Paula Poundstone - The Totally Unscientific Study of the Search for Human Happiness

The Totally

Unscientific Study

of the Search

for Human

Happiness

PAULA POUNDSTONE

ALGONQUIN BOOKS OF CHAPEL HILL 2017

ALSO BY PAULA POUNDSTONE

Theres Nothing in This Book That I Meant to Say

Thank you, Robin

The experiments in this book were conducted over a period of seven years.

No dolphins were harmed in the process.

Contents

Introduction

Is there a secret to happiness? I dont know how or why anyone would keep it a secret. It seems rather cruel, really. If I knew it, I couldnt go to Target without stopping at customer service just inside the door, grabbing the microphone and shouting it, to release everyone in the entire place from their misery, and thats without even getting as far as the housewares section or womens lingerie, not to mention Haiti. Have you been to a bank lately? How could anyone holding the secret to happiness be so steely cold as to not give it away after seeing the faces of people in a bank?

They say ignorance is bliss. Im living proof that this is not true. Some people think money is the key. I used to have more money than I have now, though, and in fact, I was much less happy. Still, that only tells us that I might not have had enough.

We often wish one another happiness but only for brief periods of time: Happy Birthday or Happy New Year. I think most of us view happiness as an occasional lucky break from some form of drudgery that weve come to expect. So we would not presume to send along a Happy Birthweek card. That would seem like greedy overreach. Even the question Are you happy now? is only asked sarcastically.

Happiness is the trickiest of all of the emotions. It is elusive. If you crack an egg into a bowl and a small bit of eggshell gets in there, it slips away at every approach of your finger, but if you dont bother looking for it and just cook it up, youre likely to chomp down on it without even trying. Happiness is like a rogue piece of eggshell, Ill bet. I just dont know. If I did, Id run up to the snooty street north of where I live and yell, Put the yoga mat down; its not the answer, to all of the people getting out of their BMWs. It could be yoga, though. I hope not. Ive never enjoyed putting my foot in my ear.

Unfortunately, not only is happiness the most elusive of the emotions, it also has the shortest shelf life. It vaporizes. Most of us have found momentary happiness here and there, but no one that I know of has figured out how to make it last. No one has discovered the Viagra for happiness.

When I was young, I dont know how many times I sang that song with the words If youre happy and you know it, clap your hands and clapped as loudly as I could, never really reflecting on whether or not I was actually happy. I simply enjoyed the clapping and the subsequent foot stomping, jumping, and the fill-in-your-own-action-here that the song calls for. Maybe happiness can be achieved just by proclaiming it. Or by clapping. I dont know. Its a secret.

Where could it be? Is it deceptively simple? Is it on a bumper sticker? Did The Thinker go stiff just before he could explain it? Does it melt at a certain temperature? Can you buy it? Must you suffer for it before or after? It had better not be one of those rip-off answers as in The Wizard of Oz: You always had the power. If Glinda knew that, she should have said so earlier. The Good Witch of the North had a cruel streak.

We Americans are given constitutional permission to pursue happiness, but I cant say that Ive ever done so consciously. Dont get me wrong. Ive certainly done things that I have enjoyed in the momentI have a Ping-Pong tablebut I never planned on maintaining some level of happiness as a goal. I have often feared that if I were ever really happy I wouldnt get a parking space for a long time. Ive come to a place in my life, though, where I think its time to risk parking far away and walking.

I live in Santa Monica, California. I am an American. I am a single working mother with three children, twelve cats, a German shepherd mix dog, a bearded dragon lizard, a lop-eared bunny, and one ant left from my ant farm. I have been a stand-up comic for over thirty years. Based on current life expectancy, I am middle aged.

Now, I, Paula Poundstone, being of soundish mind, pledge to devote myself to the totally unscientific study of the search for human happiness and to record my findings here in this book for the benefit of mankind, naturally, but mostly for you, the reader. I know Im not the first to document such an endeavor. People have tried to unlock the secrets of happiness both before and after the advent of the Happy Meal. I cant help hoping, though, that it is through these particular pages that you find a bit of yours.

THE

GET FIT

EXPERIMENT

Conditions

I am not the sort who worries a lot about my looks. I notice, I just dont worry a lot about it. I color my hair only because HBO wanted me to, and that was just to get the service. I am about five feet seven inches tall, and I have played with gaining and losing the same several pounds for most of my adult life. I certainly wouldnt mind being beautiful, but if it takes more than a few minutes a day, forget it.

Hypothesis

Id often heard that being physically fit, however, could be a key to happiness and so it is where I began my study.

Variable

There is a little storefront studio down the street from my house in Santa Monica with a sign in the window advertising self-defense and taekwondo. One day, after getting my kids off to school, I walked down and signed up for some classes.

Field Notes

My back started to hurt about an hour before my first-ever professional physical activity training. I kind of hobbled in. There were two women just wrapping up their taekwondo lesson. They were taking high twisting leaps and yelling, Hyah! before teaching a big padded cylinder what for.

Mr. Victor King was the instructor. He did a rapid pretend assault on these women, and they successfully deflected his blows, following up with a series of elbows to an inch before his nose, and knees to an inch before his groin. They looked pretty advanced; they must have been learning to almost hit someone for quite a while. As a driver, Im a natural at that. I was really intimidated watching them do it with hands and feet, though.

I harbor a fantasy that since I dont like sex and therefore never seek it, perform it, look for it, dream about it, dress for it, hint about it, or purchase products that are sold by suggesting that if you own this thing youll get more of it, there must be some other unknown, untapped skill in life for which I have a gift. Deep down I was hoping that, especially because Id be an unlikely candidate, Id do a kick or two and this Mr. King guy would say, Whoa, I thought you said you had no prior training.

Thats right, Id reply.

Well, Ms. Poundstone, is it? Normally I start my students off at a beginner level, but Im going to ask if youll teach with me. I simply cant believe that you havent kicked the stuffing out of a padded thing before.

Instead, he got me started with some calisthenics, and Kleenex kept dropping out of my sweatshirt pocket as I staggered around the floor mats. I have terrible allergies. I cant go anywhere without Kleenex. If I were defending myself from an attacker, Id need Kleenex. My allergies are so bad I cant watch The Bee Movie.

Mr. King told me to do ten wind sprints across the small gym. This was a private lesson so when my breasts began to make a flappy noise, it was tough to pretend that I was not the source. I tried wrapping my biceps around them as I ran, which made me run like a really slow