NO LAUGHING MATTER

About three months ago, a friend who lives in a nearby state asked if I would be willing to give a presentation to the local hospitals’ laughter club. Apparently, there are quite a few of these around the country. They provide an opportunity for staff and patients to enjoy the true benefits of a good laugh. Research clearly shows that a hefty guffaw has positive physical and psychological effects on the body.

I’ve always enjoyed making people laugh. The ability to share a good chuckle is something only humans can do. That ability, along with mowing the lawn every Sunday, is what sets us apart from the hairy ape. Although, in my neighborhood, you see plenty of hairy apes mowing the lawn.

Then, just yesterday, I received this email from my buddy in Ohio.

Dear Dick,

I am sorry to inform you that due to budget cuts at our hospital, the Laughter Club has been cancelled. And so are you. Needless to say, this issue is no laughing matter.

Greg

BUDGET CUTS???? How expensive could a laughter club be? Once a month, a group of people gather for lunch and share laughs while eating their tuna on whole wheat. You have to wonder how much money is being saved by eliminating this monthly activity. There’s no labor cost, no capital expense. ZERO. Let’s face it: if 15 people laughing together in an empty room is too costly, you need to cut back somewhere else. How about painkillers, or maybe those gourmet meals hospitals serve? Aren’t we all getting tired of lobster tail and Chateaubriand?

Don’t hospitals know how to cut a budget? EKGs, EEGs, MRIs. There has to be a lot of fat in that alphabet soup. Why are they taking this out on people who just want to laugh? There’s something un-American about this. I’m sorry, you can’t celebrate Mel Brooks and Dick Van Dyke’s 100th birthdays and cancel the Laughter Club in the same year. You can’t give Conan O’Brien the Mark Twain Prize in American humor and then cut the legs out from under the Laughter Club. (You could cut their neckties in half. Now, that would be funny!)

I think I will start my own laughter club. To demonstrate how cheaply it can be done, I’ll share my budget. After talking with my accountant, we put together a detailed estimate of expenses for 20 members meeting for 1 hour once a month over 10 years, with nonstop laughter. Because this was complicated, we used ChatGPT. Here are the results.

NEW LAUGHTER CLUB BUDGET

Room Rental: FREE (Come to my house.)

Refreshments: ON THE HOUSE (Not my house. Your house. Bring your own.)

Jokes: NO CHARGE (If your jokes stink, bring someone else’s.)

TOTAL COST:  NOTHING

I guess I can’t expect people in modern medicine, who handle multi-million-dollar robotic surgery machines, to be as financially savvy as I am, but I do hope this hospital will consider my suggestions and reinstate the Laughter Club.

When I finished this column, I sent it a copy to the hospital in question.  Their PR person texted me back…

“Dick, you shouldn’t be making fun of financial cuts. Fiscal problems are not a laughing matter.”

They better not be. Apparently, that can get expensive.