Tag Archives: laughter

The Hippie: What’s Your Idea of a Good Time?

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There is this guy who lives in my house.  He has been around for a long time.  Point of fact, I married the guy 17 years ago this week.

He has some special skills:  he can fix most anything, never panics and makes me laugh on a regular basis.

He is fond of sending me notes like this – Destroy This Note After Reading, and this No Joke Left Behind.  And he is never one to shun a gratuitous laugh.

Every once is a while, when he has exhausted his home audience, he takes his “act” on the road…or rather, down the street to our local theatre, where he is sure to find  a fresh group of listeners (victims?) for his humor.

To celebrate my anniversary, I wanted to share the laughter with Sweet Spot readers in the form of a recent performance of his character,  The Hippie.

Gratuitous? probably…Funny? definitely.  In fact,  I can promise you some laughs. The wig alone, should get you started.

Enjoy

The Hippie

How we met:  True Love By Way of a Kitty Dance and a Bucking Horse

Other stuff: Til Death Do Us Part, Which May Be Sooner Than You Think

 

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

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I love to laugh.  I don’t believe this could possibly be a secret to anyone.  Lets face it, the internet is filled with funny, ridiculous stuff always ready to give a good laugh (or cry).  But, every once in a while, I come across those items that make me laugh not once, not twice,  but over and over again. I  keep track of these little gems for times when a laugh is desperately needed…like, on a daily basis. I refer to them as the gifts that keep on giving.

The other day, my son was having a bad day.  Why?  Well, because he is a teen and some days are just like that.  So I searched out one of my recent favorite gems.

“Hey, Teen, come here and watch this with me.”

“Why, I’ve already seen that one.”

“I know, come anyway.”

A few minutes and several views later, with laughing tears streaming down our faces, life did not seem so bad.

Good even.

That, is a gift.

Here is my gift to you.

Love, Sweet Spot

Today’s Best Moment: Thursday, 4/26

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What?  Hold on, hold on –  folding a mountain of laundry was NOT  Today’s Best Moment because that would be well, sad and completely crazy.

No, the best moment was when I walked into the still-being-renovated-for-10-years laundry room, saw this toppling heap of laundry and literally laughed out loud.  You know the kind of laughter when your nearby sleeping cat, upon hearing your outburst,  looks up at you like you are a complete and utter moron?  Yep, one of those.

Sometimes, those moments are what get me through the day.  And, I think my cat  lives for them, too.

Woman vs. Machine

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As promised in my last post, New Years Non-Resolutions, here is my full confession…

It was a normal afternoon.  My sons and I were in the kitchen.  I was making toast. When all of a sudden, for no reason at all (ok, I may have burned the toast), the smoke alarm- where it had been strategically placed on a cabinet directly above the toaster waiting year after year to be hung from the ceiling – began to go off.

Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep.

I frantically waved the smoke out of the air and removed the offending item from the toaster (fine, I did burn the toast, happy?) so as to relieve the smoke alarm from duty.

But still – Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep.

I climbed up on the counter and brought the alarm down to show it that all was well. Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep.

I pushed its button in assurance.  Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep.

I begged, pleaded, demanded it stop.  Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep.

I threatened. I threatened it with a short trip and a quick end; as in –“Stop or I will throw you against the wall”.  You can’t say it wasn’t duly notified. Surely it could hear the crazed frustration in my warning.

And still – Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep, Bleeeeep.

So in the interest of follow through, you know good parenting and all that, I chucked it as hard as I could at the nearest kitchen wall. It crashed against that wall – pieces of plastic flying, battery hanging out like entrails, cover dislodging as it landed with a thud on the floor.

Finally…it was quiet.  We all three stood frozen in the silence; me, reveling in the peace; the boys, awestruck at my conviction (or… fearing for the potential loss of a few more cards from my deck). 10 seconds…20 seconds…30 seconds…

Then it happened.  Out of the silence in a ‘man down but not out’ kind of way, labored and painful, slurring like the moo of a drunken cow (if cows could, you know, belly up) came the smoke alarm’s final words –

Bluuurrrp, Bluuurrrp, Bluuurrrp, Bluuurrrp – As it continued, despite all aggressions, to attempt to do its job.

We stood. We stared.  Our jaws dropped open.  And then, we laughed hysterically until our bellies hurt.

In the end, it was decided the smoke alarm had earned retirement with full benefits (but no severance pay), I should never make toast without the aid of Mother’s Little Helper (the prescription kind) and Dad/Husband should be called immediately the next time a machine in our house malfunctioned (and even with this assurance, my machines have never since treated me the same…)

What is the point to this twisted machine abuse story?

Simply this- It is moments like this that I live for. The kind that get funnier with each retelling.  The kind that teeter on the edge of crazy.  The kind my kids will remember. The kind where I get to laugh with them.

The kind that teaches them no matter how bad, frustrating or crazy things are, if you can laugh, life is good.

Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

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Sometimes I surprise myself – learning to snowboard when I freeze at 60 degrees, embracing co-habitation with the black snakes that occupy my yard, attempting parenthood (thank goodness for that therapy fund).  Well, my most recent questionable endeavor came in the form of a job.

A few months ago a call came with the request to do a show at a local professional theatre. And when I say ‘do’ a show, I do not mean as an actor on the stage – where I have spent many a moment throughout the years –  but as a dresser in the thick of the behind-the-scenes action.

I reasoned, how hard could it be?  I mean, I have dressed myself successfully for many years (although those severely torn Levi’s – self-patched with leopard print and worn frequently in the 90’s, may not qualify); And, I dressed my boys (hopefully they were not able to read the tags on the accidently purchased girls wear).  So, without any concern for the poor, unwitting victims actors, my desire for a new experience convinced me to say “Yes!”

However, when the time arrived, I discovered that dressing a real live, full grown actor through what was to be 20+ quick changes per show, in the dark, backstage, during near silence onstage, turned out to be more daunting than anticipated. I will admit – I made mistakes.  And, I felt bad. More than once, I decided I had kissed my end of the show ’tip’ goodbye along with possibly all or most of my paycheck. And I will admit I spent a few nights beating myself up over it.

Ok, maybe just one.

Because then, I remembered something. I remembered how dearly I love to laugh.

You see, as long as

  • No limbs are lost (broken bones I’ve got covered!),
  • Everyone is still breathing,
  • No eyes are poked out…shot out…gouged out,
  • And no natural disaster has ensued

I can handle the small stuff, like, I don’t know,

  • Sending an actor out onstage with shoes on the wrong feet,
  • Attempting several times to poke same actor in the eye with glasses,
  • Dropping a few or say, several props on hard floor during complete onstage silence,
  • Habitually refusing to remember one particular assigned job without constant reminders,
  • Or, forgetting my start time on opening day and almost taking down a few pedestrians crossing a small town Main Street in my haste to get to the theatre.

The best part is, once I remember I can handle the small stuff, I find I can laugh at them as well; which is like a gift and something of which I am very fond. The only thing better being when others laugh with you.

So, in closing, please accept my sincerest apologies:

To my Actor friends – who had to endure my fits of ineptness, thank you for letting me laugh at them and for (hopefully) laughing with me; and,

To the Pedestrians – who, I fear, will never look at the safety of crossing a small town Main Street with the same abandon again.

What a Difference a Day Makes

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Nothing happened today.

While getting ready for school…

H: “Mom, I had a dream last night that you and Dad had gained tons of weight.”

P: “No, honey that is what you call a nightmare.”

We laughed.

While running out the door for school and work…

K: “Uhh -Mom, why are you wearing two different black shoes?”

We laughed.

While making an afterschool snack…

K: “Mom, I discovered a new way to pull out loose teeth…blue Jolly Ranchers.” (K produces out of pocket blue Jolly Rancher encrusted tooth).

We laughed.

While doing math homework…

H: “Mom, what did the Zero say to the Eight? …. ‘Nice Belt’”.

We laughed.

While making dinner…

P:  “Hey, guys, if you smell plastic melting in the kitchen, that’s because, well, it is.”

(peanut gallery comments ensue)

K: “If you smell the dinner burning, that’s because, well it is.”

H: “If you smell the house on fire, that’s because, well it is,”

 We laughed.

While getting ready for bed…

K: “What do you think the Tooth Fairy will give me for my jolly rancher filled tooth?”

H: “Nothing!”

K: “Half the usual gold dollar?”

P: “A quarter to call the dentist.”

We laughed.

Today was a good day – maybe, the best day ever.

But then, there is always tomorrow.

Looking for the Sweet Spot Inspiration Blog

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This story, about my dog Shadow’s “heroic” moment, is clearly the inspiration for my blog venture!  I almost let this Sweet Spot moment pass me by.  In fact, it wasn’t until later that summer night, sitting on my porch, trying to stay cool in the wake of a broken AC unit on a 90+ day that the absolute perfection of the moment struck me and I wrote this article.

Just Another Day in the Life

Today, when I came home from the store, there was a goat in my front yard.  Yes, that is what I said… a two horned, split toed, gray, bleating goat, that for some reason decided my boys were its new BFFs and proceeded to follow them everywhere they went.  This, of course, was completely distressing to my 3 year old border collie who, while possessing the necessary herding instincts, lacked the benefit of any actual experience.  She, therefore, proceeded to take advantage of the opportunity by chasing said living, breathing farm animal round and round the house in an effort, I suppose, to regain some respect for her lineage.  While the goat, who clearly was not used to being subject to such base treatment, finally found safe haven on my back porch, nose to the door, pleading for entry (leading me to only speculate as to the goat’s previous place of abode and the habits therein…).

From there, the instinctual help from her ancestors seemed to abandon my worn out, panting border collie.  Or perhaps, she simply decided that herding in 90 degree plus weather was just not what it was cracked up to be.  Either way, the staring contest commenced between goat and dog, and continued until animal control (which consisted of guy down the street coming to put animal in truck and find it a home) arrived to spring the poor goat from a seemingly irresolvable conflict.

While my border collie marched into the house with her head held high as if she had just herded South Fork’s entire stock single-handedly, I contemplated why this was possibly the best part of my day.  I knew the image of my overweight dog chasing that wide eyed goat around and around my yard would be a source of laughter for me for a long time to come.  And of all the gifts in this life, the one I most cherish is the ability to laugh and find the humor.

When I can laugh with my boys, I am happy.  When I can invoke my husbands laugh, I am blessed.  When I can laugh instead of cry, I am saved.  And, when I can make others laugh, I am truly the luckiest person in the world.