Carol stepped out of the most recent rainstorm and into a yoga studio. The lady at the desk sighed as a rain puddle formed at Carol's feet and complained that Saint Pedro had failed to close the faucet again. Carol laughed at the joke. I laughed too when I heard it. With some notable exceptions, we didn't even know Brazilians told jokes. You don't get the jokes when you aren't from around here, their irony is dead to us and the satire is wasted. But it gets better. We are laughing more these days and recognizing colorful bits of humor against a here-to-fore grey backdrop of words and skies.
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