It's All in the Narration

In typical old lady fashion, I fell fast asleep watching television. When I woke up, it was still early (9:30 p.m.) but I went to bed anyway. No sooner did my head hit the pillow, my eyes flew open and would not close for the next several hours. Despite many attempts to turn off my brain, it was stuck on the spin cycle, so I just gave up.

As I lie there at 4 a.m., my mind drifted to writing. I may not be the best writer but I am always thinking about it. What to write about that is. I seem to come up with just the right words when I am without paper and pen or computer to document my brilliance.

Oh, I have lots of material - six decades worth to be precise. The problem is, a lot of it isn't funny. Since I seem to get the most readers when I go for the laughs, this presents a challenge. My political rants have a few "likers" but, for the most part, the stories about life's craziness hit the mark. (To MW, that was not intentional, I swear.)

So, I thought about how, for most of my life, it was a struggle to find the "funny." My folks were not funny. Oh, my father enjoyed the random joke - at someone else's expense - but he was not what you'd call a comedian himself.

My mother enjoyed humor - the MASH variety - as in sarcasm and irony. Her brothers made her laugh with their crude, often inappropriate, form of story telling. As kids (the ten grandchildren) we were never escorted out of the room while our uncles did their risqué stand-up in the kitchen. I suppose the adults thought most of what was said went over our heads. It did not. But I watched my mother laugh and laugh at their routines, then turn back into old stone face the moment we left Grandma's house.

My mind so often drifts to unhappy childhood memories. As I lie there trying to figure out how to morph them into funny ones, the answer hit me - It's all in the narration!!! Yes! That's it! The most successful producers know it's what turns a good movie into a great one.

Imagine "War of the Worlds" if it had been narrated by - oh - say - Mel Blanc (the voice of Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny and Porky Pig, to name a few) instead of Orson Welles!! People would have been laughing their butts off instead of trying to save them - screaming in panic and stampeding over each other to escape the imminent alien invasion.

Why, inhale the helium from a few balloons and you will entertain folks until the effect wears off. It's not the Audio-Animatronic Abe Lincoln, but Morgan Freeman's narration, at the Disney Hall of Presidents that brings even the most hardened cynic to tears. And how funny would those three chipmunks be if they had the voices of - oh let's say - any member of Congress, instead of the squeaky cuteness people have loved for decades?! (Well not me. I can't stand the things, but you get my point.)

Here's a test. Read the following as if Orson Welles was the narrator:

"My mother was so mean, the grass moved out of her way when she walked out the door."

Now, read the same sentence as if it was being spat at you by Daffy Duck:

"My mother was so (spit spit) mean, the grass (spit spit) moved out of her way when she (spit spit) walked out the door."

 

 

 

Narration. Somehow I have to make sure I write as though Daffy himself was telling you the story. It's a tall order, but I'm up for the challenge....