Laughter, the best medicine

I just want to say one thing right at the top here, before I get into my actual topic. I am a firm believer in personal indivduality and expression whatever form it takes. I don't want to live in a cookie cutter world, with cookie cutter people who have cookie cutter ideas. (I do however wish I lived in a world where all schools required uniforms - but that's a rant for a different time)

That said and personal freedoms being upheld, I reserve the right to laugh at or with people who choose to express themselves in a bizarre, oops I forgot to look in the mirror today kind of way. Or even those (especially those) who DID look in the mirror and despite what was actually there, said "Damn I look good this way. I think I'll go outside now." Now, Iknow the interface between brain and mirror can be deceiving, or else there would be no anorexia to name just one instance. But really people. Maybe you could ask someone else if they think you've got it going on before you actually put the keys in the ignition and head out into places with strangers.

On second thought, don't. Its too damn amusing to the rest of us and the the world needs more laughter. Everyone says so. Especially those nice, save the world types. So in fact you are creating joy and harmony in the world's population. A noble, noble cause without doubt.

This weekend at the Concert in the Park, featured the worlds loudest zydeco band (I'm not sure they're billed that way but as a safety precaution they should have been) and I experienced lots of world saving laughter . First came the butt crack of a 20 something who sat down on the ground in front of me, in pants that were so low waisted she couldn't have NOT showed her butt crack even while standing in line for funnel cake, and yet, when my sister (who is more kindly than me or the other 15 people in our row) got up and told her, the girl seemed geniunly surprised. Really? You didn't feel the sunburn starting on parts that, unless you're Brazilian, rarely get sun? Or the tickle of the grass, in your actual butt?

Then there was the 60 something, overweight clown lady. Now I don't want to be too mean to her because honestly she seemed genuinly excited about her outfit and since she walked by holding up a banner once in a while she was obviously doing it as attention getting advertisment. And it worked. She got my attention. I don't however, remember what the banner said so I don't know what she was advertising, but I do remember her. Suffice it to say that she upped the worlds joy in tangible amounts.

Then comes my favorite. The giant man in tie-dye and a red felt Viking helmet. He absolutely falls in the category of "Damn I look good in this. I think I'll go outside now". Bald, 6'5" or taller, and probably 375 pounds, he wore his blue, yellow, green and red tie-dye with confidence, and sported the too small, red felt pointy Viking helmet perched on the very tippy top of his head. So full of confidence was he that he walked up in front of us all and sat very straight in his very tall chair, obscuring the view of the worlds loudest zydeco band (although sadly, not the sounds) and allowed us all the pleasure of continuous viewing of the brightly colored mountain of himself. I did notice a wedding ring on his finger and yet he was by himself. Somewhere in Santa Clarita was a woman hiding in her house with a pint of ice cream, mumbling to herself in defeat.

So you see, not only do I support personal expression, I love it, even though I know that on some days I provide just as much joy and laughter to others as they do to me.

Because not only will laughter save the world, but laughter is also the Best Medicine. (And the Reader's Digest is never wrong!)

Step Right Up Folks - You'll Win A Prize!

Its good to know that even the strangest things you do in your life can end up being useful later on. For example... When I was roughly 22 I ran away to the carnival and for six months was an actual "carney". (And alothough I'm sure the life long carnies would disagree and have some sort of mean newbie name for me instead, I can't seem remember that far back into the mezazoic era) . And I didn't exactly run away, although I did pack my car and leave in the dead of night, since my mom was there to see me off and my husband at the time was waiting at the midway for me. But for the sake of all things funny, lets keep saying I "ran off to the carnival" (at least I didn't run off to the circus, since I was not nearly fat, tattooed, hairy, double jointed, or two-headed enough for that)

While working on the midway I got an education in Marks (that's you people) and how to get them to hand me scads of wadded up dollar bills just to win prizes that no one outside the alternate reality of the carnival would even bend over to pick up. I learned how to talk fast and say valuable things like "hit one - you get one!", "Every dollar wins you a prize!" and "do NOT hit me with that dart!" And I learned how to eat hot dogs and left over roasted corn at 8:00 in the morning. You would think that I would have found a use for these talents of increadible usefulness before now, but honestly, and I know you won't believe me, but outside the midway you just look like a crazy person if you yell at people and wave darts or rings or ping pong balls around at them. Its true, I swear! (not that I've tried, really, no I haven't).

And so I hid all those hard learned lessons away in a box somewhere and only bought them out to amuse (and sometimes horrify) friends. After telling people that I used to travel with a carnival I have caught some suddenly checking to see if I really do have all my teeth (which I do) or asking me if I did a lot of drugs (which I didn't). But mostly its funny. I mean, who walks around thinking a 40-something, frumpy looking mom was every anything other than what she appears right now? Hey, I think I just thought up a new game to while away the hours watching mykid at dance, gymnastics or girl scouts. Find the most harmless looking mom and see what you can picture her doing in her past. Maybe she used to be a madam, running a stable of 23 girls, maybe she was a gun runner for a cartel in Columbia, maybe she was a secret follower of voodoo, or maybe she was a fire eater (That last one is me too, but that's a story for a different night).

But regardless I put all of the things I learned from the midway away and haven't had the chance to use them again, until now.

Because finally, after all these years since my time as a joint jockey, these skills will be taken out of their rusty, cobweb covered box and be put to good (if not somewhat watered down for the kiddies) use. Beware mother, fathers, grandmas, grandpas, aunts and uncles of Highlands Elemtary (Sydney's new school), and bring ALL of your wadded up dollars, cause there will be a real live carney on the midway Fall Carnival this year.

;)

Be Back Soon

I just wanted to let you all know that I will be getting back to blogging soon. I'm working on a short story for a magazine submission and my brain apparently only works in one direction at a time. See you soon! :)