Christmas, of course, calls for reverence and awe, deep humility, which is the perfect time to laugh. Curiously, the more inappropriate laughter is to an occasion, the harder and louder we laugh. We snort and choke, struggle mightily to rein in our outbursts, as those around us scowl and cast looks of utter disgust. Adding fuel to the fire.
Excusing ourselves is an option, but rarely a good one as it tends to draw attention. The lurching and helpless staggering, the hand over the mouth — dead giveaways. You can try to pass it off as illness, but no one’s that dumb. Or charitable. They all know and they all judge harshly.
So we rush to hallways and lobbies, a handy restroom, and erupt in hysterics — forgetting for the moment how clearly sound carries. Until we hear our merriment bouncing off walls and echoing for miles. We curse the Doppler effect and go right on laughing.
Churches, funerals, libraries, ceremonial events, any place solemn and dignified acts as a trigger. Humorless people, too, set us off and there is no shortage of those around. They’re everywhere. Use them to your advantage. In today’s topsy-turvy world, laughter is about all we have left. So do it well. And do it loud.
May I get you started?
copyright © 2016 the whirly girl
the whirly girl 
4 responses to “: a little holiday blasphemy :”
I’m a firm believer that there is no inappropriate time for laughter. After all, it is just a release of emotion. You brought to mind one of my favourite ever episodes of television. It was the death of Chuckles the Clown on the Mary Tyler Moore Show. Hysterical stuff!
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Wasn’t that brilliant? I think that might be my favorite single show ever. Although there was a Simpsons episode when they went to family counseling and ended up zapping each other with electric shocks — it was hilarious. Oddly enough, James Brooks was the genius behind both series. Go figure.
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Those are great quotes. I fully understand how laughter rears it’s ugly head at the most solemn of times. I was an altar boy at a funeral one Saturday in my youth, and the bloke on the other side of the casket started snickering. I looked at him and lost it. Here we are, following the priest around the casket with the incense, choking back laughter about what, we had no idea. I felt so bad when I looked at the mourners, but there was nothing I could do about it. Well, you made me remember it.
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Oh, how well I know those moments. They’re embarrassing at the time, almost panicky, but they make great stories later. When people stop scowling at your behavior.
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