FONTANA: Slug Bug Red, no Punch Buggie Back

You see a red Volkswagen Beetle, a bug as there more commonly known, and what do you do? Well, it’s simple really:

Step one: Clench your fist.

Step two: Prepare to punch the person standing next to you (friend, family, foe or stranger)

And step three — the most controversial step of this entire, elaborate, diabolical system: You yell out “slug bug red! No slug bugs back!”

Please note: The perfect player performs all of three steps simultaneously. However, margins of error are granted to the more unskilled beginners (aka: n00bz).

Now, I’m sure most of you find “step three” acceptable, sound proof and 100 percent, without a doubt — I’m talking about “Moses bringing down the 10 commandants” kind of truth — completely accurate. If so then bravo, here’s to you, you just won “the game,” hurray hurrah, you shall henceforth be bathed in riches.

However, for those of you who find some issue with this unchangeable, well-established, law binding step, for those of you who perhaps want to say something about a “punch buggie,” well you’re wrong, you’re not just ignorant, but you’re straight up stupid and simply put in the most delicate words that I can possibly find in all of the languages I have ever studied (that would be 6 if you’re wondering) I — and I always will — hate you.

There, I’ve said it. It’s true. You have no sense of culture, you aren’t funny at all and your face is ugly too. The tribe has spoken. It’s time for you leave.

Humor — it’s a pretty funny thing (ba-dum ching). It develops all over the world and everywhere it’s unique. Often times the differences are obvious when it comes to the specific topics or even the punch lines a society uses. But other differences can be more subtle. Sometimes it’s the difference between “punch buggie” and “slug bug.”  Yet, beyond the different development of humor between countries, states or even cities, it also develops differently in each of us, too. We each have our own culture of humor. That’s right, at this very moment you have something growing inside of you, or even worse, it’s already full-grown! It’s slimy, it wiggles and often times it opens your mouth and projects an audible choking sound that we all enjoy. In fact, we encourage it. It’s kind of like a little internal pet. Here little humor — here little humor. Good boy.

I know it sounds obvious to say that we are all unique — it’s been drilled into our brains since we first pooped on a piece of paper and our parents and teachers cooed “art.” But this Crayola crayon selection of humors is a rather important subject.

This unique “Culture of Humor” we each have, or our COH factor, is of the utmost importance to the industry of humor: comedians, actors, writers, directors and artists alike. All of these people make a living, stay alive and remain happy by forcing a convulsion of your diaphragm. They just like to hear you laugh.

Yet they spend their whole lives figuring out the right stimuli to accomplish this goal: Should I tickle them or hit myself in the head, do I quote Adam Sandler or Samuel Beckett, should I laugh my way through this joke or do I keep a very straight face? In short, Monster’s Inc. really does exist, and somewhere right now, in the depths of Hollywood, a conglomeration of celebrities are collecting our laughter in yellow tubes. These will, of course, be used to keep them all looking young.

All right, so humor might not be a fountain of youth, in fact, it’s often the main culprit for those wrinkles on your face, but there is something magic about laughter. Medical accuracy aside, laughter makes you smile, it helps pull people from the depths of depression and can calm down even the most nervous of nellies. I wouldn’t be surprised if we eventually figured out that laughter was really the cure for the common cold.

But more importantly it’s where our COHs meet that friendships form. If you can’t laugh together, then you probably aren’t going to be friends together either. Now, that’s not to say that our humor doesn’t change for different people. While in Chicago I might spend 90 percent of my time “false-tensing” or relying on a little “A! . . . B!” action, but here in Boston I survive on pretentious jokes about Greek Mythology and giggling when someone says, “duty.”

Sometime all it takes is that one really good laugh a day, to keep the doctor away, a smile on your face and a friend at your side.

And if that doesn’t work, you’ve always got that red Beetle to rely on for some good ol’ “anger management red, and no anger management back!”

David Fontana is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be reached at fontad5@bu.edu.