As I get older, I divide people into those who have a sense of humor and those who do not.

I once stated this in a public lecture, and a fellow who could have played Uriah Heep put up his hand and asked, “Why?”

I responded, “You are evidently in the wrong lecture room. Go outside, walk down the corridor, and look for the place you need to be, because it’s certainly not here.”

Even after the audience collapsed into belly-laughter, it took him a while to get it.

The word “humor” is grinning cousin to the words “human”, “humanity” and “humus”, as in the good deep Earth. We don’t want to leave home without it, especially when life seems to be presenting very serious business.

I’ll admit that I make a second fundamental distinction between people. I notice there is a huge difference between people who have had some first-hand experience of Death, and what follows it, and those who have not. But humor remains primary. If you are going to meet Death, pack light and take your sense of humor with you.