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 that Bob and I weren't having near as much fun, that our comparatively paltry amount of shared laughter might be propelling us towards the big "D" (just kidding, Babe).

My dad always 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, I was sent to the store to pick up a few items. When I got there 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 without being seen by anyone.

Just as I was about ten paces from the door, the 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 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 it 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 primaries..."

And there was my greasy, bigger than life face emblazoned across the TV screen, squeaking out the excuse, "Ignorance." The "I guess..." 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 that nasally, squeaky voice: "Ignorance." It would start him roaring all over again.

From that point on he could never use the word "ignorance" without using my particular enunciation. He would laugh just as hard as if he had just witnessed it. It makes me smile knowing I did something that made my dad laugh that heartily, for that many years.