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September 3, 2005
My special talent
From Lani, all about the bad jokes...
I have a special talent. Well, it's not that special, and it's not really a talent so much as a mammoth ability to ignore reality. But, it works, so I go with it. Basically, I am the person who can make random humorous small talk in the midst of almost any tragedy. This may sound cold-hearted, but I say nay. Here's why.
When I was 12, my father died. Suddenly. Out of the blue. From nowhere. Suddenly, gone. It was very tragic. All sorts of horrible things and the ripples are still rippling in my life now, 23 years later. The one thing that I remember is that every time anyone looked at me, anytime anyone spoke to me, it was always with that hushed voice, that "I'm so sorry for your loss," pity, and I really hated that. Sympathy is one thing, but pity makes me nuts. There's something in the pity which insinuates that whatever tragedy you're experiencing, you're totally incapable of handling it. That sucks, and it makes you feel like crap. Even worse is the fact that people who pity you mean well, so you can't even blame them.
Anyway, I would have killed for someone to have told me a bad joke. My dad was huge with the bad jokes. He especially loved puns. Used to make me cringe. I'd have given my Atari (if you're too young to know Atari, don't tell me) for one person to have just said, "So a priest, a rabbi and a gecko walk into a bar..."
So, ever since, that's been me. When tragedy strikes I do what I can which is useful - do what I can to help, make a donation, bake a bundt... okay, so I've never actually baked a bundt, but you know what I mean - and then it's Hammer time. So, in the face of the horrible tragedy in the Gulf Coast, here we go.
And a warning. I wrote this joke myself. It's completely original, and very, very, very bad.
This priest, this rabbi and this gecko walk into a bar. The priest plunks a fiver down on the bar.
"I'll have an Irish Whiskey."
The bartender takes the fiver and serves him up. "There you go, Father."
"Bless you my son."
The rabbi plunks a fiver down on the bar.
"Manischewitz, please."
The bartender takes the fiver and pours the wine. "There you go, Rabbi."
"Mazel tov," the rabbi says.
The gecko plunks down a fiver. Before he can place his order, the bartender pockets the five and starts to walk away.
"Hey," the gecko says, "I didn't place my order."
"Yeah," the bartender says, "and I didn't save shit on my car insurance."
See? Told you it was bad. And that's just what this tragedy needs. A really, really bad joke.
And it just so happens, that's my special talent.
Posted by Lani at 7:35 AM | Comments (7)
Comments
Hey, Lani, that's a pretty good joke.
When my dad died, also unexpected, my mom and I were at the funeral home making the arrangements. The guy kept referring to his as the departed, which gave me weird pictures, and speaking in that soft, pacifying voice. My mom and I were rolling our eyes at each other. He was so awful, it took our minds off why we were there.
Both my mom and I tend to laugh when we're nervous, so we were getting perilously close to losing it. Then he asked what we wanted to do about "the garments." That was it. We went into hysterics, laughed until we cried. He looked appalled and went off in a huff. We laughed harder. We laughed all the way to the car, where we broke down and cried, but when I think of that visit to the funeral home, it still makes me smile today.
Yeah, I guess you could call that a bad joke, a very bad joke, but it really helped get a lot of that tension out of the way, and got us through a very hard time.
You've got the right idea.
Posted by: beejay ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.literarychicks.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at September 4, 2005 1:04 AM
I'm glad it's not just me. When my mum died a few years ago, my sister and I talked on the phone numerous times a day and laughed A LOT. We kept worrying about what people would think of us and then I just thought - screw it - if it helped get us through then it couldn't be bad.
My dad is also hugely insensitive and at my mum's funeral my sister and I saw the coffin and were inconsolable. My dad walked up with a packet of polos (Lifesavers?)and, without acknowledging our upset, said, 'Want a mint?' It was so inappropriate, so ineffectual that we laughed then and we laugh every time we think about it now.
Posted by: Keris Stainton at September 4, 2005 6:07 AM
That was a perfect groaner Lani!
Fortunately I haven't really lost anyone in my life. I don't know how I would handle losing a parent or a partner.
Posted by: goodapple at September 4, 2005 10:56 AM
Lani,
That was a funny joke! I laughed out loud. Saw your book in Publix Supermarkets in Palm Bay, Florida. :) Very cool.
Rachel Hauck
Posted by: Rachel Hauck at September 5, 2005 10:44 AM
I too prefer to be useful instead of standing around saying how sorry I am. When both my parents died, my immediate reaction was to go into action mode, do what needs to be done. I'm no good in terms of saying anythign that doesn't sound trite when it comes tragedy. I remember trying not to laugh at my grandmother's funeral, I was so freaked out by the whole open casket thing. So, thanks for the jokes. I'm off to donate to the red cross.
Posted by: elizabeth at September 5, 2005 1:02 PM
I don't have anything insightful to say about your post, I just wanted to tell you, as one of the original luuuuvvvvv thang gals, that I'm knocked up! Check my blog for details. Luuuuvvvv you Lani!
Posted by: Jennifer Jacula at September 5, 2005 10:33 PM
Lanie groaner but a good'un!
I think there's always folks who take death seriously....then there's my family. We're the folks who bury our dead and laugh and tell jokes and drink beer at the wake. I even remember when my mom died a couple years back (out of the blue) my cousin and I sitting in my bedroom laughing and crying while we picked out funeral music.
Posted by: Cee Cee at September 6, 2005 10:40 AM
