Some of the funniest moments in life are found in the small pieces of your day, the unique little moments that you can't predict.
I love the small surprises that make each day unique. It's how my brain works. I notice the oddities, the funny moments that make me laugh. When I share my observations with others, they laugh too. It seems my sense of humor is rooted in my affection for the unexpected, coupled with my ability to laugh at myself for my own reactions to the unexpected.
This weekend was a great weekend for laughs, even though none of the places I went were associated with laughter. No funny movies. No comedy shows. Nope. I went to a live music performance, the farmers market, Shakespeare in the park, the local coffee shop. I didn't go looking for humor. But humor found me in small pieces.
Here's an example:
The best farmers market in town is located in a tiny artistic neighborhood, known as the Cherry Street District. On Saturday mornings, the street is blocked off for about two blocks so vendors can set up their booths. This Saturday, as I walked into the blocked-off zone, a spray-painted sign caught my eye. The blue writing read "Porch Music," followed by an arrow pointing toward a side street. I wondered what it meant, but I didn't stop. I did my shopping.
When I was done, I headed back the way I came, and sure enough, I heard music. So I headed down the street to find three college-aged men in t-shirts and jeans, their hair unbrushed and frizzy-wild, playing some cool music. They were good. If they were older than 21, I'd be surprised. They didn't look completely "out there," but they looked out there enough that I suspect if a doobie got passed around, they wouldn't say no. You know what I mean?
There they were on their porch, playing music. Porch Music. Yup. I got there just as the guys finished their song. Another woman was standing a few feet away, watching. Two girls were sitting on the grass across the street. I joined in the tiny, barely audible smattering of applause. The lack of a crowd didn't matter to these guys. They were full of the self-delight and confidence that men seem to have at age 21. It probably helped that the crowd, small as it was, was made up entirely of women.
They addressed us with amusement: "Thanks for all your applause. What a great audience! We're here every week." I thought, "Of course you're here every week. You live here. It's your porch."
I had to laugh because it was so unexpected. How often do you walk by a sign that says "Porch Music?" This was a first for me. The boys were clearly having a great time with a situation that would have damaged a more delicate ego than theirs. An ego like mine, for example. I don't know if I would have had the guts to play on my porch and then address my miniscule fan base as though I were Bon Jovi. But I admire people who can do it. Boys aged 21 probably excel at that better than anyone else I know.
I laughed all the way around the block back to my car. Two days later, I'm still chuckling at the whole moment. It was wonderful. Small. But very wonderful. A reminder that life is great, when you look at it the right way.
Ciao for now!
Copyright (c) 2010 by Michele Chiappetta. All rights reserved.