editor’s letter

Without a doubt, in times of need, I have been appreciative of a shoulder to cry on.

Heaven knows that over the past several months I’ve had a couple of occasions—as have the people I care most about, and as have probably most of us—to let the tears flow without fear of judgment or embarrassment. I’ve had disappointments and frustrations and been witness to heartbreak, sickness, divorce—and even a little death thrown in for good measure. Having the space to bare my ache isn’t just good, it’s vital.

But for me, the other equally essential wing of that proverbial soothing bird is laughter…even in the face of great tragedy. There is a healing magic so deep that comes from speaking comedic truth to pain. The quip that turns weeping to giggling. The well-thrown barb that shifts sorrow to joy. The girlfriend who holds a mirror up to my ugly cry face.

Case in point: In November, just shy of my mom’s 90th birthday, she had to have a toe amputated. Sure, it was a little jarring to hear about, but after I got over the initial shock, the jokes just wrote themselves.

Now admittedly I have a funny bone. (My mom now has a couple fewer than before.) But I don’t easily offend, and I probably (OK, I know) say things that are absolutely inappropriate and vulgar, but I believe that at the core of humor’s magic is acceptance that the human condition is far too heavy to be faced solely with solemnity. Mel Brooks said, “Humor is just another defense against the universe.” And Garrison Keillor—one of my dad’s favorites—said, “Humor is not a trick, not jokes. Humor is a presence in the world—like grace —and shines on everybody.” I see it that way too. Grace.

My wish in this new year is that even as we acknowledge that the world is friggin’ haywire, and that life will undoubtedly keep throwing us stinkers, that we remember that laughter is grace. I hope to keep those I love in stitches and that those who love me back will grace me with their absurd hilarity too.

And I hope that within our pages, alongside any sadness, we’ll also find lots of reasons to laugh.

Allison

Allison Schuchman Editor in Chief

Shortly after writing this, I learned that a dear friend, islander Geri Hagan, passed away on January 1. Geri was hands down one of the funniest people I’ve ever met.She leaned into humor like a pro and the joy she spread was infectious. I’m heartened to know that somewhere there’s an angel watching over us while she’s watching Peaky Blinders. We’ll miss you very much. Rest in peace, sweet friend.