Pathos and Humor

I'm waiting for a slow little old lady to leave my office.  The sun is shining in the garden, but only briefly, before the skyscraper across the street obscures it.  A couple of people are circling the fountain, arguing.  Or maybe they're acting, practicing - they suddenly smile and laugh.

I told a friend of mine that I had to pause for laughs at my reading last week and she seems surprised.  "You write things that are funny?"

"It's a secret," I said.  (Actually, I didn't.  I don't remember what I said, so I made it up.  That's why it's "Creative" non-fiction.  Or, "It's composed" as one of my professors would say.)  Most of the stuff I write is somewhere between pathos and humor.  I can't seem to separate the two.

Anyway, my reading ended up being a kind of performance - something between an essay and a monologue and maybe a comedy routine.  My boss seemed to like it, and his friend who came with him said "like all good comedy, it was deadly serious."