Topic 187: Laughter as a social asset

Carol:

Did you hear the one about the Priest who….

I really can’t think of any profession that doesn’t require a sense of humor. And that includes religious vocations. I haven’t seen a job description for minister, rabbis or priests, but people skills must be on the list, including not just compassion and patience but a sense of  “Humor In Uniform “

One of my favorite Mary Tyler Moore episodes revolves around inappropriate laughter. Chuckles the Clown, a rarely seen but often gossiped-about character on the show, dies under bizarre circumstances; prompting all kinds of jokes in the newsroom by Mary Richards’ colleagues. The always prim Mary is appalled at their poor taste and lack of respect for the dead. Later, Mary lapses into uncontrollable giggles during the minister’s eulogy at Chuckles’ funeral, then into loud guffaws as the rest of the attendees remain somber, even shocked at her behavior. The minister turns the situation around, encouraging Mary to “Laugh…Laugh for Chuckles,” at which Mary bursts into tears. This episode is ranked by TV Guide as #3 in list of televisions “100 Great Episodes of All Times” (source:  “Chuckes Bites the Dust.”)

A few months ago I went to a funeral for a judge who died in his early sixties after a  battle with brain cancer.  The church was packed with  colleagues, friends and family,  all of whom  admired and loved him as a special person of humanity and faith. Certainly there were tears and mourning, but the judge’s wife, son and large extended family chose to honor him with laughter and whimsy. Every participant in the service, every family member wore black trousers, white dress shirt and a large necktie from the judge’s own infamous collection of outrageous, gaudy, unique ties. Music provided by the folk choir his wife directed, and which he had belonged to for many years, included a recording with his voice.  How many people get to sing at their own funeral? His wife smiled, quipped and encouraged a spirit of gratitude for a life well-lived, if short, and for a dignity that was anything but stuffy.  The laughter followed us to the church basement after the service as we mingled with family over lunch, humor alleviating the awkwardness that often accompanies such social occasions.

In both funerals, the imaginary and the real, the tone of humor was encouraged by the “Pastor in Charge.” When I announce the music at our Saturday church service, I have learned to wait while ‘Father Woz” slips in a joke after the final blessing and before the last hymn. The congregation appreciates his humor, which often involves a story that sets up a pun or corny joke. Father Woz even self-published a collection of his favorite jokes to raise money for charitable projects. But, one of my favorite homilists is a big, tall, wide, loud convert from Wyoming who does a terrific job of poking fun at himself before he slides beautifully  into the gospel message.

I have no doubt that laughter is a social asset, but is it a spiritual one as well? I took me a while to wade through all the websites that popped up when I googled “Is laughter good for the soul?” but I found a website with Bible quotes. Proverbs 17.22 “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”

So, in honor of  Father Woz, I’ll end my essay with a joke:

Sources:
 “Chuckles Bites the Dust.” Wikipedia.  

Megan:

Laughter is my only social asset

So, maybe you noticed, maybe you didn’t… but we forgot to write on Friday. Mom had an early morning appointment and I was busy doing very important things that I not going to share because I cannot remember them. I know I walked 3 miles in the morning and then 2 miles that evening, but I remember nothing of the hours between except that at one point, mom looked at me and said, “Hey… we forgot to write our essays.” And I said I was too tired to write (on account of the walking 5 miles) so we left it until today, both of us hoping that the extra days would give us a chance to come up with something funnier to say.

Let’s see… what else happened this weekend? On Saturday, my father and I climbed Thumb Butte with the dogs. It’s not a long or difficult hike unless you are me, and you haven’t climbed that mountain in more than 15 years. So, we went up the shallow side and came down the steep side, and if you’ve ever hiked with a really strong puppy who doesn’t know how to heel, you know there are benefits and draw backs. Bella pulled me up the mountain, but nearly killed me on the way back down. Dad and I switched dogs halfway down, and by the time we got to the bottom, Bella knew how to heel. Afterwards, Dad commented on how different he was treated by the people we passed while he walked Bella instead of Milo. People smiled and talked to him while he had the puppy, but avoided him when he had Milo (probably because Milo looks like a scary dog). I too, have noticed the puppy phenomenon in the past, but on this particular day I was focused on staying upright on legs made of jell-o.

The rest of Saturday was spent running errands, going to see Horrible Bosses (which was hilarious if you like really bad language, which I do) and then dinner at a Mexican Restaurant. I managed to stay vegan with the entrée, but blew it with the sopapilla for dessert. It was probably this lapse that caused me to cut Sunday’s walk short because I had what my nutrition instructor refers to as McDougall’s Revenge (McDougall being the name of the doctor who wrote the book on the particular type of vegan diet we are attempting to follow). 

After I recovered, my father and I went to a Native American Art Show that he got free tickets to in exchange for allowing the exhibitors to park in his building. That was pretty nice except for and handful of white artists who called themselves names like Felicity Honeycomb or Terrence Ladykiller, which I thought might be offensive, but I couldn’t really tell if it was, so I was just uncomfortable. Then I saw a statue I liked and turned into the jackass who says too loudly, “Hey, that would go really well with our living room sofa.”

When I got home, I made a vegan pizza (again, not according to McDougall’s plan, but still so delicious). Mom had some, and she did this thing she does with everything I make, where she tells me how good it is and then she completely changes it. “This is the best pizza I’ve ever hard, “she said, and then added olives and real cheese.  I don’t take it personally, but next time she’s making her own damn pizza.

Finally, I spent the rest of Sunday re-upholstering a chair my mother bought from a neighbor for $5. I streamed Bones from Netflix to watch while I worked on the chair, and the entire project took 8 episodes. I was really enjoying myself and started thinking maybe this could be a new career path for me, restoring old furniture, but when I finished, I couldn’t straighten my back and my fingers were bleeding from repeated pricks by this giant curved needle, and I changed my mind. The chair looks awesome though.

I tried to take a "before" picture, but I forgot to press the button.