is going to be the fall guy.
You don’t make jokes about people with hare lips, about bossy wives, about immigrants with “funny” accents, about people of skin color other than white, about people who are unusually stupid.
As soon as you start a joke you can see your audience psychoanalyzing every phrase to determine your level of prejudice.
Perhaps I should save my glasses for the next time the grandchildren are over to play Rummoli.
