Nancy Sue and the bird

A Humor Awards nomination I can't stop thinking about

Humor Month is 30 days of nonstop humor activities, which is both amazing and exhausting. By the end of April, I’m always inspired… and a little fried. This year, one moment is the reason both of those things are true.

There were a lot of highlights from the past month (here’s a 15-minute recap if you want the full tour). Humor Heroes recognized, live events run, more puns punned than is probably medically advisable.

But the Humor Awards are always my favorite part, because they’re not about me or anyone on a stage. They’re about the people out there using this skill in their actual lives, every day, where it matters.

This year we had 24 finalists. Every single one of them earned their spot. But there was one nomination in particular that got me right in the feels. It came in from a reader named Nancy Sue, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

What Nancy Sue Wrote

For the first time in over six years, I signed up and attended an event via Zoom with Andrew Tarvin after I took the Humor Intelligence test. This is significant because I knew that I was at a point in my grief recovery where I actually felt like I might be able to know HOW I am funny or to notice things that I think are funny and why.

Since my dear husband died six years ago, NOTHING was funny any more. It seemed permanent... until Andrew reminded me of his Pretzel and Pineapple; then about his silly brother who proclaimed with great importance that he farted in class, or Andrew’s statement about “It’s NUN of your business,” and in his little ending statement, “Wit regards.”

I love birds and talk to them regularly, so I am not constantly talking to myself. I Especially love Quails. My favorite is Papa Quailie, with his ever bouncing top knot and superior strut. So the change is gradual, but steady and I am so appreciative.

The Metric That Matters

As a creator, it’s easy to get caught up in the numbers. Views, likes, comments, opens, conversions. The metrics that everyone agrees count as “impact.” I track all of them. They’re useful.

But Nancy Sue isn’t a number. She’s a person who lost her husband, found six years of silence afterward, and is now noticing Papa Quailie’s bouncing top knot and finding it funny again. No dashboard captures that. No quarterly report has a column for it.

I got into this work because of a small nudge. My best friend in college wanted to start an improv group, needed people, and “forced” me to join. I almost said no. I said yes for reasons I don’t fully remember, and that one yes is the reason I have a career, a TEDx talk, a wife I call Pretzel, and a daughter I call Pineapple. The nudge took about ten seconds. The ripple is still going.

I started Humor That Works so I could be that nudge for other people. Most of the time I have no idea if it’s working. The numbers tell me something, but they don’t tell me the thing.

The thing is Papa Quailie.

You never know what small thing turns out to be the big thing. For someone else. Or for you.

Your Turn

I’d love to know about a nudge in your life. Not a big one. The small kind.

The friend who suggested a class, the colleague who forwarded an article, the stranger who said the right thing at the right time. The kind of moment that probably didn’t seem like much when it happened.

Hit reply and tell me about it. I read every one, and if you’re game, I might share a few next week. Names off, unless you tell me otherwise.

Wit regards,

Andrew

P.S. Nancy Sue’s story started with the Humor Intelligence Assessment, which helped her notice what she actually finds funny. If you’ve been curious about it, it’s right here.

P.P.S. I’ve decided I’m going to start talking to birds too. That way I’m not talking to myself, I’m a Disney princess.