Eavesdropping

You should have seen the looks I received when eavesdropping this past week. In case you weren’t aware, it’s socially frowned upon to lurk in the background of personal conversations that you aren’t a part of.  I was forced to alter my eavesdropping strategy. Instead of deliberately trying to get within earshot of public conversations, I readjusted my ears to catch to all the conversations around me that I had previously tuned out. What I found surprised me. Most laughter was not the product of a traditional joke. Instead, it came from old stories rehashed amongst friends.

A line similar to “you won’t believe what so-and-so said yesterday “or” just last week preceded nearly all laughter. Despite all of our differences, we find humor in the same things, for the most part. I was able to laugh at stories involving characters I had never met before because I could imaging the situation in my head or at least knew someone like the person being described.

I overheard one of the funnier examples at dinner the other night. A couple in their 20s was sitting adjacent to me. The man began describing the last time they visited this restaurant together. He recounted, when squeezing a lemon into her drink, she accidently shot him in the eye with lemon juice. He continued to joke about the petty argument that ensued. Only a few feet away, I laughed right along with them. I could imagine the entire situation.

Another funny story caught my ear a couple days ago. Several of my friends were talking in the other room about a recent ski trip. One of them had never skied before. To fill you in, our novice skier is a large, jolly fellow so gravity favored him greatly. My friends gave him a quick tutorial and took him up to a run well beyond his skillset. He began tremendously, maintaining form through his first turn. My friends were proud of themselves for their success in preparing him. But he slowly gained speed. Eventually he was flying down the side of a mountain screaming at the top of his lungs to warn fellow skiers that he was out of control. Nearly halfway down the run, he did the only thing he knew, leaned to the side and went into a high-speed barrel roll that sent his skis flying. Come to find out, my friends neglected to mention the “pizza” technique of slowing down. I was laughing out loud to myself in the other room.

In the crowded living room, I overhead a family talking about the recent Sweet Sixteen games. The sons were making fun of their father for yelling at one of the players on the other team. According to them, their father was livid during his team’s losing performance. Unbeknownst him, he was pronouncing the players name “Whitney” instead of “Whithey.” I thought this was hilarious. He was enraged, screaming with all his heart at a player that didn’t exist. Why is it so much funnier when someone messes up while trying to be serious?

This assignment has taught me the importance of story telling. I was laughing along with strangers at stories entirely foreign to me. These storytellers were able to put a picture in my mind, much like an author attempts to do in his or her writing.

One last observation, the majority of the tales that produced laughter involved the misfortune of others, much like the examples above. Dr. Williams questioned the validity of the superiority theory last week. I agree with him. The superiority theory is alive and well.