Marshall Ramsey

In 1973, Atlanta had one of its worst ice storms on record. Up to five inches of ice covered everything with a thick coating of glaze. It knocked down power lines and pine trees alike.  Some parts of my suburban hometown of Marietta, Georgia didn’t have electricity for two weeks. It was a disaster. People shivered by their fireplaces. Tuna fish and peanut butter became the food of the times. There is nothing redeeming about an ice storm. Absolutely nothing. It was a winter blunderland.

That morning my sisters and I slid outside to behold the glistening world around us. I remember the garage door opening and our old Impala station wagon (the kind with the third seat that faced to the rear) firing up and sliding back out into the driveway.  We didn’t have school. But my dad had to drive into Atlanta to go into work.

We stood in the street and watched as his car fish-tailed all the way up the hill of our road and on to the interstate. It was at that moment that I realized being an adult must really suck.

This morning I thought about my dad and his perilous icy drive.  I left my son playing his video game (yes, we still have power) as I braved Isaac’s gusty winds and driving rains. I dodged falling limbs and flooded roads.  I’ll admit — I was envious of my son. And I was envious of the little kid from 1973 who got to stay home while his daddy slid into work.

As I write this, the Hurricane Issac is hammering the Gulf Coast and dumping rain on South Mississippi.  Here in Central Mississippi, we watch and wait, wondering if and when we’ll get the rain.  My hurricane preparations are ready. I won’t complain if I don’t need them.

Yesterday, The Sun Herald ran a story suggesting that “Land Massgate” (yes, I just launched a “gate” scud) might not have really happened. And in return, people swear they heard it — although no video has appeared yet.   So now the backlash of the backlash of the backlash has begun  — and  I just smile at the whole thing. Why?  I had Jana Bell, the creator of the brilliant and viral Facebook Page “The Land Mass between NOLA and Mobile, on my radio show yesterday; and I applaud what she did. She took what was perceived to be an insult (I’ve been in broadcasting long enough to know you sometimes say stupid things on air without ill intent) and turned it into a positive. She created a fun way for people to vent pent up frustration from poor media coverage  seven years ago. I’ll be honest, some of the memes, posters, cartoons and other things from land masspalooza are hilarious.  The Weather Channel hasn’t been harmed. Jim Cantore is still chasing danger. People are able to vent and laugh.  And now the Weather Channel says “Mississippi” more than “Who” is said in “When the Grinch Stole Christmas.”

Isaac is frightening.  Not only because of the damage it’s doing. But because it’s churning up emotions from seven years ago.  A little levity in the face of the storm isn’t exactly a bad thing.

“I bet you are carving your name and phone number in my back.”

“I hope I have a melanoma on the other side so I can get rid of my love handles.”

“Could you give me a chin while you’re working on me?”

“Of course I won’t draw a cartoon about you; you have a knife in my back.”

“I’m afraid to make you mad, I might wake up with a boob job.”

The jokes poured out of me.  I had just been diagnosed with a very dangerous form of cancer and was scared to death. I was lying on the operating table about to lose a good chunk of my side and most of my sense of well-being. I’m sure some might have told me to “Get serious” at that moment but I couldn’t. At least not the way they would have wanted me to.  I was fighting my fear head-on with the most powerful weapon in my arsenal: Humor.

I was once told that I and should quit making jokes and “stick to the issues.”  I felt really sorry that person.  I think it’s because I was once just like him at one point in my life: I really used to take life (and myself) way too seriously.  But I’ve been an editorial cartoonist for too long not to believe that the best way to the truth is through humor.

The times in my life when I have truly failed are when I couldn’t laugh at the situation or myself.

Don’t get me wrong.  I can make jokes and still I take care of business. This is a wonderfully complex world and you can do both.  Really. I made fun of my cancer yet managed to still work, pay my bills and chart out my care with my doctor.  Amazing, isn’t it?

I speak to cancer survivors and tell them that if you can’t laugh at the things that scare you, you’re in trouble. I truly believe that.  And lately, there has been a lot of good stuff to laugh at.

So go ahead, crack a joke. Make those around you smile. Find the humor in the situation. And if someone complains, tell them I said it is OK.  And then crack another joke.