THE HUMORIST AT HOME
B. Elwin Sherman
May 09, 2006
(A special guest interview with B. Elwin Sherman, by Judy Wallace)
His home office is what you’d expect, if it’s possible to have an expectation of how a North Country humorist’s workplace should present: a dark, nearly inaccessible cubicle with a desk, shelves and walls so cluttered they belie any semblance of organization.
Given B. Elwin Sherman’s ability to find good humor in almost any subject, this mare’s nest of books, papers and curiosities seems a fitting habitat for the mind and body of a celebrated wag. His new book: “TOOLKIT IN PARADISE – The Self-Helpless Guide To A Decade Of American Wit & Wisdom,” has been released to wide critical acclaim.
We began the interview unceremoniously, with Mr. Sherman swiveling around in his barely navigable desk chair. I’m dangerously perched on a pile of books:
Elwin ... may I call you “Elwin?”
Well, you could call me Queequeg, if you like. I always wanted to be a harpooneer, minus the whales, harpoon, and ocean, of course. All too messy and intimidating. That’s why I turned to humor-writing, to answer your second question first.
I haven’t asked you a second question, Queequeg.
Just trying to save time. I’m in the middle of writing about a harpoonless, dry-land whale hunt, and I need to get back to it before I miss something. And, I was kidding about Queequeg. Call me Spanky.
Perhaps you could explain, Spanky, why you picked “Toolkit In Paradise” as your book’s title?
Two reasons: A toolkit in paradise is the last thing we thought we’d ever need in the last place we thought we’d ever need it. Secondly, I couldn’t find it used anywhere else in literature. In fact, before my book, I don’t believe it was ever imagined, much less spoken or written down. That’s important for a writer; mandatory for a humorist.
Why mandatory?
Because I can’t abide the word “compulsory.” Sounds too much like fourth grade gym class, where I failed miserably in compulsory Kickball. I could stretch every home run into a single, and was the only player ever run down and called out by his own kick. I’m only now getting over it.
No, I meant----
I know what you meant, but I refuse to answer without a note from the gym teacher.
Moving on --- In your book you claim that “women work like rolling wheels and shifting breezes, while men work like flaming pogo sticks.” Care to elaborate on that?
No self-respecting humorist can claim the title without at least one treatment on the differences between the sexes. I’ve done many, including several in the book. And, because we’ve no shortage of men, women, sex or differences, I’m sure of doing more.
What about the differences?
As I say in the book, men are the Sun. We send out light and heat. But, we’d be nothing without our Mother Earth and Sister Moon giving us a dictionary for our definitions, a stage to illuminate, and a hearth to make warm. Without women, we’d be just another pinhole in the universal night --- all duded up and no place to glow.
What makes YOU laugh?
Nothing’s ever funny without springing from, or having strong elements of, a grave or contrary premise. W. Somerset Maugham wrote of this, when he talked about “something irresistibly comic in our most heartfelt woes.” I don’t understand, and never want to know, why a runaway coffin crashing into a confectionery pushcart is funny, but it is. If I truly knew WHY, the humor would fall away
Sara Teasdale “found more joy in sorrow, than you could find in joy.” We laugh until we cry. How about tears of joy? Painfully funny? Dark humor? I nearly died laughing? I think the expression: “didn’t know whether to laugh or cry” speaks for itself. The line between laughing and crying is as fine as the one separating the very young from the very old. Just a nudge will do it.
My job is to walk that line, nudging along the way.
Your favorite funny people?
Albert Einstein. William Shakespeare.
As humorists?
Einstein said: “Only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.” Shakespeare said: “Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.” Hilarious ... and dark as a dungeon.
You’ve said the following: “I live with two cats, a woman and a Harley, not necessarily in that order.” What did you mean by that?
One is the ride in my life, another is the life in my ride, and the other two routinely deposit dead field mice in the shower stall. How I get through the day is often determined by which of these events first presents itself.
I think we’d better end this here. I’m getting a cramp pretending to be comfortable sitting on this pile of books.
Now THAT’s funny. And, you’ll notice the painful stimulus.
Any last witticisms?
Yes, next time sit over there on that pile of Robert Benchley. He’s more than a sitting woman can stand.
B. Elwin Sherman lives with Judy Wallace, Jinx, Bella, and “Pearl the Road King” in the New Hampshire North Country. His book is now available at all online bookstores. Signed copies can be ordered via his website. His commentary on “Chainsaw Etiquette” appears in the May issue of New Hampshire Magazine.
His home office is what you’d expect, if it’s possible to have an expectation of how a North Country humorist’s workplace should present: a dark, nearly inaccessible cubicle with a desk, shelves and walls so cluttered they belie any semblance of organization.
Given B. Elwin Sherman’s ability to find good humor in almost any subject, this mare’s nest of books, papers and curiosities seems a fitting habitat for the mind and body of a celebrated wag. His new book: “TOOLKIT IN PARADISE – The Self-Helpless Guide To A Decade Of American Wit & Wisdom,” has been released to wide critical acclaim.
We began the interview unceremoniously, with Mr. Sherman swiveling around in his barely navigable desk chair. I’m dangerously perched on a pile of books:
Elwin ... may I call you “Elwin?”
Well, you could call me Queequeg, if you like. I always wanted to be a harpooneer, minus the whales, harpoon, and ocean, of course. All too messy and intimidating. That’s why I turned to humor-writing, to answer your second question first.
I haven’t asked you a second question, Queequeg.
Just trying to save time. I’m in the middle of writing about a harpoonless, dry-land whale hunt, and I need to get back to it before I miss something. And, I was kidding about Queequeg. Call me Spanky.
Perhaps you could explain, Spanky, why you picked “Toolkit In Paradise” as your book’s title?
Two reasons: A toolkit in paradise is the last thing we thought we’d ever need in the last place we thought we’d ever need it. Secondly, I couldn’t find it used anywhere else in literature. In fact, before my book, I don’t believe it was ever imagined, much less spoken or written down. That’s important for a writer; mandatory for a humorist.
Why mandatory?
Because I can’t abide the word “compulsory.” Sounds too much like fourth grade gym class, where I failed miserably in compulsory Kickball. I could stretch every home run into a single, and was the only player ever run down and called out by his own kick. I’m only now getting over it.
No, I meant----
I know what you meant, but I refuse to answer without a note from the gym teacher.
Moving on --- In your book you claim that “women work like rolling wheels and shifting breezes, while men work like flaming pogo sticks.” Care to elaborate on that?
No self-respecting humorist can claim the title without at least one treatment on the differences between the sexes. I’ve done many, including several in the book. And, because we’ve no shortage of men, women, sex or differences, I’m sure of doing more.
What about the differences?
As I say in the book, men are the Sun. We send out light and heat. But, we’d be nothing without our Mother Earth and Sister Moon giving us a dictionary for our definitions, a stage to illuminate, and a hearth to make warm. Without women, we’d be just another pinhole in the universal night --- all duded up and no place to glow.
What makes YOU laugh?
Nothing’s ever funny without springing from, or having strong elements of, a grave or contrary premise. W. Somerset Maugham wrote of this, when he talked about “something irresistibly comic in our most heartfelt woes.” I don’t understand, and never want to know, why a runaway coffin crashing into a confectionery pushcart is funny, but it is. If I truly knew WHY, the humor would fall away
Sara Teasdale “found more joy in sorrow, than you could find in joy.” We laugh until we cry. How about tears of joy? Painfully funny? Dark humor? I nearly died laughing? I think the expression: “didn’t know whether to laugh or cry” speaks for itself. The line between laughing and crying is as fine as the one separating the very young from the very old. Just a nudge will do it.
My job is to walk that line, nudging along the way.
Your favorite funny people?
Albert Einstein. William Shakespeare.
As humorists?
Einstein said: “Only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.” Shakespeare said: “Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.” Hilarious ... and dark as a dungeon.
You’ve said the following: “I live with two cats, a woman and a Harley, not necessarily in that order.” What did you mean by that?
One is the ride in my life, another is the life in my ride, and the other two routinely deposit dead field mice in the shower stall. How I get through the day is often determined by which of these events first presents itself.
I think we’d better end this here. I’m getting a cramp pretending to be comfortable sitting on this pile of books.
Now THAT’s funny. And, you’ll notice the painful stimulus.
Any last witticisms?
Yes, next time sit over there on that pile of Robert Benchley. He’s more than a sitting woman can stand.
B. Elwin Sherman lives with Judy Wallace, Jinx, Bella, and “Pearl the Road King” in the New Hampshire North Country. His book is now available at all online bookstores. Signed copies can be ordered via his website. His commentary on “Chainsaw Etiquette” appears in the May issue of New Hampshire Magazine.
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