In times of crisis there’s a need for comic relief, and these are surely the most critical times most of us have ever experienced, yet there’s increasing reluctance here to continue scavenging for humor in the mortifying appearances of Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden.

A wrong word? A malapropism? They can indeed be funny. Hall of Famer Yogi Berra won 10 World Series rings as a player, more than anyone in big league history, yet he’s equally well known for garbled observations such as, “Nobody goes there anymore; it’s too crowded.”

The coronavirus pandemic is of such all-encompassing urgency that all other stories, including the upcoming presidential election, are momentarily overshadowed, which is good news for the Biden campaign because, at the moment, the only thing worse than having the electorate ignore its man would be to have it start paying closer attention.

Joe still looks presidential — Hollywood handsome with a smile that could illuminate Fenway Park.

But then he opens his mouth and non sequiturs tumble out, punctuated by awkward pauses.

No one wants to sound the alarm suggesting something is wrong with this candidate, yet clearly something’s amiss.

This is not the same Joe Biden who was elected vice president a dozen years ago. That Joe Biden was confident and charismatic. Today’s Joe Biden is 77 and seemingly confused.

That’s not a partisan attack.

At some point the voters are going to take a closer look at this man and ask themselves if they think he’s fit to take possession of the nuclear button, remembering if he’s elected he’ll turn 80 before his first term expires.

Is that a regrettable thought? Yes.

But is it an unkind thought? No.

Americans want and need strength in the Oval Office.

Shortly after George McGovern picked him as his running mate in the 1972 presidential election, it was revealed that Missouri Sen. Tom Eagleton had suffered from bouts of depression most of his life, resulting in several hospitalizations.

That’s all it took for Democrats to dump him, despite assurances from medical professionals that Eagleton was equal to the task.

Were they unenlightened? Perhaps so. But was their apprehension understandable? Absolutely.

Late in Ronald Reagan’s second term similar anxieties arose.

“My heart sank as he floundered his way through his responses, fumbling with his notes, uncharacteristically lost for words,” his son, Ron Jr., later recalled in a book. “He looked tired and bewildered.”

Does that ring a bell?

It sure does here, where bitter experience cautions that no problem gets solved by ignoring it.

After leaving the White House to begin what his family called “The Long Goodbye,” Reagan released this letter: “Fellow Americans, I now begin the journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life.”

Please, this is not a diagnosis.

For now, it’s simply food for thought.