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Blood, sweat and tears of laughter
WE are pleased to announce that thanks to the miracle of modem science, this column may expand your blood vessels!
Legal disclaimer Or it may not
Medical warning: If it does not, just deal with it. Do not cut this column out and insert it into a blood vessel, or any other part of your body.
Hmm, let me start at the beginning. Somewhere in the sky between Indonesia and China, a flight attendant tapped my arm. "Didn't you used to be Nury Vittachi?" she asked.
"No," I replied. "I used to be Johnny Depp. Then I became Britney Spears. I'm planning to be Nury Vittachi next'
She looked puzzled for a second and then laughed.
A Singaporean was eavesdropping. "You're Vittachi is it? I used to read your funny columns all the time-lah," he said. "But what's to smile about in Asia these days? You can't breathe the air, the wildlife's extinct, and our life savings are trapped in a casino called the stock market."
"So. An optimist" I was nearly right. He turned out to be an optometrist, a Latin word meaning "octopus-measurer."
The woman in the next seat had an even sadder tale. "My husband ran off with a woman eleven years older than me," she said. "That makes me the most humiliated woman on this planet."
"Wow, you really are," I agreed. Being a deeply sensitive person, I quickly realized that this had not been the kindest thing to say, so added: "Never mind. They'll both die before you do."
"That's the plan," she muttered darkly.
The optometrist was a standard modem Asian yuppie. Suit by Crocodile. Shirts by Van Heusen. Shoes by Bally. Waistline by Starbucks. He showed me the earthquake, the stock crash and the ferry disaster in his newspaper. "The news is so depressing. Start writing funny columns again. You'll do more good than a hundred doctors," he said.
The sad woman next to me,
who was a doctor, cut in: "Laughter expands blood vessels, decreases serum cortisol and boosts the immune system. A humourist can in theory boost health better than a doctor."
"You flatter me. You after my body?" I asked.
"Eww, no thanks," she said, wrinkling her nose.
The flight attendant and other passengers joined in. "Make us laugh," they said.
I spent the rest of the flight deep in thought. Before hanging up my typewriter in 2004,1 wrote literally thousands of humour columns for more than a dozen newspapers and magazines around Asia. I saw myself returning to that profession as a sort of
physician-writer: "Thke two funny columns before bed and call me in the morning."
And then I came to my senses. I decided I would write a column a day this year, but offer no guarantee that they would expand your blood vessels. They may give you one more smile than you'd otherwise have had.
And when I advised you at the top of this column not to insert this newspaper into a blood vessel or any part of your body, I should have added that it should not be inserted into your columnists' body, either. We are deeply sensitive people.
Tomorrow: Jokes that can kill.
Nury Vttachi was bom on Earth and still spends much of his time there Visit him on wwwvrttachi.com