To wrap up the week I am going to ask you to join in on a couple of goofy but fun things that happened to me this week. Please participate if you feel so inclined. Continued laughter is always a good thing.
First off, I heard a hit song from 1975 the other day and I have not been able to get it out of my head.
I have to admit, I turned the volume up and had myself a good time listening to this song of insanity. As I smiled and hummed along I started to count the ways in which Paul Simon explains you can leave your lover. You can:
1. Slip out the back, Jack.
2. Make a new plan, Stan. (is this one of the ways to leave or is it what you do when an attempt has failed?)
3. You don’t need to be coy, Roy. (this is not a way to leave, this is advice on how to act)
4. Hop on the bus, Gus.
5. You don’t need to discuss much. (more advice, not an actual way to leave)
6. Just drop off the key, Lee. And get yourself free. (it’s that easy?)
According to my calculations that is only 4 ways. So my question is this – where are the other 46 ways? When I cued up the song on youtube lots of people had left comments suggesting other ways to leave. The first person suggested “push her off the cliff, Cliff” which, to me, was a zero on creativity. There have got to be more inspiring ways than that. Can you think of any? Perhaps we really can think up 46 more ways to leave your lover. I doubt it, but maybe.
My second bit of fun this week came at work when a system-wide memo was released from our workplace with the word “public” misspelled as “pubic”. Once we’d heard about it and laughed about it, my friend stood up from the table and said she was off to the “pubic washroom”. I then added that the faux pas must have been ”pubicly humiliating”. And so it went. Feel free to add to this ridiculousness. I am dying to see if you come up with some new ones.
With the amount of television sets and computers in the average household today, siblings sure have it easy. When I was growing up there was one tv and one tv only. Having 3 brothers meant a lot of compromise when it came to choosing a tv program. But there was one show that we all agreed on – even my parents often joined us to watch this one.
So what does this have to do with the letter k? The actor who played one of my favourite characters was Bernie Kopell. He headed up KAOS, the international organization of evil. The chemistry between Maxwell Smart and Siegfried was comic perfection. I think their relationship qualifies as the very first example of the word ”frenemy.” I am obviously not the only one with fond memories of the show. Go here to find everything you ever wanted to know about Get Smart. I always think of Siegfried when he says “Vee don’t (raspberry sound) at KAOS!” Hilarious! Almost 50 years later and the humour speaks for itself.
Did you watch Get Smart? What was your favourite character? Tell me in the comments below!
Wow. That’s a heavy title for a blog post isn’t it? Half of me is laughing about it, the other half is wondering if people will just conclude I’m insane. I love – LOVE – laughing and maybe I shouldn’t admit this but some of my fondest memories are of laughter at times of tragedy. One of my very favourite authors – Dr. Gordon Livingston – says this about humour. “The truth is you don’t have a sense of humour; it has you. Given the eventual tragedy of the individual human experience, all humour is gallows humour, laughter in the face of defeat.” In this spirit, let me share a bit about the 6 months I spent with my Mom between her diagnosis of terminal cancer and her death. In those 6 months the two of us actually managed some really hearty laughing sessions. One occasion sticks out clearly in my mind. The two of us attended a funeral visitation for the mother of a mutual friend. The funeral home had done quite a bang-up job on presenting the body for viewing. As we were driving away from the funeral home our conversation went like this.
Mom: Did you ever meet her before? I mean, when she was alive?
Me: Yes, I met her once briefly. Did you ever meet her?
Mom: Yes, I was at a dinner party once and she was one of the guests. Did you find her to be attractive when you met her?
Me: Well, not particularly. I mean, she was pleasant-looking but not necessarily attractive, why?
Mom: Because she sure made one hell of a good-looking corpse.
Oh my god, the laughter that ensued! Even as I am writing it and remembering it, again I am laughing my ASS off. And to think she was wearing a wig, bald from her chemo treatments fighting the same disease that had taken the woman. Laughing about a funeral visitation when she was so close to her own end. Some might call that macabre – I call it survival.