Where I Stand -- Jerry Lewis: Giving is the greatest gift you can give yourself

"The things you keep, you lose.

The things you give away, you keep forever.

Forgive the parable, but lately I've been thinking about how apt that one is.

When we get to the autumn of our careers, when people say he's comin' around the 16th pole and heading for home, it's not a negative.

It's a positive.

Why? Because if you've done it all and done it well and life has been a ball -- you begin to look around more than ever. You not only smell the roses, but you connect with people you might not have had time for while doing your thing -- and being tunnel-visioned.

So now that I've slowed down and allowed my 6-year-old to control me, I find myself more aware than ever that there are people who haven't had the good luck I've had. I see people just as talented, just as eager, just as tenacious.

But the clover never showed up in their backyard.

Now, more than ever, I find that others should have had the same taste of good fortune I've had, but, for some unknown reason, it eluded them. Case in point:

I go to the Sporting House every night to walk and keep in shape. One night, I get stopped by Bernie Allen.

Bernie is funny. I mean really funny. The kind of funny that's in the DNA. In the bones.

"I want you to read my life story."

"Wait till you live one," I tell him, "and I'll read it!"

"Jer," he says, "I'm 84 years old. I'm runnin' out of gas. Could you help me get this script made?"

"Let me have it," I answer. "I'll read it and see if it has merit."

Bernie was thrilled. I took "The Bernie Allen Story" home and started scanning it, as I usually do until I find something worth slowing down for, to focus on. I went to page 1 -- and couldn't put it down!

The next night, I head to The Sporting House and wait for Bernie to show up. Each night, Bernie, Jim Muth (my trainer) and I have a small tequila, lemon and salt, and giggle for the 15 minutes before I begin my walk around the track.

"I've read the material," I tell Bernie, "and I think it's got great potential, but needs a lot of work." Bernie's eyes widen and the joy on his face makes me feel like a giant. We talk about how, when, where, why, who, etc. I tell Bernie that I'm going to make copies and send the material to some friends in the business whom I respect and who could do this project in a heartbeat.

Two days later, I ship scripts to Rick Ludwin, an NBC executive; George Schlatter, producer of "The Comedy Honors" and the originator of "Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In"; and producer Aaron Spelling -- all good friends.

And now we have to wait and see.

"It's in the hopper, now try to be patient!" I tell Bernie.

He smiles and nods, and we begin our silliness again while sipping that great Mexican blood thinner ... and then it hits me.

"Bernie, what if my company produces the script and we get it on that much sooner?"

The tears in his eyes touch my heart. We embrace.

And so we are going forward to make sure that a man who has given much of his life to making people laugh now giggles himself -- out of sheer joy.

The things you keep, you lose.

The things you give away, you keep forever.

JERRY LEWIS is a guest contributor to the Las Vegas Sun.

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