My First Joke

When I was about 11 years old, my oldest brother Josh was on the high school football team. I only remember going to one game. All I remember about that game was this one moment my mom and I had while walking to get hot chocolate.

For some reason, the image I have of that game was from up on a hill above the field, midnight sky. I can’t even picture my mom in the memory, though I’m sure I was looking at her throughout the interaction. I guess it’s like any barely-hanging-on memory in that the video in my head of the event is as if I was a third person watching on.

Anyway, back to the story. My mom and I were getting something hot to drink and taking a reprieve from the general dude-ness of a high school football game attended by my (then) brothers and dad. As we were walking to the cocoa stand, my mom asked me why we, as women, found football players so attractive. And in that moment, I remember clearly writing my first joke.

The punchline that flowed so easily out of prepubescent Ila’s mouth was “because we can’t see their faces.”

Even now, 20 years later, I still giggle about that line every time I spend a Saturday or Sunday watching football.

Now that I have some serious distance from that night, I have a couple thoughts about it.

I have always loved making people laugh. I learned very early in my life how cathartic and healing it can be. I learned that laughing when things are hard, like when I was severely burned by McDonald’s coffee (a story for another time) or through childhood poverty and homelessness, puts things in a perspective that makes them easier to deal with, and maybe even more honest and balanced feeling.

My dad is an amateur ventriloquist, cartoonist, and magician. His dad jokes are epic. Growing up with his antics made me a good sport, I think. I often catch myself blurting terrible puns, but only once they’re halfway out my mouth and I have to finish the line.

Example: Coworker asks me if I cut my hair. Answer: Nope, someone else cut it.

Bad, right? Almost as bad as the guy at work whose answer is “Nope, I got all of them cut.”

But I love it. I have a notebook full of actual jokes I’ve written. I have aspirations to get the courage to perform some of them at a local open mic, which I am just way to scared to actually do. I keep an eye on local comedians, and then always feel inspired to write when I get home from a show. I don’t really think of myself as a creative person, so it’s kind of liberating to actually write down material I’ve never heard before about my real life.

I guess I should probably just get out there, huh?