SICKER THAN THOU

You see "sick." I see "hilarious."

How many women out there are occasionally appalled by their boyfriend's/husband's sense of humor? You know, when the guy makes a joke about what is, under other circumstances, deemed a tragic event. 

Just about all of you, no doubt. In kinder moments, you might consider them "sick." Huzzah! You're righter than you realize, according to researchers at University College London:

Developing an increasingly warped sense of humour could be an early warning sign of impending dementia, researchers have found.

The families of patients with frontotemporal dementia, a rare type of the disease, noticed relatives had developed an appreciation for 'darker' jokes in the years before they were diagnosed.

This included being amused by events others would not find funny, such as a badly parked car or a barking dog, and laughing inappropriately at tragic events. 

Do not go gentle into that good Stooge.

Let me warn you now, sisters, all the men you know were born demented. Sooner or later, we give in to the dark side, cracking wise about disasters natural and man-made, diseases, and people getting hurt.

In fact, one of the signs of this form of dementia is laughing at slapstick comedy. Now you know why we rolled on the floor as children watching the Three Stooges. We had a disease. No judging, OK?

Bert Parks knew a good gag
when he saw one.

There's no better example than a faded piece of kinescope in my possession. It's a clip from a live, 1959 game show called County Fair, hosted by Bert Parks. A supposedly wacky stunt goes wrong, causing a contestant to run offstage in flames. 

All the women I've run this for have reacted in horror -- while every man without exception laughed hysterically.  I have a friend who watched it 20 years ago and still laughs about it. 

That's a long time to suffer from this malady. I think we men ought to start our own "Sick Humor Dementia Awareness" campaign. I mean, why do women get all the fun with their fundraising walks, runs and races? I envision 500 or so of us walking through Central Park, out of the demented closet, our heads held high, no longer ashamed. We are your husbands, your brothers, your sons!

Then the spectators get run down by an out of control horse-drawn carriage. God, that'd be funny.

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