During a walk, when I first moved into my neighborhood, I came across a tricked out burgundy van. It displayed a caricature of Elwood Blues, one of the personas of actor Dan Aykroyd.

Of course, even thirty plus years after the movie, the Blues Brothers are popular characters in Chicago.

Under the face, in wide and colorful cartoonish letters was the name Van Aykroyd. And even lower on the van you could pick out the word, hankSy, which I assumed to be the name of the artist.

Not only was he skilled at whipping up a great likeness of a beloved character actor on a swatch of molded metal, he had a sly sense of humor. I was taken off guard and laughed out loud the first time, I saw Van Aykroyd.

I Googled “hankSy”and learned that he was a street artist based out of the Big Apple. Apparently, he was also a great fan of puns. And I saw that he was at it again.

On a recent walk in my neighborhood, not far from where I saw Van Aykroyd, I spotted a white van with the mustached and bearded face of actor Danny McBride. The vehicle, of course, bore the name, Vanny McBride.

I didn’t even know who the actor was, but I stopped in the street and found myself laughing. A second time around.

I remember a scene, a vignette, I wrote years ago. In it, a young couple was wandering through a video store (Remember Blockbuster?). They were discussing possible genres to look to rent for the evening’s entertainment.

The male partner wanted to pick out something from the adult section and his girlfriend took issue with this.

“How could you want to watch porno again and again? No matter what the title or premise, they’re all the same.”

Her sweetheart was quick to defend himself, reminding her, “Kids never get tired of watching the Wizard of Oz.”

I thought about that strange phenomena when I caught myself on the street in front of the pun on wheels, how something so familiar could still have the power to please. Why is something funny the second time around?

When I hear a friend tell a joke I’ve heard before, I’ll try to remain quiet and not jump in with the punch line. I might ponder how I’d tell the same anecdote a little differently. I’ll find myself amused by my friend’s efforts to surprise me.

But there’s something beyond loving the intention of the joke teller or prankster, to surprise and delight, which renders even an old joke funny.

There’s a shift that takes place inside you when you realize you could be a witness to a something unexpected. You’re in a state of openness and possibility. It’s being in this state probably more than the actual cleverness of a punch line, that brings on good feelings and laughter.

So I couldn’t help but laugh near the parkway where this white van was parked. The white van told a joke. The joke itself wasn’t surprising, but the vehicle was.

It was a good reminder that the possibility of humor is everywhere. Almost anywhere or anytime, you can walk into that space of openness and that increases the likelihood of liking what’s in front of you.

Being willing to be amused is no small thing.