LAUGH AT YOURSELF

 U gotta love the opening scene of Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth.

The former presidential candidate takes the stage, PowerPoint clicker in-hand. His famous Global Warming Slideshow appears on the enormous screen in the background. Thousands of bright-eyed college students anxiously await his opening remarks.

The applause fades. The crowd falls silent.

And the first words out of Al Gore's mouth are, "Hello, my name is Al Gore, and I used to be the next president of the United States."

The students roar with laughter! Cheers, whistles and applause echo from the auditorium for the next 20 seconds. Even Gore chuckles a bit to himself on stage.

At that very moment, you realize something: Al Gore has every single one of those students in the palm of his hand. Instantly, he's become likeable, funny, and, believe it or not, sort of cool.

BEHOLD! The amazing power of self-deprecating humor:

------Scott Ginsberg

Greengross says: "Self-deprecating humour can be an especially reliable indicator not only of general intelligence and verbal creativity, but also of moral virtues such as humility."
            

My life is fraught with funny situations. I love retelling my stories because I am confident that I am somewhat eccentric and orange. Those of you who are familiar with the Color Personality Test and know me understand perfectly.

When I was named Queen Evangeline VII for our Mystic Krewe Des Acadiens, I kept my very big expensive crown in a special case in the trunk of my car. Why? I don’t know. I suppose in case I was called to reign over something.

I was driving home from evening jazzercise class intent on stopping by Kmart to buy something important at the Blue Light special when I noticed a police car with flashing lights tailing my bumper.

I quickly moved over into the other lane so he could pursue whatever felon he was chasing. I noticed that he started tailing me again so I increased my speed. I thought it strange that he turned his siren on. I had arrived at KMart, so I turned into the parking lot.

He pulled up behind me, strolled over to the car, and said, “Driver’s license and registration NOW.”

I was confused. I replied, “Officer, I was not in violation of a law, was I?”

“Ma’am, you were traveling 50 MPH in a 35 MPH zone.”

I immediately apologized, told him it was an accident, and requested that he turn off his flashing lights. He did not. Instead he walked over to look at my license plate, walked back to my window, and said, “What does QE VII on your license plate stand for?”

After I reminded him never to end a sentence in a preposition, I answered excitedly, "Queen Evangeline VII!”

He asked, “And what country are you queen of? …………That preposition thing again, but I ignored it.

“My husband is also a king.”

He had an incredulous look on his face.

“Officer,” I said, “My husband and I are King and Queen of our Atlanta Mardi Gras Krewe. We have a formal ball at the Fox every February. I don’t suppose policemen have balls, so if you would like to come, I will gladly invite you.”

I suppose the interval of silence could be described as a pregnant pause.

Shocked at the wording of my comment, I just prayed I would not be arrested on the spot and miss out on that Blue Light Special. I asked if I could step out of the car to retrieve my crown from the trunk of my car. after he gave me permission, I placed that big shiny crown on my head even though my hair was wet and matted from my exercise class. The crystals sparkled like diamonds in that lighted parking lot.

The nice officer said to me, “Lady, this is definitely the most entertaining traffic stop of my career. If you get into your car, drive the speed limit, and go home, I won’t cite you.”

I so wanted to ask the nice officer if he was headed to Dunkin donuts to recite this event to his partners in fighting crime. But, I didn’t. I thought it prudent to leave quickly, even though I was going to miss that great Kmart sale.

And, I promise this is a true story.