REASON #1:
I was seven years old and it was the last day of our Spring Break, which meant a week off at the end of March, when it is still cold and wet in New York. On this last day of Spring Break, I had somehow developed some sort of joke in my head. I had spent most of the day in my pajamas, playing with my toys, by myself in my bedroom. I had built myself an “apartment” in my closet. Sometimes I would go inside the closet and shut the door and use a flashlight to read an encyclopedia. My uncle had given me a whole set for Christmas. I would grab any encyclopedia and open to any page and I would read, absorbing tons of knowledge but making little sense out of any of it.
On this particular day, I read about Aurora Borealis and its beautiful light show. But what struck me with more wonder than the actual phenomena was its peculiar name. I repeated the name over and over in my head. It was playful sounding, it made me laugh. And somehow, I made up a joke in my head about a girl named Alice and her sister. They are about to go see Aurora Borealis, and Alice wants to bring her friend, who coincidentally is named Aurora, but Alice’s sister doesn’t want Aurora to go and says, “but Aurora bores me, Alice”.
I thought the joke was brilliant, but it was confusing for me to tell. So I practiced it all day long, attempting to memorize it perfect. I wrote it down, recited it in the mirror, rehearsed it for my parents, tape recorded myself and then listened to the tape, performed it for all my stuffed animals individually.
I imagined myself telling this joke in school on Monday. I fantasized about all the kids thinking it was hilarious, even the teachers finding it funny; everyone amazed by my wit.
But on Monday, during science time, when I raised my hand and tried to tell the joke, the wordplay got all confused and came out wrong. I stumbled and I fumbled and by the time I finally got to the punchline, the joke was a complete dud. Nobody laughed. The teacher said I was “off topic” and all the kids looked at me strangely.
The non-reaction from my peers was neither extreme nor overt, yet I took it very personally. I sulked for the rest of the day and said very little. I felt like an embarrassed failure. I never repeated the joke again.
REASON #2:
It was right after the Challenger Space Shuttle crash. I remember watching the Punky Brewster episode about the incident, and she got let out of school early. At my school, we didn’t get let out early. Instead the entire school gathered around one small black & white television set in the gymnasium.
A few days later in class, the teacher asked, “Does anyone know what N.A.S.A. stands for?”
I raised my hand and, feeling clever, recited something I had overheard my dad say, “Need Another Seven Astronauts?”
As usual, I expected the teacher to crack up at my “mature” joke, but that did not happen. The teacher seemed a bit confused by my joke, and called on another student to answer the question. I turned red, thinking that perhaps my adult joke was also more offensive than I realized.
A moment later, a girl raised her hand and said she felt sick and had to go to the nurse. I became convinced that it was my “sick joke” which caused her reaction. I felt guilty about having said something so disgusting in class that it actually made another student get sick.
That was the last time I ever told a joke.
