Comedy: July 11, 2012 Issue [#5144] |
Comedy
This week: Finding Comedy in the Midst of Tragedy Edited by: Sophurky More Newsletters By This Editor
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Hi, I'm Sophurky ~ your editor for this edition of the Comedy Newsletter, which is dedicated to my mom, Phyllis . This month we'll talk about the art of finding opportunities for comedy even in the midst of sadness, which can be a great skill to utilize in our writing. |
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Finding Comedy in the Midst of Tragedy
For those of you who read my Spiritual Newsletter "Spiritual Newsletter (June 27, 2012)" a couple of weeks ago, you may know that my mother, Phyllis passed away after a brief illness at the age of 84 on May 31. While that may seem to be an odd way to start a Comedy Newsletter, I wanted to write about it in this issue because even though it was a difficult time for my family and all those who loved her, there were many moments of lightheartedness and laughter while she was hospitalized and during the days after her death as we planned her "Celebration of Life" service. When my father died ten years ago after a long illness, we also found many opportunities for laughter and humor - not all black humor! - that helped us get through the difficult time.
So why am I writing to you about this in the Comedy Newsletter, you are still asking yourself? Because when we are writing something serious, whether a drama or tragedy, it can often be helpful to the story-line to interject comedic moments, since that's how "real life" happens. Whether it be black humor, or just something amusing, humor is an integral part of life, even in the midst of more serious or dramatic situations. And as all writing ultimate reflects what it means to be part of the larger human family, based to some degree in truth, it's only natural we would include comedy within those situations.
For instance, soon after my mother was admitted to the hospital our family gathered around her bed with some dear family friends. Two brought guitars and many of us were singing what we thought were some of her favorite songs, songs my dad had sung for years with his old steel dobro guitar. As it turned out, most of them were old gospel songs about leaving this earth for heaven. "I'll Fly Away," "This World is Not My Home," "Peace in the Valley," and "Lord Build Me A Cabin In Gloryland." As the singing continued Mom had tears streaming down her face, and when we took a break in the singing so a few could go get lunch, my sister and I remained with Mom and asked her if she liked the singing and if that was why she was crying. She shook her head and said no, opened her eyes, and said, "I'm still here, I'm not gone yet. Why are they singing all those songs about going to heaven? Why is everyone in such a hurry for me to leave?"
My sister and I burst out laughing, and we assured her we were in no hurry for her to leave; we just thought those were some of her favorite songs of my dad's. We agreed that when the others came back, we'd ask them to change their song list and quit singing about the angels beckoning her from heaven's open door, or flying away some glad morning. So of course, after their break, the first song up was The Cat Came Back. ▼
Old Mister Johnson had troubles of his own.
He had a yellow cat that wouldn't leave his home.
He tried and he tried to give the cat away.
He gave it to a man goin' far, far away.
But the cat came back the very next day.
Yes, the cat came back, we thought she was a goner,
But the cat came back, she just couldn't stay away.
So he gave it to a woman goin' up in a balloon.
He told her for to take it to the man up in the moon.
The balloon came down 'bout ninety miles away.
Where the woman is now, well, I just can't say.
But the cat came back the very next day.
The cat came back, we thought she was a goner,
But the cat came back, she just couldn't stay away.
So he gave it to a man goin' way out west.
He told him for to take it to the one he loved the best.
The train hit the curve, and then jumped the rail.
Not a soul was left behind to tell the awful tale.
But the cat came back the very next day.
Oh, the cat came back, we thought she was a goner,
But the cat came back, she just couldn't stay away.
But the cat came back the very next day.
Yeah, the cat came back, we thought she was a goner,
But the cat came back, she just couldn't stay away.
If you click on that dropnote and read some of the lyrics, you'll understand why it made us laugh even harder, especially Mom! And in our case, there were many many many more verses than the ones I've shown here, and each time, the cat just kept coming back. There were many other moments of levity and even some belly laughs, which were a welcome relief from the somberness of each day. Some Mom provided for us, others were ways we made each other laugh over silly things. Of course we cried together as well - but the laughter was just as important a part in our healing and grief as were our tears.
One of the things we laughed the hardest over involved my brother's wife, who is in a rehab center for help recovering from a stroke. Because of her condition she couldn't visit Mom in the hospital, but she called regularly to check in. One day she called in tears and told my brother that she was being accused of stealing her roommates shoes (by her roommates crazy daughter), and until it could all get sorted out, they had confiscated her shoes as well. Of course she did not steal the shoes, but she was hysterical having been accused of such a thing (and of course, overreacting to it because of her own grief at my mother's imminent passing). As my sister, niece, and I got wind of what was going on as we listened to my brother's side of the conversation, we started joking about shoes and making up names for the whole "shoebaucle," as evidently the social worker was going to be opening up an "shoestegation" about the whole thing. Such as:
"We've got to get to the bottom of this shoespiracy!" said my sister.
"I hope they find the heel who did this! That person has no sole." said my niece.
"They've got themselves a real shoestroversy over there!" I added.
"Will they be hiring a shoestegator?"
Then my brother sang, in reference to one of the aforementioned songs about heaven he'd been signing to Mom the day before, "I got shoes, you got shoes, all God's children got shoes.... Except Sue." We all hoooted and laughed so hard the nurse came in to check on us, and eventually we even got my sister-in-law laughing about it too. And there was something so very poignant and raw and just plain real about the whole thing. It's one of my favorite memories from the whole ordeal, and something that still makes me smile.
When my father was dying ten years ago, a friend sent me a book by Anne Lamott. It was her first novel, and is a great example of good writing about a family tragedy (semi-autobiographical, I'm told) balanced with humor. It's still one of my favorites - which chronicles a family dealing with the impeding death of their father. There are laugh-out-loud moments in the book, as well as ones that will make you sob, and she finds a way to blend it all in a realistic and familiar way. I highly recommend it.
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So what about the rest of you? Have you found a way to bring comedy into your drama? It can be tricky, as you want to make sure to be true to your story and not have the moment(s) be forced or inauthentic. The best way I know how to do that is to revisit personal situations of your own, maybe even write them as part of the story, in a fictionalized manner. Because nothing is more natural or authentic than something we've been through ourselves. What do you think? |
Below you'll find some of the more recent comedy offerings from other WDC members. Don't forget to leave a review and rating if you read the item.
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Now for a few comments about my last newsletter "Comedy Newsletter (May 16, 2012)" about putting our house up for sale:
From Fi
Got a good laugh out of that one. It's always good to look at things in a laughable light. I love reading comedy, but I'm no good at writing it myself. Hope to get some practice and make something of it. Good luck with selling your nice wet-dog smelling house!
Thanks so much, and for those of you playing along at home - our house still has not sold! But it doesn't smell like a wet dog anymore - it just smells of defeat.
From THANKFUL SONALI Library Class!
I thought wet dogs smell good because they've just had a bath or been out in the first rain or something! ...
Um, thanks but no, not really. Wet dog smells more like .... I don't know, maybe feet?
From LJPC - the tortoise
Hi Sophy!
No offers on the house? After all that work and expense? Dang. I hope the COW you might be living in soon won't smell like wet dog (or cat pee). My mother's house in CT just went up, and no offers either. Think there's anything to these recession rumors after all?
Good luck!
~ Laura
Yeah Laura I don't know - we still have had no offers and we even lowered the price a bit. Maybe the rumors are true? Good luck with your mother's house. Would she like to buy a nice clean one in Illinois?
From drjim
Soph! Any idea how we can get in touch with those "Godesses of Grit", those "Damsels of Dirt"? Up here in New England, why, a whole platoon of them would be great! Keep on writing the 'funny bone' stuff! Dr. J
I'm not sure mine travel that far, but I'll be glad to ask!
That's all for this month -- see you next time! And on behalf of the other regular Comedy Newsletter Editors, the King and Queen of Comedy - Robert Waltz and Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ - remember to WRITE AND LAUGH ON! Sophurky |
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