That Is So Deep

Now that I'm a teacher-type, and I use the term loosely, I'm expected to come up with borderline pithy, writerly wisdom. My hostages... I mean students I hold captive for two hours every Tuesday, turn to me for advice and if I don't produce something worthy, well, they start to riot and throw Pepperidge Farm at me. My God, this is a feisty group. They want knowledge, and they want it now. What they don't want to hear, as I'm learning, are the exploits of a sporadically-employed TV writer. Although, they did enjoy the story of how I nearly nursed a room full of male executives. But at some point, I must stop vamping and get down to business. A Milano hurled at my head via a disgruntled senior citizen isn't the goal.  The goal is to help them find humor in situations that aren't necessarily funny. Yesterday they demanded I get more specific. Suddenly, I went all spiritual on them. This happens to me around the Jewish holidays. I just go rabbinical. "Well," I said, pacing back in forth, "we must find the lightness in the darkness." "Huh?" "You heard me. Get out your GPS, and find the lightness in the darkness." "That is so deep." "I know, right?" "What if you don't have a GPS?" "We all have an internal compass." "I think mine's broken." "I know a place where you can get it fixed, cheap."

"As I was saying, where there is darkness, we must find lightness." "Yeah, but -- " "But nothing, mister." "I'm not sure I follow." "Follow this: Both the lightness and the darkness are great teachers. Let them guide you. Have courage, nice people." "So what you're saying is --?" "What I'm saying is, give yourself permission to find the joy amidst the heavy-osity. As Erma Bombeck once said -- " "Again with Erma Bombeck?" "Can't you quote anyone else?" "As Erma B. once said, 'If you can laugh at it, you can live with it.' " "Okay, thanks for clearing that up, Teach." "You are so welcome. Shana tova!" "Shana what?" "Never mind."