Thank You, You've Been A Wonderful Audience!

Yesterday's Globe had a good locker room story: "Manny Delcarmen had pretended his cellphone was a microphone and stuck it in the face of Coco Crisp, whose postgame reverie already had been disrupted by an overeager inquisitor while he still had only one sock on, not to mention no shirt or pants. Now, his perfectly pressed dress shirt fully buttoned, Crisp turned to face what had become a gaggle of paid interrogators, the first inquiring what Crisp thought about Josh Beckett after yesterday's 9-0 shutout of the Cincinnati Reds. 'Who cares about Beckett?' Crisp said after Boston 's fourth win in five games and ninth in the last 12. 'Let's talk about me.'"

Without hearing the delivery, it's one of those lines that's funny in context. You need the stuff that came before (the cellphone microphone, the one sock) and/or you need to know Coco, to know for sure that it's funny, that he's not some bitter prima donna egomaniac (A prima donna ball player? Unheard of!) or media hater who doesn't think it's his job to comment on pitching other than the pitching he faced. (Out of context, the tone sounds remarkably Clemens-like.)

With all the modes of communication available to us now (and they can be huge time savers), context and tone have become issues in relationships. Especially for those of who like to be (or try to be) funny and have a special appreciation for sarcasm.

"I hate those smiley faces," one of my friends said over drinks the other night. "But they are HUGE in my world. Half the time I'm saying things that if they're not funny, I'm evil!" I know what she means. Once, I was got this email from a guy who said he had to work late an could we get together early the following week instead. And I think said something back like, "Yes, but I'm concerned. How will you live without me? It doesn't seem like that job allows for much time for pining." And then I thought "Wow, he doesn't know me all that well. Maybe it reads like I'm serious." So I added, "I am going to make you an advent calendar where all the little doors open up to my face. Hang on, running to Kinkos." Like my friend, as much as I think they're dorky, I rely on those smiley faces as well. It's especially true in a text, where there's no space to add something so over the top that it makes the joking part obvious.

All of this is heightened by the importance of humor in a s/o. For me, having a decent sparring partner is a non negotiable. I used to think that other person had to be funny, but I've since realized that a good straight man works just as well - if not better. These guys think you're funny. Their straightness can make their whole aura seem very manly and understated. And they often deliver the last laugh in a series - but in a making-it-even-funnier monotone. But the crucial thing is that they know when you're joking.

There's nothing worse than someone who doesn't know when you're kidding, especially when you're kidding at his expense, which is funny when it's light and he's in on it. And just plain cruel when he doesn't know what the heck is going on. (That, if you ask me, is why not to say yes to 20-somethings who meet you out and ask you on a date after five minutes of contact.)

That moment where you realize the person you're engaging with has no idea you're joking comes like a big thud. Because that's pretty much the moment you realize there's no potential. So you want to make sure it's him not you, that it's not your lack of a decent delivery that makes you seem serious. In person you can punch his arm and laugh - giving a guy who's appealing but may not know you're joking (because of the nervousness of the situation, because of your bad delivery, because really only you thought it was funny among 100 people surveyed) every possible chance to at least be in on the joke. But in that all-important email, text, and IM banter, what can you do but :-) and hope for the best?