I think that each of has a life filled with comedy. We usually miss most of its performance because our day-to-day existence seems to get swallowed up by a pervasive sense of seriousness. When I say comedy, I mean in a classical sense: a series of actions that produce a happy result. (1) I remember some of the more notable comedic occurrences in my own life. Some of the most telling are certainly with growing up, becoming “a man” and courting, or dating, as we now like to say.
In my last year of elementary school, the more mature students began to talk about facial hair and shaving. I realized that adolescence was upon me. It was time to become Sir Lancelot — I loved Arthurian myth — I only had to find my Guinevere. (2) During the summer, I turned 13, but this milestone had no effect whatsoever on my face. It continued to be totally devoid of any hair. This produced the necessary fear of ridicule that would soon descend upon me with the beginning of high school in September. The necessary surreptitiously purchased creams and potions generated no positive outcomes, either.
I had a friend who was more worldly than me. He had a smidgeon of smudge on his upper lip. This led to the fawning respect that is necessary amongst a group of boys. We are a lot like wolves and desperately look for a leader of the pack. (3) After a bit of prodding, he revealed his secret. He was shaving. Say what? Yes, it was true. He was sneaking into his father’s shaving kit and using his razor to shave. Though the safety razor had long been invented, (4) using it was still a bit of an art, as I was to find out. My father preferred the electric razor and its usage seemed to be relatively straightforward. I snuck into his cabinet, plugged it in and proceeded to run this humming apparatus around my upper lip and face. All that occurred over a period of weeks was a redness on my face that my mother deduced to be an oncoming fever — I was a sickly child.
I confided in our sage hetman. (5) It was the blade, I was told. The electric device was only useful for the more mature beard. It could not stimulate the hair follicles by opening them up and allowing them to sprout. He spoke metaphorically and it made a lot of sense. Our family home had a garden in which I labored on a weekly and sometimes daily basis, depending on the season. I had to encourage the young shoots to open – of course! Now, I lived in a very small town. It was virtually impossible to raise your window blinds without your neighbor asking you if everything was all right. I, therefore, had to “pay off” an older colleague to purchase the safety razor. I had to help him with some unimportant chores if my memory serves me well. Safety is a misnomer, by the way. There was no safety or security involved here. We met in a prearranged location to receive the goods. I clutched my package as if it were a brick of gold. Here was the physical elixir to my romantic future, my first girlfriend. I would soon be on my way to becoming 007.
I arrived at home and couldn’t wait to lock myself in the bathroom to begin my transition from boy to man. My mater was at home, of course. She always had this horrible sixth-sense (6) that something was awry. Not knowing how to begin questioning me, she assigned some useless tasks to keep me busy and delay my ultimate quest. Finally, I was alone: my face, my razor — and the blade that must go into the razor — and me. After a little difficulty and some slight nicks and cuts, I got the “knife” into the apparatus. All was ready. I had seen it done so many times: left cheek, right cheek, and that intricate space just above your chin. I immediately knew that something was wrong when a large piece of skin fell away from below my bottom lip. This was followed by a searing pain that would make Attila the Hun (7) wince. Welcome to being an adult, I reflected to myself. Dr Seuss (8) leaves us with a thought: Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you.
A closing thought: Recently, I was in a large bustling coffee shop. There was no place to sit down. All the tables were occupied. I spied one man, however, who had sequestered two round tables: one to hold his coffee and the other to receive a stack of books, plates and the like. I asked him if I could use his table. He answered me in the negative. Rather flummoxed, I asked, “Why not?” His response was a rather dismissive, “find another seat,” kind of thing. I couldn’t help but laugh: how stupid! If we are going to solve the problems of the planet, we will have to begin to learn to give up our extra tables at a coffee shop. Wow: I hadn’t realized how far Western individualism had pervaded our society. We obviously have a lot of work to do!
To sum up: This week, we spoke about growing up and its attendant problems and complications. What seem like amusing events today were, at the time, extremely serious.
A philosophical question: Why are the following events concomitant: your lateness to an important appointment, the lack of fuel in your car’s tank and the length of the queue at the gas station?
Just for fun – Link in, Numb
This week, please reflect on your own special experiences of growing up.
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: You must remember to take yourself and your life adventure with an element of humor. Life is also supposed to be amusing, as well, is it not?
Footnotes:
1) Comedy
3) Wolf Reproduction Biology and Maturation
4) Razor
5) A Polish or Cossack military commander: also a “head man” in more popular parlance.
6) Yes, You Have a Sixth Sense, and You Should Trust It
7) Attila
8) Dr. Seuss