DICTATORS NEVER LAUGH, but carefree persons do. Overly serious individuals risk ill health as a result, and I believe that was me when I got sick, had UC, and ended up in hospital for a total of five months, surviving by virtue of a proctocolectomy. Afterward, although it took me a while, I came to realize how toxic is too much seriousness. I turned a corner into a more carefree perspective on life. I won’t cite all the writers I read, but over time they convinced me that absurdities were worth a laugh and not worth getting over-wrought about. “Man,” grinned Ken Kesey, “when you lose your laugh you lose your footing.” Kesey was a writer who was a link between the Beat Generation of the Fifties and the hippies of the Sixties, right about when I was struggling with my identity. He was seven years my senior and named his daughter Sunshine. When I found myself in law school, right when the Sixties were coming to a screeching end, I found myself surrounded by overly serious people. Most of my classmates through those three years weren’t there to save the world for the downtrodden, and I was pummeled for my overt criticism of the Vietnam War. But I could laugh at them. Maybe they were all scared they were going to flunk out, but I never saw more humorless, grim faces in all my life. Bald as I am now, I had the longest hair in my class then, bushy you might say. We all get more philosophical as we age, but there needs to be a sense of humor associated with all that reflection. Simply put, it is a key element of good self-health care. “You can’t really be strong,” Kesey said, “until you see a funny side to things.”
I am not sure that dictators never laugh. There was one here that had a toothy grin most of the time. I have said before that those of you who live in Western democracies are lucky. I am apolitical, but some of the family is in politics. A cousin and I were once picked up during political unrest and taken to a safe house. A splendidly mustachioed and uniformed officer asked us, "Have the two of you ever been in jail? You won't last a week over there." The cousin gave it back to him, one of the very few who can do so because he has many followers himself. Others are not so lucky. Anyway, like you have said, laughter is the best medicine.
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Hiya Bowsprit: I would counter that the "toothy grin" was not laughter. Rather, it was his way of looking down at his perceived subjects and showing his disdain. Our wannabe dictator Trump grinned often, but it was an obvious put on. I never saw him laugh. Stay well.
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Hello HenryM.
I do agree that for many of us who have the advantage of age and experience to help mellow the seriousness of life, we can perhaps appreciate humour in ways that were not always possible when we were younger.
I will share with you some of my thoughts from ‘Laugh or Lament’(pp 51-59), so we might ponder this subject a little more:
Best wishes
Bill
“I oft’ recall what my mum said
to “laugh a lot before your dead”.
EDUCTIVE HUMOUR.
To ‘educe’, is to draw out’. Therefore, this next section will discuss those aspects of life, where humour can be drawn out of people and events even though logically there should be little or no humour present.
In fact, these situations often (or maybe even should) invoke emotional responses such as extreme sadness and tearfulness. However, inappropriate as it may seem, some people will laugh when logically they should cry.
“I wonder when we will know why
we tend to laugh when we should cry”.
My first example of this phenomenon must surely be that of hitting one’s ‘funny-bone’.
Anyone who has experienced this accidental blow to their elbow will readily relate that it is far from being ‘funny’ as it is often excruciatingly painful and completely out of proportion to the sometimes minor blow that caused it.
There seems to be a whole range of social and psychological forces at work to encourage the sufferer to view these incidents as humorous rather than tragic. Not least of these is the fact that it is almost always called the ‘funny-bone’, rather than the elbow.
People witnessing this event in someone else, invariably show empathy by laughing and indicating that they know what the victim is suffering and yet they associate it with being ‘funny’.
The term ‘funny’ in this context might possibly mean ‘funny-peculiar’, but that does not explain the implied mirth which accompanies the empathy.
What is most peculiar, is that invariably the victim will quickly fall into line with the accepted social concept that having this happen to them must somehow be humorous. This prompts them to diminish the outward signs of discomfort and pain to give the impression that they too think it must be funny and seem reluctant to admonish their peers for laughing with or at them in their otherwise distressed state.
It is as if there is an unwritten norm, that having had the experience oneself, it is legitimate to laugh when it happens to someone else.
This might be a subliminal form of empathy between fellow sufferers. If this conjecture holds some truth, then, in theory, it can be exploited in other circumstances, where hurt and sadness can be subtly changed into humour.
The effect of this may well result in people avoiding the emotional social and psychological angst which often accompanies unfortunate life events.
“If fun and laughter are combined
an illness can be undermined”.
My present focus at work is partly with the elderly and disabled, which opens many opportunities to brighten up their days with humour in one form or another.
At this point, it should be explained that I do not restrict the concept of humour to telling jokes, stories or empathising with people’s life-woes.
It is my belief, that some the most potent forms of humour come with a smile, or at least with some form of non-verbal facial or bodily expression or demeanour which indicates that I am genuinely trying to be friendly.
This seems to be especially relevant first thing in the mornings when people are only half awake and sometimes reluctant to face the day.
I bear this in mind when managing my own ailments at the same time as helping others with theirs.
A typical mildly humorous incident happened this morning when an elderly man forgot to bring his glasses with him out of the house.
When reminded of this, his retort was that his wife should try and find his brains whilst she was looking for his glasses.
Immediately following this quip, he remarked that: “On second thoughts she needn’t bother, as he didn’t often use them during the day!”
This raised a laugh with the rest of the elderly passengers, who were murmuring their own agreement with his sarcastic comment, as if, from personal experience, they too knew exactly what he is getting at.
There seems to be a somewhat prejudiced impression within the uninitiated population, that most elderly people have dementia and those with dementia have no capacity at all for thinking rationally.
The example above seems to be ample proof that folk with ageing minds are not necessarily dementing. Indeed, they are a constant source of banter and amusement about their variety of illnesses and ailments.
“If, when we’re ill we can still smile
our meet and greets seem more worthwhile”.
Given that the ‘smile’ is both an important concept and a tool in social interaction, in terms of the responses of laugh or lament, it is afforded more attention than some of the more ostentatious elements of modern humour such as the joke or the funny story.
For me, the smile epitomises a subtler and sometimes subliminal form of humour which rarely gets the publicity or credit that it deserves. Sometimes the smile is not shown in the traditional characteristics of the upturned edges of the lips, but in the sparkle in someone’s eyes, which indicates that they care and that they wish to make someone else’s life ‘better’.
Occasionally, a smile can be implied by a look, a phrase or a comment about something that is covertly shared within a group or between individuals. Possibly due to a conversation which may have happened some -time before. Or maybe the result of an ongoing conversation to which only a few individuals are privy.
At one point in my life, I spent six weeks sitting with elderly people in their communal home, so that I could better understand that experience from their perspective.
It very quickly became apparent, that these people were having a prolonged continuous conversation interspersed with lengthy pauses. Only those sitting with them continuously, would have any chance of understanding what it was they were communicating to each other. Anyone passing or listening to just one fraction of such a conversation, did not have any chance at all of understanding what it was they were saying.
In fact, from a psychiatric assessor’s perspective, they probably would have been deemed to have ‘disjointed -thinking’. It was only when these outsiders had ‘passed-by’, that the conversationalists could be observed smiling silently and somewhat covertly to each other as if sharing the knowledge that the fleeting observers would have got a completely wrong impression of them and their intellectual abilities.
A SMILE.
Although a smile can break the ice
and make a friendship bloom.
There’s more to smiles than being nice
and lifting people’s gloom.
If genuine, a smile can bring
a reciprocal reaction.
It can make a sad soul sing
and give great satisfaction.
A smile can play important roles
in opening social doors.
Especially for those poor sad souls
not fitting social mores.
A smile expresses friendliness
and puts people at ease.
Alleviating loneliness
and helping hearts unfreeze.
A smile can be the leading light
that shows people the way.
To lift them from their worldly plight
and brighten up their day.
A smile can mean so much to those
whose days are hard and long.
It’s been known to metamorphose
hard hearts who seem so strong.
A smile is worth its weight in gold
to people when they’re frail.
For when you’re getting very old
smiles help to tip the scale.
A smile should be both genuine
to show love and respect.
Otherwise, it might ruin
those things we should expect.
B. Withers 2018
MY SMILE.
I’ll smile at you each morning
to brighten up your day.
Not because I’m fawning
or out to get my way.
The smile you see upon my face
is just one minor part
For every smile comes from a place
so deep within my heart.
My smile is not a false façade
concealing malintent.
It indicates I’m trying hard
to make our time well-spent.
My smile erupts from deep within
and from my chequered past.
It shows I fell but upped my chin
and smiled again at last.
The smile you see is one of choice
not laboured or unreal.
It represents a silent voice
expressing how I feel.
My smile contains a kind of love
which I would like to share.
So other folk can rise above
their troubles and despair.
When I smile, I hope that folk
impart their angst to me.
So they relieve their heavy yoke
and start to feel they’re free.
B. Withers 2018
“Though illnesses of old age creep
a sense of humour you should keep.”
One of the most impressive aspects of the old people who I meet is their ability to have a sense of humour despite the many illnesses and ailments which afflict their lives.
Some of their conditions are chronic and have been with them for such a long time that there is a resignation on their part that there is nothing further they can do to allay the inevitable development of things getting worse rather than better.
“Is it daft to wonder why
people laugh when they should cry?”
Jokes and humorous comments abound which give recognition to the inevitable continuance in their deteriorating conditions. However, there is a parallel sentiment that the worsening physical conditions will not affect their positivity regarding the rest of their existence. Even with the severe and constant physical pain that accompanies things like arthritis, they remain resolute about staying positive in their outlook.
“Don’t buckle under all your woe
a chuckle is the way to go.”
Joking about their illnesses in no way diminishes their empathy for others with the same conditions, in fact, it seems to strengthen the bonds between them in their daily banter about how getting old is not an enviable position and it can only go downhill from here on in.
“No matter what the path you take
There’ll be a laugh that you can make.”
Some of the humorous comments and jokes are repeated week after week but nobody points this out in a derogatory way. It is much more likely that someone will quip a comment about how they are becoming more demented by the day and then relate the latest ‘funny’ story about how their memory has let them down in a simple and somewhat ridiculous way.
The open and honest ‘ownership’ of these stories make the whole circumstances of ageing seem more acceptable because people feel they are not suffering these things alone.
They joke about what the doctors tell them and about the multitude of medication they are obliged to devour just to stay alive. A few of them take so many pills first thing in the morning that they can joke that they don’t need any breakfast.
“Miles better than a doctor’s pill
is raising smiles when folks are ill.”
They find humorous things to say about how embarrassing it has become to be so dependent on others for help with daily tasks. They joke about how young some of them are compared with others who have past their century.
Many jokes abound about the telegram from the Queen and how they might feel when certain politicians or celebrities might visit them in hospital.
“Now I’m one hundred, this will mean
I get a message from the queen.”
They fantasise as to what they might say in response to preposterously insincere conversations, conducted for the photoshoot and post-potential positive publicity.
They seem to have retained much cynicism from their previous experiences in life about people in the public eye and the reasons that they pretend to ‘care’ for the sake of the camera.
“When you visit my sick bed
is this for me or you instead?”
Occasionally, some of them show remarkable insight into the motives of those few individuals who care yet are not seeking publicity for their caring behaviour.
These elderly people are quick to pinpoint and acknowledge all the little things that are done on their behalf to make life a little better for them. This usually results in unadulterated praise for those folks at the bottom of the many hierarchies of control in the organisations upon which they depend.
“I praise the people who I see
have come to raise a smile in me.”
It is in these tales of altruism, that simple things such as ‘smiles’ and pleasant demeanours are elevated to levels of supreme significance for people who are sensitised to who might make things better and who are likely to aggravate an already unbearable situation.
“If I’m about to croak when old
my hope is that a joke’s then told.”