We are not amused!

The state of the world does not amuse me at the moment. I’m not even going to get into the stupidity I see from my fellow humans, not only those who are in power and misuse it but also those who believe and act on information from less-than-credible sources. Sometimes I wonder if there’s any hope at all for humanity. Then I look at some of the postings on Facebook, earrings with miniature rolls of toilet paper attached touted as a keepsake from 2020, a photo of many rolls of toilet paper individually wrapped in Christmas paper with the caption “My Christmas Shopping is done.” There are many others that make me smile and I’m grateful for those folks who take the time to make me laugh. I know some people say that there are certain things that are too serious to laugh about.  I’ve always maintained that those are the very things we need to laugh about.

            Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain there is a conversation held in a university drama class. We were debating the differences between comedy and tragedy and there were logical arguments aplenty. Someone ventured that comedy occurred when the serious consequences of an action were removed and proceeded to site examples of what happens to cartoon characters when they get pushed off cliffs or hit over the head with frying pans. The birds chirp around their heads briefly and then they get up and get on with it. The speaker just about had us convinced when the prof, a man who, with his neatly cropped hair, neatly trimmed moustache, and white button-down shirt, looked a bit out of place in a 1970’s drama department, interjected with a story of his own.

He was in a tank unit in WWII. One of the tanks became stuck and there was close enemy fire. He drove his tank up to the stationary one and yelled to the man inside. He said a very red face popped out of the turret and out of the mouth came “The fu**in’ fu**er’s fu**ed!” The head then disappeared only to reappear a second later with the final words, “fu** off!” The prof said despite the seriousness of the situation, he wept with laughter. I don’t remember if he even told us what happened to the stranded tank.  Clearly, he returned to tell the story. He followed up with an observation that the line between comedy and tragedy is a very thin one. 

One of the ways I deal with situations, such as the one in which we currently find ourselves, is to skip back and forth across the line. So I will be washing my hands; I will be staying in far more than I am used to; I will be watching parrot and cat videos and I will be saying ‘thank you’ not only to the people on the front lines and those who must make hard decisions in the face of this pandemic, but also to the ones who take the time to point out the ridiculousness of some of our behaviour and, who by doing so, make me laugh.

            Wash your hands, keep in touch with each other using all the wonderful technology we have at our fingertips and, if you can, give someone the gift of a laugh.