Ever have a day when anything you attempt to help brighten things falls flat? That’s the story of my life.

Here’s how:

I often try to reach people through humor. I don’t mean that I see life as an interminable joke-fest but merely that I believe in the therapeutic qualities of laughter. And if that’s true, my students of more than 40 years ago have to be healthy. There are limits, and on occasion I’ve needed to make sure the person with whom I attempted the humor is comfortable. It’s also a joy, not to mention flattering, when the recipient of my humor pays me back in kind.

Starting work at the Optic almost 10 years ago, I noticed I’d become the second-oldest employee here, the oldest being Humberto Gurule, the proofreader I replaced.

Long-time pressman Michael Pacheco, 70, a jack-of-all-trades, is the second-oldest employee. The several Davids the paper has employed at some point — Giuliani, Kavanaugh, Romero, Torres and Wesner — must have been aware that I often wise-cracked, razzing them about a missed deadline, box score, ink barrel, proof-sheet or column, respectively.

And when it was time for them to pay me back, to rub in the fact that I’d fallen asleep at the computer, they’d tell me to shape up, or they’d remind me that only the minimum wage law protects me from getting paid what I’m worth.

But a minute later, invariably, one of them would say, “just kidding.”

That was to assure the then-sexagenarian and current septuagenarian that no offense was intended. None taken. I’ve enjoyed the teasing of this elder statesman and have noticed that one by one, each of the co-workers who reciprocates my attempts at humor has stopped saying, “just kidding.” That’s progress.

I can’t remember a period in my life when I’ve been without humor. One girlfriend of the distant past told me only recently that she couldn’t stand my inability to take anything seriously.

That’s probably why Helen became an ex-girlfriend.

But in fairness, let me explain that finding a light side to virtually any situation is not equivalent to an “inability to take anything seriously.”

A childhood friend, Wilfred, more than anyone I ever met, believed in “anything for a laugh.” Once, during a National Guard demonstration, he pretended not to know his left from his right. In what almost became an Abbott-and-Costello routine, Wilfred, cracked us all up. I believe the guardsman-instructor was secretly amused by Wilfred’s antics, wherein a “left face” command resulted in every guardsman, except one, facing left — until the commanding officer walked in, forcing the instructor to swallow his smile and act as if he had actually been mortally offended by such levity.

Later, in formation, Wilfred was made to hold out first his right arm, then his left, alternating them, while chanting, “This is my left and this is my right,” during the entire formation. Even while being disciplined, Wilfred deliberately raised his right arm when he meant the left, and vice-versa.

Watching Wilfred’s performance drew giggles anew among the troops, and when several of us laughed, well, the officer in charge ordered us to “wipe that grin” off our faces.

New to the routine, I simply shrugged off my grin. But the NCO insisted on being taken literally. Thus, we all needed to put our hands and/or our hankies to our mouths and symbolically scrape off our grin in order to erase any vestiges of enjoyment.

Humor is, well, quite enjoyable, but not to all. Unfortunately, generalized laughter sometimes makes others think the humor is being directed at them. That’s when they ask, “What’s so funny?” I’ve been asked that many times but have seldom been able to conjure up a suitable answer.

As a teacher, I used to think something was amiss if the students didn’t share a laugh at least five times during class. I kept up my average for years, until the building I had practically to myself — Mortimer Hall — got invaded by another department composed of quite staid folks who stayed and stayed.

That colonization came with a price. Accordingly, we were asked to tone down the jocularity. One colleague asked me how we got any learning done amid the laughter.

Oh, I see! You can’t incorporate both learning and laughter? Reminds me of those who’ll say, “Something’s wrong: those people are having fun.”

After hearing the laugh-fest emanating from my classroom, one of the new-arriving professors inquired as to what I thought was so funny. I would’ve been glad to tell him had he not given the strong implication that humor drives out learning.

I disagree. Relevant humor helps students retain the information better. It’s not as if we’d spend the entire period non-sequitiring. So when others of my profession approach with, “What are you (all) laughing at?” I notice they’re seldom smiling when they ask that.

• • •

Last week’s column on movie titles drew some response, most of which was that the first item was so abstruse that people gave up on the others. Here, then, are the answers:

1. Indict Us/Invictus
2. The Lads and the Cramp/The Lady and the Tramp
3. Mild/Milk
4. Wetness/Witness
5. Blind Side/Bland Ride
6. Spiral Top/Spinal Tap
7. Karmapuke/Marmaduke
8. Dame Fight/Date Night
9. Amusing Grease/Amazing Grace
10. The Bond Connector/The Bone Collector
11. Tanker, Sailor, Shoulder, Spa/Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
12. Morn, Then a Dame/More Than a Game
13. Tequila Mockingbird/To Kill a Mockingbird
14. Lame Mouse/Lake House
15. Loquita/Lolita
16. The Dog of Wag/The Fog of War
17. Social Nitwork/Social Network
18. Slender Jerseys/Tender Mercies
19. Berth of an Asian/Birth of a Nation
20. The Science of the Lamps/ The Silence of the Lambs