Wednesday, November 12, 2008
This is one of the many sunset pictures I took earlier this week off Gwynn's Island. Although this wasn't one I took from a lying down position, I did have to squat. Trying to take a picture while balancing in sand is really quite a sight. Hilarious even.
I turn again to some of Chesapeake Bay Mother's writings, this time on the topic of laughter.
The Best Medicine
by Chesapeake Bay Mother
Our family has Teutonic/Celtic roots extending back to Pangaea, where our first ancestor belly-flopped ashore in pursuit of something different. Perhaps he had fried chicken in mind, though he was being premature in his longings. We all tend to eat heartily and laugh loudly. The first time I heard Chesapeake Bay Woman laugh, I knew we had brought the right baby home from the hospital.*
Whenever our family gathered for wakes, the funeral director was so conflicted by the laughter and loud conversations, he always threatened to ring a gong to bring down the hysteria to more grief-appropriate levels. That embarrassment didn't deter us a bit. It was like trying to stifle a sneeze.
Our family had its eminent members when it came to earsplitting socializing: Great Aunt Maggie, her son Cousin Harry, and Aunt Viola, whose greetings would register on the Richter scale.
Once, in the grocery store, Aunt Viola, with her arm around me, was delighting in the fine array of seafood specialties and announced, loud enough to be heard many aisles over, "Oh look! Cock Shrimptail!" **
Chesapeake Bay Woman Interrupts Her Mother to Add Commentary:
* No matter where I've ever worked, people often come running down the halls or even come from other floors to find out what on Earth can be so funny that they can hear my laughter from so far away. The fact is, it doesn't take a whole lot to make me laugh. I laugh every single solitary day, 9 times out of 10 at myself. However, my laugh is loud, very loud. Boisterous. I say obnoxious but others say it's just hearty. I think they're being polite.
** OK, this was my Great Aunt Viola, whom we called Vollie, my favorite grandmother's sister. She was HILARIOUS. All she did was laugh and make other people laugh. Many times she wasn't even trying to be funny. One time she went to see the movie Porky's when it was in the theater. She bought her ticket and her popcorn and settled in for what she thought was going to be a movie about Porky Pig.
There is more to Chesapeake Bay Mother's essay, and I'll continue it another time. Right now, I'm hungry and for some reason I have a craving for seafood. Wonder if I have any shrimp...maybe I could make some cock shrimptail.