Columnist marks 30 years of humor writing

It’s almost impossible to believe 30 years have passed since my wife stormed the office of the long-since-gone Orrville Journal in its first few weeks of existence and made the following announcement to its editor Mike Kolasky: “My husband is a really funny guy and ought to be writing a column for your newspaper."

Of Kristin’s many and varied skills, I’d rank “persuasion” near the top — just a touch below artistic ability (and a full order of magnitude above cooking).

Looking back, I’m very thankful for the order in which she has pursued those skills; otherwise, I’d likely be a portly curmudgeon sitting on a lifetime’s worth of stories that had never been told to anyone other than my buddies, my mother and my dog.

Anyhow, the editor took the bait, and roughly a million words later, I’m still at it with Kristin as my greatest inspiration.

When I began this habit of telling anyone with five minutes and a decent pair of reading glasses just exactly what I was able to find funny about my own existence in the previous week, I actually had no idea how long I would be able to keep coming up with things to write about. A couple of weeks into it, one of my buddies said, “Oh yeah, it’s all fun and games for now, but what happens when the well runs dry? What happens when you’ve told all of your goofy stories?”

I didn’t have a good answer for that. As a matter of fact, it terrified me.

Fortunately, I have been blessed with an uncanny ability to attract a broad variety of weird experiences. Many has been the time when I’ve thought, “Oh my gosh, I’ve got to write a column on Monday night and nothing has happened,” only to have a cow wander up my driveway or a sewer pipe burst in my kitchen wall or to have that inspiring wife of mine wrinkle my vanity license plate on the back bumper of a city bus.

Fate has done a wonderful job of making sure something “funny” has happened to me at least once a week for the past three decades. That same fate also has required me, more than a time or two, to prove one man’s misery can result in another man’s delight. An old-timer once told me I could “make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” I wasn’t quite sure if that was meant as a compliment or criticism, so I took it as the former. It’s my nature to look for the upside, and it’s made for a wonderful ride.

Thanking Kristin for her good-natured acceptance of my little hobby of letting the world in on every silly thing she’s ever done is really just a formality here. Trust me, if I didn’t apologize profusely each time I write about one of her missteps, you would never see another illustration fall from her lovely hand to land upon page. Kristin is much more than a good sport; she’s a full-fledged partner in this madness. I couldn’t have done it without her, nor would I have even wanted to. She is my muse.

Finally, thank you, dear readers, for laughing along with us — some from the very beginning in January 1996. Here’s to our next decade of silly adventures together. It’s been our honor to make you smile. This week’s illustration is a 20-year throwback to our 10th writing anniversary.

Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John at jlorson@alonovus.com.