Smile Crime.

It is not a crime not to smile. I just want to say that. In fact the majority of life’s concerns, involvements and even joys are not the stuff of smiling. When one old jazz musician talking to another old jazz musician put the lines on his face down to laughing the other commented acidly, “Nothin’s that funny.” No, we’ve been duped brothers and sisters. Since the early days of TV our lower facial muscles have been coerced into action by sit-com laughter machines originally designed to make mid-west housewives feel less lonely while their husbands worked 24/7 for IBM. But as our viewing hours have increased over the years from zero to over 50% of our spare time we have grown to believe if life isn’t transacted in a constant state of mild amusement it’s time to see a therapist. One is not depressed when one is not smiling! In fact quite the reverse. If one has to maintain a constant grin from watching Friends in order to stop one self-arming one very well might be. No there’s a lot to be said for apparent grumpiness, it gives your face a break and can bring a deep sense of satisfaction. It’s like when the charge hand of the pattern makers had an almighty row with a lippy youngster. Forman admonishes charge hand for shouting and using bad language, “Now I’ve got to go and sort this out and quieten him down.” The charge hand waited in the foreman’s office till he heard more shouting and the sound of the foreman’s fist smacking into the youngster’s jaw. No one smiled then, even though a rich feeling of pleasure permeated the place. I mean when I tell a joke no one laughs but my grumpy faced inebriated wisdom is apparently hilariously funny. No, life is not a sit-com and I’m not going to smile until someone tickles me on my birthday, which is tomorrow.