The Ultimate “Class Clown”

Har-dee-har-har.

Verrrry funny. You’re a real joker, a laugh a minute. Yeah, you crack everybody up with what you say, you’re hilarious. You’re a riot, just priceless, always making jokes and acting goofy. You must think you’re some kind of top-notch comedian. And in the new book “Class Clown,” Dave Barry actually is.

When you’re good at making people laugh, the result is usually predictable: they’ll invariably wonder where you got your sense of humor. Dave Barry gets asked that question a lot, and look, he wrote “a whole book about it.”

Barry’s father was a Presbyterian minister, but not a handyman, the latter of which never stopped him from trying to build a house on a dirt road in Pennsylvania. The house was forever a work-in-progress, but oh, well - Barry and his siblings grew up happily semi-feral, as was typical in the mid-last-century when parents “often had no idea where their kids were or what they were doing” and the house sheltered them for decades, and so everything turned out alright.

But if it comes to specifics, when Barry’s asked where he got his sense of humor, he simply answers “my mom.” His father was a master at “self-depreciating” comedy, but Barry’s mother had “a sharp, dark sense of humor coiled inside her, always ready to strike.”

“They gave us Barry kids a wonderful childhood,” he says.

From that launching pad, Barry made it through puberty, unscathed, but barely. He attended college, got an English degree, found a passion for writing, and worked an “alternative service” job as an accountant before landing a gig at a small newspaper. Regretfully leaving journalism, he worked as a business schoolteacher while idly submitting past columns from his old job, unbidden, to random other publications that paid him an occasional few dollars for his work. And then, miraculously, ultimately, “despite my utter lack of direction,” he says, “I wound up with the best job any English major ever had.”

Here’s a bit of advice: when you first pick up “Class Clown,” be very careful. Watch yourself because author Dave Barry’s going to hit your funny bone over and over here.

He’s also going to put a lump in your throat. You can bet on that.

From his childhood in a half-constructed DIY house to his at-first-reluctant love affair with Miami, Barry tells his story with tongue firmly in cheek and soul steadfastly on his sleeve, just as readers have come to expect. Indeed, once in a while, Barry is actually serious in this mostly-memoir, writing about his parents, his mentors, and awe at his job luck, touching a reader’s heart before turning quickly and you’re chuckling again. So have a tissue ready, both for the sad parts and to dry your tears of laughter.

Filled with excerpts from some of his past columns as well as wonderfully fresh writing, “Class Clown” is quintessential Barry, perfect for readers of any age but perhaps most relevant for Boomers. Look for it, especially if you’re a fan. It’s very funny.