Smile, You Will be Happy You Did.

Last night a mixed martial artist fought a boxer, in a boxing match. It was wildly anticipated, hyped beyond reason, advertised, talked about, waves of unrelenting publicity crashing across the nation, probably the world. According to reports it was a good fight. I didn't really pay much attention, before or after. It was an interesting mixture, though. Two angry, outsized personalities glaring for weeks. Face to face. Would it kill them to smile? Is that a sign of weakness? 

Musicians are the same, if you look at publicity photos of bands they seem sullen, angry. "I hate being popular and getting my picture taken." Smile, people like your music enough to want to see your picture in an advertisement. Why is smiling so shameful?

When our children were younger we used to go to the local water park or the zoo. It always amazed how angry people looked storming toward their cars. Did they have such a terrible time? I was almost afraid to go in, what horror had visited these poor people? Why were they so mad, stomping across the miles of burning asphalt, dodging the cars driven by angry patrons who had left in the moments prior? My wife said they weren't mad. They were just tired. But, they looked mad. Not talking to each other, not even looking at each other, they could have been strangers, enemies.

I made my family smile as we walked away, sometimes promising the dinner of their choice for a happy demeanor. We were freaks, outcasts, it never caught on.

I do the same with my wife. We go kayaking and we joke and laugh as we tie the boats to the top of the car. I hold her hand to prove despite time preparing to go, the hours of paddling around together, the carrying of boats back to the car we still like each other. It hasn't caught on either. In the words of the Grateful Dead, "nothin' left to do but smile, smile, smile."

"You're not doing that right." Echoes across the parking lot, husband, wives, girl friends, boyfriends, it is like the call of angry, dissolutioned birds. "The strap goes through the slot and over the boat. Don't you ever pay attention?" 

I ask my wife to check if I have the straps straight. "Do they look right?" It may never catch on, but our drive home is pleasant, our time together relaxing, our affection nurtured. And you know what, it makes me happy to make her happy.

Dang, I might be a genius.