Isn't laughter one of the greatest gifts God gave us? We're the only species on earth that have this ability. Sharing a good laugh makes us feel connected...much like a really good cry (another ability reserved exclusively for human beings).

I was down in Florida visiting my parents when I came upon an interesting factoid claiming an average four year old laughs about 400 times a day while an average adult laughs only about 15 times a day. I was curious how many times my dad thought he laughed in a day. He figured he and my mom laughed at least 100 times a day. My dad was not prone to exaggeration. In fact, to my knowledge, he never exaggerated at all. Perhaps because of his background as a pilot and an engineer, he was more apt to make calculated guesses. Thus, there was no doubt in my mind that he and my mom really were laughing that much. It occurred to me Bob and I weren't having near as much fun and that our comparatively paltry amount of shared laughter might be propelling us towards the big "D" (just kidding, Babe).

My dad laughed easily and often. I'm happy to say I personally made him laugh easily and often. Oh, how I miss that big laugh of his!  Providentially, I made a television debut in 1980 that made him laugh for almost twenty years.

At the time I worked part time at my parents' travel agency and was often used as an errand girl. I've never been a morning person, always running late and taking minimal time to get ready. That particular morning was especially hectic. I'd overslept and didn't have time to shower or put on make-up. When I got to work, they sent me out to the store to pick up a few items. When I got to the store I noticed a news crew set up in the parking lot. I vaguely wondered what the "big story" was but was
more concerned about getting in and out of there without being seen by anyone. Just as I was about
ten paces from the door, this news crew started running towards me, like I was the big story. I tried to ignore them and picked up my pace a bit. They were persistent, saying they just had a few quick questions. Fine. They'd realize soon enough that I didn't know jack about whatever it was they were covering.

"Did you vote yesterday?" the reporter asked, putting a microphone up to my face.

I couldn't have looked more bewildered. You would have thought I'd never heard of the word "vote." What in the world would I have voted about?

I managed a meek, "Uh...no I didn't."

"Can you tell us why you didn't vote?" the man persisted.

Deciding honesty was the best policy, I answered, "I guess it was just...ignorance."

That seemed to satisfy them and they went on to find their next victim.

I didn't really think much more about it until I got home and was eating dinner with my parents. I told them about my "interview" that morning.

"You don't think they'd ever put that on...do you?" The idea horrified me. I didn't want anyone to see me like that, much less an entire television audience. "What vote were they talking about anyway?"

Turns out is was Michigan's primary and there had been an unusually low voter turnout. Please God, don't let me be on TV.

My dad turned to the right channel and just as we tuned in they started the segment with, "Here are some of the reasons voters gave for not voting in yesterday's primary..."

And there was my greasy, bigger than life face blazoned across the TV screen, squeaking out the excuse "Ignorance." The "I guess it was just" part didn't make the cut, just the word "ignorance."

My dad howled with laughter. Every time I thought he had exhausted the laughter out of his system, he'd look at me and imitate my nasally, squeaky voice and say: "Ignorance." It would get him roaring all over again.

From that point on (at least once a year), something would remind him of it, and he'd look at me and say, "ignorance" and laugh just as hard as if he had just witnessed it. It made me happy I'd done something that could make my dad laugh that heartily, for that many years.