For Arnulfo's birthday, we went to see Heywood Banks at a comedy club. He was quite funny in a goofy, self-deprecating way. The show was completely clean (I didn't realize I'd bought tickets to a "family friendly" show), which amazed me since we've been to many comedy club acts that were hilarious but also full of sexual humor and lots of profanity.

The whole time we were there, a girl--probably ten years old--kept turning to her dad after each joke and asking him, "why is everybody laughing?" This reminded me how much humor has to do with audience... like the fact that Banks wasn't cussing didn't necessarily mean that his humor would hit the right nerve with younger kids.

This is something that I can observe but have no aspirations to "tailor" humor for any audience, short of the ridiculous faces and noises I make to entertain Liam. In fact, when it comes to my writing (and real life, come to think of it), I pretty much never try to be funny. Humor is effort-ful for me which somehow undoes its possibility of being effective with a listener. Being funny: right up there with being able to sing. Hey, a gal can't have it all.

But Heywood Banks is funny AND he sings. Click below for his signature "Yeah, TOAST!" routine. By the way, after our show, these five teenagers pulled pieces of actual toasted bread out of their bags to have a photo opp with Banks. That's fame!

It turns out that April is both poetry appreciation month and sexual assault awareness month. This conjunction made me think of a Barbara Kingsolver poem that maps reflections about sexual assault onto a description of the aftermath of a burglary. Forget my preliminaries... just read the poem:

This House I Cannot Leave

By Barbara Kingsolver

My friend describes the burglar:

how he touched her clothes, passed through rooms

leaving himself there,

                                             staining the space

between walls, a thing she can see.

She doesn’t care what he took, only

that he has driven her out, she can’t

stay in this house

she loved, scraped the colors of four families

from the walls and painted with her own

and planted things.

She is leaving fruit trees behind.

She will sell, get out, maybe

another neighborhood.

                                                  People say

Get over it. The market isn’t good. They advise

that she think about cash to mortgage

and the fruit trees

but the trees have stopped growing for her.

I offer no advice.

I tell her I know, she will leave. I am thinking

Of the man who broke and entered

Me.

         Of the years it took to be home again

in this house I cannot leave.

Just want to say two things. (1) Sexual assault happens (and has happened) to many, many more people than we realize: mothers, sisters, lovers, brothers, friends, children. (2) Healing also happens. Slowly, as Kingsolver indicates in those last lines. Because the healing has to happen at the scene of the crime: in our violated selves.

So today is tax day. You're stressed out because you're still trying to get them done and H&R Block's online tax friend keeps crashing on you. Or you've sent them in--along with all that money you didn't know you owed the IRS. Even if you got money back, the stress of others is contagious, so you need to laugh. And possibly feel that someone has it worse. Like the guy who has to put a sign on his door to keep the neighbor's dog poop away. That sucks.

How to Suck at Facebook (by Oatmeal.com) -- I laughed out loud (literally) repeatedly. Warning: you may recognize yourself or someone you love here.

Misery Bear's Day Off -- the BBC brings you a precious teddy bear whose life (always) sucks. He makes a really cute sound before puking after too much Jack Daniels.

The Book of Biff on "milk straight from the container" -- As a nursing mom, you'd better believe I picture someone other than a dairy cow inside this barn--I think this dude totally just accosted a lady breastfeeding her little farmboy baby in there. :)

If you're still feeling cranky, at least you didn't just wash your husband's iTouch with the sheets like I did. How's that for a thank you for his hard work filing the taxes?

While we go about our business, life is still very broken for many in Japan. The Kidlit4Japan auction is the product of many authors teaming up to offer signed books and services for auction to raise money (UNICEF receives all proceeds).* Tomorrow is the last day for the remaining items in the auction, so you should swing by the site and see what awesome goodies are available. You get cool stuff, Japan gets aid $$. Good deal.

FYI, signed copies of What Can't Wait at auction #116.

*Mad kudos to Greg R. Fishbone and other rockstars behind Kid Lit 4 Japan.

I do certain things hoping that they will make the world a little better, or at least... less bad. But I also worry a lot. For example: if it takes a lot of water for me to wash a peanut butter jar before recycling it, does that counteract the benefit of recycling? If I give money to someone on the street, what if they're using it to buy drugs?

To borrow the title of a lovely blog about these kinds of questions, I often find myself in a state of conscientious confusion. I'm trying not to get so confused that my conscience is disabled, but also not to forget how complicated important issues can be. Here are a couple of little things that I try to do and hope make a difference:

(1) Using cloth diapers as much as possible. Way easier than I expected, and gentle on Liam's tender tush, the environment, and our wallets.

(2) Holding doors for people. I'm amazed at how often people on the campus where I teach and study let heavy doors nearly close on the next person. I try to hold doors when someone's behind me (male or female).

(3) Saying thank you. I used to have a bad habit of apologizing excessively. I've tried to reprogram myself to express gratitude instead--whenever remotely possible. This habit does double duty: it lets other people feel good about what they've done and it puts me in a grateful, positive frame of mind.

(4) Recycling. Even if it's inefficient or even ineffective because our systems aren't up to snuff, I want Liam to grow up thinking about what we waste, what we reuse, and what we recycle.

(5) Noticing people and smiling. I move through a lot of crowded spaces--school halls, grocery stores, libraries--and it's easy to think of people as obstacles to where I want to be. Instead, I try to really see them, smile at them, and remember that they're in the middle of their own busy day, too. This little mental game makes me a lot more patient--and it makes me feel connected and positive about the people around me.