Falling off cliffs, getting hit by buses and other social gaffs

Hi. I am either back or I found some time to write whilst in the States. Forgive me if I am a little creaky, it has been a long time. It is great to be back because not only is blogging a great way to discipline myself for writing but it is also a much cheaper alternative to psychotherapy. Ask Annoyed. Although in his case, I don't think its working.

Another great use for blogging is to get a measure of what may or may not be socially appropriate at certain given times - Seinfeld made a hugely successful show just delving into such issues. So I am going to throw myself on the court of the bloggers. You are the judges and jury on what perhaps may be deemed as a social "faux pas".

I was invited to dinner at my oldest friend, JG's new house this past Monday. We have known each other since we were 11. I have known her husband since we were in college in Boston, There is a lot of history there and so I feel pretty comfortable in the environment, even though I haven't seen them in donkey's years. They have invited another friend of theirs, one of JG's husbands work colleagues. He is younger, on the cusp of 30, and is very nice. Maybe too nice to be in the presence of Pog when she gets going.

The evening continues. So far so good. Politics, religion, who is the "real" James Bond - all the important contentious issues avoid and replaced with interesting yet low risk banter. We were talking about the Alive Guys, cannibalism and the grossest thing that you have ever seen - all during dinner. Then the subject of the guy that cut off his arm when it got trapped in the rock came up in conversation. (A little aside, JPD is really skeptical about this whole story even though they found the arm! Argghhh!)

So it turns out that this guy is a climber as well and his grossest story dovetails nicely into the conversations and ties the two threads, gruesomeness and climbing, together so well. I love when that happens! He tells this horrible story about this family on the top of a cliff he was climbing. They were standing there and the father of the family slipped and fell off the cliff. This guy was on the rock wall and saw him go by! He repelled down the cliff as did his friend to find the guy alive but with his head caved in. Terrible. The guy I was breaking bread with ran for help and his friend stayed with him as they guy died. They could hear his family screaming from the top of the cliff.

What a terrible story! And it was. We should have left it there seeing as how he still seemed shaken by the whole thing, as you would be, but I had one more story to tell. You see, another friend of mine, whom I did my Master's at Trinity in Dublin with back in the day, married an English guy. When his parents came over for the wedding - this was in California - they took a trip to Yellowstone National Park. While in Yellowstone, the father of my friend's new husband, falls off a cliff. Slips. Falls. Gone. When I was told this story by my friend, years after it happened, she said it in such a way that it struck me as funny. It must have struck her as funny too because we both kinda laughed nervously. It was an odd moment because the mere fact of us both laughing inappropriately, made us really laugh. Terrible really.

So what happens? I tell this story and start to laugh again! This time I really let it go. And my friend JG, she starts laughing too, God Bless her. Her husband says to me, "Pog! Oh my God" like I am doing something wrong and their dinner guest is now looking at me like my hair has turned into a nest of vipers. So I make it worse by trying to explain the nature of comedy to them through my giggles.

"Some tragic things are just funny", I say laughing, "I mean, people get hit by buses. That's funny!"

At this time, JG is howling laughing and her husband is trying to hold it in because his work colleague is still looking at me in disbelief and he has to work with this guy. I tried to explain, hit by a car = tragedy/hit by a bus = comedy. There is a formula.

Dinner moved on, but the air had changed. JG was delighted with it all which is all that matters really. She has already told me to avoid the busses when I get back to Eire. I have been mildly embarrassed at bad moments when I think back but most of the time I like to evoke the adage, "Screw 'em if they can't take a joke."

By the way...
Check this out. I came across this when I was looking for a link for the Alive soccer team. Whenever you think you may be insane, I think you can gauge yourself against these people - sort of a litmus test for wackos.