The Treachery of Somber Occasions

Every time I see that old Mary Tyler Moore rerun – the one where Mary gets a terminal case of the giggles at Chuckles the Clown’s funeral – it brings back so many memories of my own problems with this terrible affliction. I even picked up a good (?) coping skill from that episode: to go into paroxysms of coughing when such an occasion presents itself.

These episodes, from my personal experience, always happen at the WORST POSSIBLE TIMES. When my much-loved and sorely missed grandmother passed away, it was an unfortunate twist of fate that my brother was seated next to me in the chapel. In the middle of the eulogy, he leans over and whispers to me, “That priest looks like Bela Lugosi.” I could only cover my face, and hope that my shaking shoulders and real tears provided some cover. I will never forgive him for that.

Business meetings can be particularly treacherous. They can make or break careers. I worked in the hotel business for many years, and hotels by their very nature provide lots of grist for the inappropriate behavior mill. There were colleagues from which I would strategically position myself as far away as possible so as to avoid eye contact during convention planning meetings. Some of these meeting planners were, to be perfectly frank, blowhards and stuffed shirts. One catering director, after hearing a few too many menu changes and disparaging remarks about the wine list, formed her mouth into a sphincter-like pucker and flashed it right at me. I feigned a sudden gastric emergency and ran to the ladies’ room.

Another fast-track managerial star would punctuate awkward silences during these meetings by making heartbeat sounds in the base of his throat, just for my own private amusement. He always sat next to me. Thanks, Mike. A pox on you and your family!

Anyone who has ever sat through a company staff meeting knows how interminably boring they can be. One must find humor in order to stomach the boredom. I had one boss who was blissfully ignorant of the entertainment he afforded us. He was a master of mispronunciation, but mixed metaphors were his forte. Some of his better bon mots: “Renee, you’re just too brunt with people!” The flip side of that one: “Doesn’t look like we’re going to get the blunt of this storm.” My personal favorite, though, was this statement: “If the salt don’t get you, the adjectives will!” As his staff, we were able to control ourselves by writing down these little gems during the meeting, which made us look ambitious. Of course, we’d compare notes later and really let it rip.

Sadly, there is no cure for this disease, only coping mechanisms. When you feel a giggle coming on, think of something sad. Estimate your net worth. Focus on your lack of financial planning. Wait – that might be so sad, it could be funny...