There’s all sorts of reading. There’s reading a newspaper. Reading a book. Reading the room. In fact the same guy (me, Andy) went from reading Dr. Martin Luther King to Dr. Seuss in the same day. As for reading the room, I went from being the class clown in high school to taking improv classes at Second City to a career of writing and presenting commercials and commercial storyboards to creative directors, clients and the like. As soon as you present an idea, you know if it went over or not. Very quickly. You know that feeling when you tell something you think is funny and you’re chuckling as you say it and nobody responds? If you don’t know that feeling you’re either a brilliant comedian or you’re not the kind of person who tells jokes. John was once in a meeting in which the client was postulating on why their market share was dropping (never a good thing when you’re supposedly the creative genius who’s gonna turn the whole thing around). The client starts in with a bunch of “they say” comments. “They say a rising tide lifts all boats.” “They say, when the market’s down your advertising should focus on savings.” “They say, blah, blah blah.” To which John adds the chorus from the old Peter and Gordon song, “I don’t care what they say, I won’t stay, in a world without love.” Cue the sound of silence, or as we like to say, “Crickets,” as in the room was so silent you could hear crickets chirping. Which brings us around to kid jokes. After a lifetime of trying to make people laugh, I now have turned my efforts to my 3 1/2 year old granddaughter. She thinks most of what I say is funny, unlike my wife. Grade A material like, “Watch out, here comes the kissing monster!!!” I even taught her how to tell her own knock-knock joke. Knock, knock. Who’s there? Boo. Boo who? Why are you crying? John has some fart jokes for me when she gets older. But he can actually juggle so he doesn’t have to resort to fart jokes before his granddaughter is ready. But I digress. On Halloween, it seemed the perfect time to tell her the “Booberry” joke you saw in today's comic. If it makes the kid laugh, it’s a hit. But somewhere, deep down inside, you know you’re gonna have to come up with better material the older she gets. But I’m not worried. My daughter is about to deliver her second baby in December. So I can recycle all my groaners for at least another 3 years.

On to the cholesterol test. This really happened to me two years ago. Literally. Except I read the results in bed, not in a doctor’s office. When I told the idea to John, he said, “C’mon, nobody would think being in the 96th percentile was a good thing.” I retorted, “I did!” I was in bed reading my emails including the one about my just completed calcium test when I read the news and shouted out triumphantly to my wife in the bathroom, “Guess what honey, no worries, I’m in the 96th percentile!” Worries. But one stent later and a stronger dose of Lipitor, I’m still standing. John reluctantly decided to pursue this idea and what you see is the result. And I’ve got to tell you, I still think being in the 96th percentile is pretty fantastic.

That’s all for this week. We are going back to work to make sure our comic is in the 96th percentile. Have a great November weekend. November???

Andy and John