Using Humor to Smooth Things Over
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha ah.
I tend to find humor in lots of places. It’s like a trait, I think. Very much like saying, “I am a glass-full sort of person”. An optimist. Although, I do sometimes roll off that high and find myself in a sour mood where nothing seems funny. After menopause that got a bit better.
Menopause is where a person goes into high gear. Before they were quiet and just did their job. Going through menopause? I remember once I was talking to a lady on the phone. It was business and so we were both cordial and business-like. Maybe she worked at some sort of government agency. Maybe it was a bank. I don’t remember. What I do remember is cradling the phone against my shoulder and saying in a strained voice to her, “Wait a second. I need to take off my clothes.”
I realized immediately that what I had said was not business-like. I laughed and said, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I’m having a hot flash.” She said she understood completely. It took me a few seconds to get settled and we reverted right back to business. Something had changed though. It was the humor.
You can get over the rough spots with humor.
Once I worked in a military education center in Germany. I was a military occupational specialty librarian or the MOS Librarian. Essentially, a glorified clerk as I had no experience in running a library. I really enjoyed the job and as a young person learned to talk to adults for the first time in my life, other than my parents of course.
One of my duties was to talk to newly transferred soldiers to the base and introduce myself and what was available at the library. They would come to me in groups of 15 or so. I didn’t have to talk for more than 10 minutes but speaking in public was one of my all-time horrifying things to do. I would stutter. My eyebrow would start twitching. I once dropped a class in college just because I would have to make an oral presentation. So, stressful.
It was winter.
The building had been built sometime after World War II. Heating pipes, wrapped in what I think might have been asbestos, ran through the building on the ceiling. And there was air in them.
“Hello. I’d like to introduce myself.” Clang, Clang, Clonk, Shudder, Bang…bang…bang.. “My name is” Blast…gork..clang..bang.. “Pauline”. One of the soldiers put their cupped hand over their ear and shouted, “I can’t hear you ma’am.” Their sergeant stood at the side.
Somehow, we got through the basics of the talk. The stress I was feeling fell away when I could only view it as a hilarious situation.
It’s funny now when I think about it, but it is easier for me to speak in front of people now. I should remember that the next time I need to speak and feel my eyebrow start to twitch.
The place we were at was, of course, secret. It’s still there. People who lived in the area knew about it. But regularly MPs (military police) would meet you at the front gate with M-16s in their hands. Sometimes, in high alert times, they would pass a mirror on a long stick under the car to make sure we didn’t have bombs underneath. That was some 40 years ago.
At the time the place crawled with high-ranking officers. Generals from all the services were there. It was a joint command headquarters. We used to get excited when we’d see an enlisted soldier, they were so rare.
I was at my job in the library and had just finished talking to my husband on the telephone. The phone rang again and for some reason, I just assumed it was Dennis. “Hello Honey?” It was a two-star general on the other end of the line. I apologized all over the place explaining that I thought he was my husband. He told me I had just made his day and we both had a good laugh.
Who better to laugh at than yourself?