Harnessing the healing power of snark
Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
The other day I walked into our bathroom to find what I thought was my towel carelessly flung on the floor, while my husband’s towel was hanging neatly on its hook.
Me: “Why is my towel on the floor?”
My husband: “That’s not your towel, it’s my towel.”
Me: “Oh. Then why did you throw your towel on the floor and take my towel?”
My husband: “I didn’t take your towel-I upgraded it.”
Last weekend I was invited to go to a Southern Living party. I guess I had an image in my mind of it being all sophisticated and elegant, things which I don’t consider myself to be, so I was pretty much planning on staying in the background. So you can imagine my surprise, and my relief, when I overheard the following comments.
“Grannie, do you want a beer?”
And,
“Isn’t it funny how easily your fake nails catch on fire when you’re using a lighter?”
After that I knew I would fit in just fine.
Recently my husband has been excited to find some new friends with which he can play video games. While I am an excellent wife and companion in many ways, I do not share his enjoyment of gaming. So it has been good for him to connect with others who do.
Last weekend one of The Gamers arrived at our house and announced: “I just went to Blockbuster and found The Best Game Ever! You’re a samurai, and you wake up one day, and all of your body parts have been stolen. You have to go out and fight the bad guys who took them so you can like, get your arms back and stuff!” [Read more…] about It Was Somebody’s Job To Think This Stuff Up
1. My husband and I spent the Christmas holiday with his parents, in their newly renovated mountain home. We were all gathered in the living room on Christmas Eve, in that nice, mellow, semi-hypnotic stupor that comes from knowing that there is nothing left to prepare for the next day, and that all of your loved ones are together in one place.
As we were discussing the arrangements for attending Midnight Mass, I saw my mother-in-law look over her assembled family and prepare to speak. I thought she was going to talk about how nice it was to have everyone all together, or discuss what a pleasant holiday it had been so far. Instead, we all witnessed the following exchange:
My mother-in-law: (to my husband) “So, what do you think about cremation?”
My husband: “You mean, as an alternative to going to church? Um, I’d like to go to church.”
2. Christmas Eve is also my husband’s birthday, so my family and his family got together for brunch to celebrate with him. As I was walking back to the table from the restroom I heard someone say, “Well, for that you really need your own bazooka.” I was afraid to inquire any further.
3. A new acquaintance explaining their entry into the world: “I wasn’t born. I was gifted down to people from the gods.”
We’re pretty excited here in blog land because this is our very first post that we’ve ever done from a remote location, and not sitting at home in our office. But despite my new feelings of technological mastery I clearly have some more work to do before I reach the levels at which my husband and father-in-law are currently residing.
Here is the conversation that my mother-in-law and I were having on the way home from dinner:
My MIL: “See how they’ve decorated all the lamp posts in town with those white lights.”
Me: “That’s really pretty. Remember when they used to have those really big multicolored lights? I really miss those.”
Here is the conversation that was taking place between my husband and my father-in-law in the backseat.
My husband: “Tonight after the movie we need to get started on that black belt level Sudoku puzzle.”
My FIL: “What we really need is a copier so we have enough sheets to try out different possibilities.”
My husband: “We could generate a spread sheet in Excel to do that for us.”
My FIL: “I bet we could even create it so that it checked to make sure that all of our totals were correct.”
My husband: “What is the total?”
My FIL: “What’s 9 factorial? Is that it?”
My husband: “No! 9 factorial is huge!”
My FIL: “Oh, you’re right. What was I thinking?!”
(Snorts and chortling laughter as they realize their mathematical gaffe.)
Clearly, I cannot start drinking eggnog soon enough.
Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
Well, here we are once again, smack dab in the middle of another holiday season. And I don’t know about you, but I think that for me personally, my ability to see things in a slightly quirky way and find humor everywhere is one of the main ways that I keep myself sane during this time.
So in that vein, I offer you these “What?!” moments from my family’s Thanksgiving experience this year.
1. You know how all those commercials on TV show families getting together for the holidays, and everyone is having all of these deep, meaningful, emotional moments? Well, that really doesn’t happen in my family. When my family gets together it seems to bring out our Giant Collective Family Smart Ass. Here’s an example of what I mean.
On the day before Thanksgiving my mom took me, my husband, and my brother out to lunch. We were going to a restaurant that we hadn’t been to in a while, and my mom wanted us to see if we noticed anything different about the shopping center in which it was located.
My mom: “So, can you tell what has changed?”
All of us: “Hm, no.”
My Mom: “Look! All the trees are gone. They were having a crime wave, so they cut down all the trees!”
My brother and my husband: “Those darn trees! If you’re not watching them every minute they’re out mugging you, or stealing your purse, or something! It’s a good thing they got rid of all of them!”
2. Another good things about getting together with family for the holidays is that it gives you a chance to see that, no matter how regular or normal you think you are, to someone else the things you do will seem like the strangest things that they’ve ever heard of. And here’s an example of that.
On Thanksgiving evening during a break in our family card game I had to use my parents’ downstairs bathroom. As it turned out, this particular bathroom was having some flushing issues, and none of the “tricks” I knew were fixing it.
When I reported this to my parents they said, “Oh, yeah. What you have to do is to fill up the trash can with a little bit of water, throw the water into the toilet, and then flush it.”
They might as well have said, “What you have to do is spin around in a circle three times, and then hop up and down on one foot while patting the top of your head and chanting a special hymn to the god of plumbing.” Because there was as much chance of my coming up with that little routine as there was of my intuiting the whole water-in-the-trash-can solution.
3. But my favorite part of getting together with other people are the times when something so unexpected happens that everything comes to a screeching halt. That is the epitome of a “What?!” moment, and is exactly what happened to my family in the following example.
In all outward appearances, it looked like a storybook holiday moment. It was Thanksgiving evening, and we’d all enjoyed a nice dinner together as a family. We were all gathered around the kitchen table, chatting and sharing stories, while my husband made homemade ice cream.
Then all of a sudden my mom, who grew up in the 50’s and 60’s when women still wore gloves, whose family discussed the finer points of etiquette at the dinner table, who I’ve never once heard swear or curse, who is always pleasant to everyone and is the epitome of “being a good example” said to me:
“You know how you were talking about crap earlier?”
Me and The Whole Entire Universe: “What?!”
And for the record, I still have no idea what she was referring to. I have a hazy memory of someone trying to introduce bat guano as a topic of conversation, but that’s it. (Don’t ask).
As much as I want to tell you that I consistently spend the bulk of my time in deep, meaningful reflection as I ponder The Meaning Of Life and How To Positively Affect My World, I just can’t. Well, I guess I could. It just wouldn’t be the truth.
Here’s why. As I move throughout my day I am constantly seeing, hearing, or reading things that are REALLY funny, especially if you look at things the way I do. And very often these funny stories involve topics that are pretty much the opposite of anything deep or meaningful. So then I am always faced with this choice: Do I let the humor go and try to maintain an image of polish, culture, and refinement, or do I tell the funny story? And of course, telling the funny story ALWAYS wins.
So here’s what happened today.
My husband called me this morning just to say hi and chat, which I always enjoy. Suddenly, apropos of absolutely nothing he said, “Did you know that there is someone out there who makes their living by providing prosthetic dog testicles?”
Me: “What?!”
My husband: “Yeah. It makes you wonder what they do with the originals.”
Nuh-uh. What it makes me wonder is, “Why on earth do you know something like that? And how do you even find that kind of information?”
Well according to him that kind of knowledge is readily available on the Internet (Important Side Note: although it’s not on any of the sites I personally visit). In case you’re wondering, he also passed along the helpful tip that if you Google “replacement dog testicles” you can read the original article.
Me: “It would never IN LIFE occur to me to combine those particular words.”
My husband: “Well that’s just in case you don’t know how to spell ‘prosthetic’.”
We now return you to your regularly scheduled day.
I’ve been very conscious of my mind lately, as I have been making a concerted effort to quiet down the mental chatter that is frequently taking place in my head. So this weekend after much breathing, visualizing, and cognitive retraining I was able to connect with a place of intense inner stillness and quietness.
And what did I encounter in this amazing place of clarity? A deep insight into the mystery of life? A powerful connection with the Divine? Actually, yes. But in the middle of those incredible experiences, somehow there was also still room for the following thought:
“Whatever it is I think I see, becomes a Tootsie Roll to me.”
So what that says to me is that apparently, I will never truly understand how the mind works, no matter how much I may study it.
For example, why is it that I often have trouble remembering simple things like my age and my phone number, yet I can recall almost the entire sign language alphabet which I learned in 1977 when I was in kindergarten?
And it’s not just my mind I don’t understand, either.
This weekend my husband and I were visiting some friends, one of whom was telling us about her brother’s recent wedding. She began by describing how her brother called her on a Thursday to tell her that he was getting married that following Monday. So she and her mother decided to fly out and help with the preparations. After running around all weekend they finally made it to the day of the wedding, and she and her mom were with the bride-to-be as she was getting her hair done for the ceremony.
Our friend: “So, she finally found someone to do her hair. He was a little person. You know, that’s what you’re supposed to call midgets now.”
Us: “Huh. That’s different.”
Our friend: “Yeah, so as he was doing her hair and riding around on his scooter…”
Us: (interrupting with snorts of laughter)
Us: “What?! He was riding a scooter?!”
Our Friend: “Well, yeah, because he couldn’t walk. So, anyway, I had to be his assistant and hand him his tools because his partner had to go out.”
Us: (the snorts have become shouts now)
Us: “What?! He was a gay midget hairdresser?”
Our Friend: “Yeah. But his partner isn’t a midget. He’s a regular-sized person.”
At this point further conversation became impossible, because my husband was laughing so hard that he was crying, and I was laughing so hard that I fell off of their couch and onto their living room floor.
But believe it or not, that was not the funniest part of this story. The funniest part was the fact that our friend told us this story with absolutely no reaction whatsoever. She. Never. Laughed. Once. And she honestly did not understand why we were in hysterics. She told the story in a tone of voice that suggested that gay, scooter-riding, hair-dressing midgets are a time-honored, traditional part of everyone’s nuptial experience.
I don’t really have anything more to add to this story, which I truly believe was a gift from the humor heavens. So to close, I will share with you the additional mental gem I received during my weekend of quiet contemplation:
“Pass, pass, pass, pass the Old El Paso.”
I have just returned from a fantastic four-day retreat, the theme of which was “Wild Child Wisdom”. As you can probably imagine, spending four days with thirty-one other “Wild Women” created the opportunity for a number of “What?!” moments. Below I have listed my favorite moments for your reading enjoyment.
The center where the retreat was being held was an hour away from the airport into which we all had to fly. As the arrangements were made to transport us all to our final destination, I ended up riding with someone who had rented a car and wanted people to ride with her and help her navigate. As anyone who knows me (or has read this blog) knows, I am a little challenged in that area. (And here in Atlanta, it gets a little warm in the summertime.)
I really don’t think I have the words to do this story justice, so I will just give you all the ingredients and let you imagine it for yourselves.
1 Car
3 Women
2 Passengers, Neither of Whom Are The Driver, But Both of Whom Are Prone to Motion Sickness
Only 1 Front Seat
3 Sets of Directions, all starting and ending at the same place
3 Sets of Directions, all of which were completely different
Believe it or not, nobody puked, we did finally get there, and we were actually on time. I have absolutely NO idea how that happened. Voodoo, maybe. You never know exactly what’s gonna happen when you get a whole bunch of women together.
Once we had all checked in, we were each given a goody bag filled with amazing gifts that different artists, writers, and other creative folks had donated for the weekend. In order to make sure we didn’t miss anything, our fearless leader and retreat organizer went through her goody bag in front of the whole group and called attention to all the items one-by-one. I think this particular item was our favorite.
What she said: “And here is an offer for some business coaching.”
What we all heard: “And here is an offer for some bitchiness coaching.”
What we all said: “I don’t think any of us need coaching in that area.”
After we got all of our goodies we went around the circle and introduced ourselves. One of the women spoke about how coming to this retreat was a really big deal for her because she often had problems getting out of the house and being around groups of people.
“But,” she said, “this is great. You guys aren’t irritating me at all!”
I think that will be filed that under the heading of, Most Dubious Compliment Ever Received.
Next the evening was dedicated to various small presentations from different members of our group, describing the different workshops that were coming up over the next few days.. One of the retreat participants who specializes in event planning helped to organize all of this, and she said that her husband was a bit, um, taken aback by some of the phone conversations he heard during the planning phases. One night he hesitatingly inquired about a particularly disturbing call, asking,
“Um, honey, did I hear you asking about fairy wands? And, were you wondering where to put them?”
So we made it through our first evening, and then the next morning I was hailed by a fellow retreatant who stopped me to inform me that, “Hey, last night my roommate and I did a ‘Jenny’.”
(Important Side Note: If someone claims to have “done a Jenny”, most likely it will not have been something good.)
“We got off the elevator, and we didn’t know whether to turn left or right. You’re contagious.”
That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I hoped that people would become fans of my blog.
All too soon the weekend came to an end, and it was time for us to say goodbye. As I was walking around the room hugging everyone, I got to one cluster that included the keynote speaker for the weekend. She is a pretty well-known author and speaker in the art and creativity world and as I approached, I heard the woman talking to her say, as if it were the most normal conversational response in the world,
“One day you’ll have to go out on the balcony and show your tentacle.”
Clearly that was not the moment to join that particular conversation.
Finally it was time to go home, and I was fortunate to be on the same flight as one of my fellow Wild Children. She was remarking on how excited the airline seemed to be about the fact that they had five different snack choices for us, and she said,
“You do realize that we’ve only heard the annoucement about what to do in case of a crash once on each flight, but we’ve just heard the announcement about our snack choices for the eighth time.”
Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
As hard as it is to believe, school will be starting here again in the next 3 or 4 weeks, and it will be time for me to start tutoring again. In honor of my imminent return to work, I offer these “What?!” moments gathered from my own past work experiences.
From my work as a tutor…
Student: “Will you take me to get my belly button pierced?”
Me: “No.”
Student: “Why not? I really thought you would.”
Me: “What?! Why?!”
Me: Performing a frantic mental review of every interaction I’d previously had with this student, wondering how I’d possibly given out the message that I was someone who would accompany teenagers as they voluntarily allowed others to drive very sharp needles through various parts of their body.
From my work as a bookseller…
9:00 am: The store opens.
9:01 am: An outrageously incensed gentleman approaches the info desk, where I, of course, am on duty.
Customer: “Hey! Last night I was reading a book, and I left it on that table over there. Now it’s gone. What happened to it?!”
Me: (assuming my Kindergarten Teacher tone): ” Well, at night, after we close, we put all the books back on the shelves.”
Me: looking slowly around the store to convey the subtle message that we, in fact, keep all our books on shelves and not in piles on the furniture.
December, in the middle of the holiday shopping madness
A customer corners me in the back of the store where I am unsuccessfully trying to blend into the romance section.
Customer: “Excuse me, ma’am, but where is your display of luggage ?”
Me: stunned into silence
Me: (certain I’d misheard somehow) “Um, excuse me?”
Customer: “Your luggage. My son was just up at your other store, and he told me all about the great luggage he saw there.”
Me: struggling so hard to keep a straight face that I’m sure my eyeballs are going to pop right out of my head and drop onto the floor
Me: searching desperately for a tone that does not at all suggest that I am in any way mocking the customer
Me: “I’m sorry. We don’t sell any luggage.”
There was ABSOLUTELY NOTHING I could say to convince her that we, the BOOKsellers, working in the BOOKstore, were not secretly hiding a cache of incredible luggage in the back, selfishly hoarding it for our own present-giving needs. But luckily for me, her poor, embarrassed husband could take the humiliation no longer and eventually pulled her away.
And to close I leave you with this statement, which I was told actually formed part of a company’s “Visions and Values”. According to this document they were actively seeking employees with, “the ability to make quick decisions in the absence of facts and information.”
