Lights, Camera, Jackson

     I fear I have no one to blame but myself, although my wife would say I’m not that funny.  My 11-year-old son, Jackson, is always going for the laugh.  This has been his modus operandi since he was three.  I remember when he was that age we were driving through midtown with a friend.  My son blurted out something from the backseat that made my friend laugh.  Big mistake.  Jackson wore that line out over the next 30 minutes.  Son, it was funny the first ten times.  The next 40, not so much.  But the beast had awakened and would need to be fed.

     His appetite for “hardy har-har” has only grown in leaps and bounds since then.  I assume it’s energized by the feedback he gets from friends. As you might imagine this has gotten him into his fair share of trouble over the years.  Admittedly he has received mixed signals over his behavior.  At a recent parent/teacher conference I was informed that Jackson was disrupting class every now and then by making light of things.  I took this very seriously until the teacher proceeded to laugh at re-telling Jack’s antics and how much it made her laugh.  Pick a side.

     Statements or questions directed to him at any particular moment are met with a facial expression of his choosing.  Usually, it’s something along the lines of Flynn Rider’s “smolder” from the movie Tangled.  I find he’s developed certain trademark sounds like the Fantastic Mr. Fox.  Getting a photo of Jack involves patience.  I’ve learned you need to fake a good number of snaps before getting the photo you want because he has an array of goofy faces and moves to get out of his system before you can get down to business.

 

     When Jackson has finished a task he pockets the impending excitement for his latest maneuver.  “Jackson, I told you to do this and that. Did you do it?”  Jackson replies, “No.”  “WHAT?!?!?!  I TOLD YOU…”  “Ha, ha, ha, I did it.”  “THEN WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?” “I just like to see you get worked up.”  This is actually quite hysterical if you’re not the subject of it.
     At home Jackson can barely keep a straight face as he’s being dressed down.  I find myself starting every disciplinary discussion with “Go ahead laugh, get it out now.”  Bless his heart, he’s not being disrespectful.  Or trying not to be.  He just can’t help himself.  Now, understand, he isn’t laughing at the end of the discussion or discipline, but the boy finds humor in just about everything. 
     Jackson is like those action figure dolls from back in the day, the ones that talked when you pulled the string in the back.  Only Jackson’s string broke and you can’t shut him off.  You don’t so much watch TV with him as you watch him watching TV.  In a previous life he was probably a cast member on “Mystery Science Theatre 3000.”  He has a wisecrack for everything.

 
     Jackson doesn’t adhere to the century old adage “leave them wanting more.”  If he’s not getting the laugh, he’ll keep going.  If he does get a laugh, he’ll aim for a longer, louder one.  I admire his persistence.  I don’t want to squash his thirst to entertain, but I do keep driving home the point that there’s a time and place for joking around.  And the time isn’t “always” and the place isn’t “wherever you’re standing.”  But show me a comic who follows rules and I’ll show you an out of work comic.
     Who knows where his thirst for guffaws will lead him, but I apologize in advance.