Friday, October 2, 2015
Humor in hell
On my morning walk I was headed through the University. Four University facilities guys were gathered around some sort of portable generator thing. In the tradition of facilities guys they were shooting the breeze. At the moment I was walking past them one of these guys took his chance and said to the group "Hey, you wanna hear something funnier than hell?"
I am not shy about making bold, self-regarding statements around here. I enjoy batting around "genius" and "prophet of god" like they're mere cat toys. I might start off an occasional blog post mid wave on a surge of confidence. But I cannot imagine being so terribly bold, so profoundly sure of the power of what I have to say, as this guy. I could say a lot, but I could never dare to say "Hey, you wanna hear something funnier than hell?"
I had places to be, and so I kept walking. I did not linger for the funnier than hell story. I'm sorry if you were sold on his optimistic preview and were dying to hear it. I did hear him say "My daughter and her..." as I was moving away, and then, when I was far, far beyond them I heard a high, loud laugh, a lone laugh carrying across the campus. I was certain somehow that it was the laugh of the person who told the story.
Don't set the bar so high man. And funnier that hell? There's nothing funny about hell. It's the land of eternal torments.
Huh, maybe he set the bar too low.