What could possibly go wrong? Life is one hilarious disaster after another. The moment you flash on having finally gotten it together, it falls apart.
Life in shreds? Out of work? Evicted? Hiding from the repo guy? Other half dump you? Medication not working? Bank threatening to foreclose? Don’t take it personally. It’s just a little irony from Karmic Life, Inc.
Disaster is life’s cute and funny way of pointing out how little control you have over your fate. Don’t cry. No one likes a cry-baby. Smile! That’s it! Go on. No suffering allowed. No one wants to hear your sad story … unless you turn it into a funny story! Then everyone wants to listen.
Stories of hideous mistakes and horrendous outcomes are the stuff of terrific after-dinner conversation. A few drinks can transform them into hilarity. Misery fuels humor. It’s a fact. Misery, mistakes, and disasters are high comedy. Funny movies are not about people having fun. They’re about people in trouble, with everything going wrong, lives in ruins.
There’s a fine line between comedy and a tragedy. Mostly, it’s all about the ending. Tragedies end with piles of corpses. Comedies (usually) don’t. Otherwise, it’s mostly timing.
Funny stories weren’t funny when they happened. Later, with perspective, they’re funny. After I was told I had cancer in both breasts (they were having a two-for-one-special at Dana-Farber), I had them removed and replaced by silicon implants, but stopped short of adding fake nipples. Previous surgeries having left me with no naval, I now present myself as a space alien. You don’t believe me? It’s true.
And about those fake tits: I own tee shirts that say “Yes, they are fake. My real ones tried to kill me.” It’s a big hit at parties, the high point of my cancer experience.
Ironically — there’s that word again — a mere two years later, my heart needed a complete overhaul. The ultimate irony because I’d been telling everyone my heart was the only organ that worked properly.
When life goes to Hell in the proverbial hand basket, a lot of people who were sort of friends eye you with suspicion. Is bad luck contagious? There’s also a subtle whiff of satisfaction. They wouldn’t be so rude as to say it aloud, but they are overjoyed it happened to you, not them.
If you are a writer, out of the wreckage may emerge a book — or at least a Freshly Pressed badge from WordPress. See? It wasn’t for nothing.
Personal traumas are collateral damage in our Darwinian battle for survival. No one gets through life unscathed. Mindful of future tragedy lurking down the road, prepare some clever repartee. You can give it a test drive at the next get-together with your more successful friends.
As a bonus, you’ll truly appreciate the humor (irony?) when your friends’ lives go to pieces. It will be your turn to have a good laugh. In private. Later.