Humor of the Day: Snow Fall

Though I started this post last week, I've decided to "publish" it as opposed to having it sit in my blog archives.

It's been a rather humorless few days lately and though I've tried to look around and find something that made me laugh or smile, I've come up short. Maybe I need to call my mom again :-)

But, earlier today, I finally did "stumble" across something that brought a smile to my face: I was reading the Cornell Sun online (the daily newspaper at Cornell) and I read about the large amount of snow that Cornell received the other night. That in and of itself is hardly humorous, but what made me laugh where the two students who were interviewed about the snowfall. They both lamented on the fact that they saw very few students "wipe-out" or fall in the snow.

And, that disappointed them. It would have disappointed me, too.

It made me laugh to know that I am not the only person who, in a warped way, enjoys seeing people fall. No, no...it's not that I am hoping to see anyone get hurt; it's just that because falling is one of the most spontaneous things that can happen, it is funny (often hysterical) on a "physical" level. But, what I find even funnier than the actual fall, is the reaction of the faller and/or those who witnessed the fall. It's often priceless.

As a veteran of many falls (broken bones and all), I still laugh when I think back to some of my finer moments. There's the time I stumbled down the steps in our house, landed in a big heap at the bottom, called for Ed and ended up sitting there alone laughing. Evidently, the rest of the family, who was so engrossed in playing "Zelda" in the bonus room never even heard my plea for help. Lauren later said "she thought she heard a loud "thump" but wasn't really sure. Yes Lauren, that thump was me.

Or, there was my infamous fall in Washington, DC as we darted past the Lincoln Memorial to catch our site-seeing trolley. Fortunately, it was a night tour and no one other than my kids (and Mr. Lincoln) witnessed the tumble. All I remember is hearing Philip say to Lauren "I think Mom fell, but just keep running." After getting up and brushing myself off, I walked on to the trolley as though my land-dive had never occurred. And, I proceeded to laugh about my fall the rest of the tour. I'm sure the other tour patrons wondered what could possibly be so hysterical about the Viet Nam memorial.

But, my Grand Champion of falls occurred when I, too, was in college. And, I think that's why I found the quotes in the Cornell Sun so amusing.

As a grad student at RPI, I was rushing to class one day in the middle of winter. No sooner was I smack, dead center in front of the main entrance to the Student Union - the busiest place on campus - when I slipped on some ice and wiped-out. I landed on my back, laid there dazed for a moment until I heard a male voice say "RPI was founded in 1824 by Stephen Van Rensselaer..."

As I looked to my right, I saw the student tour guide, walking slowly backwards (as all college tour guides do), and the mass of people on his tour were starting to move closer to my spot of impact. At that moment, not even a broken vertebrate in my back could have prevented me from leaping up off the ground. Yet, before continuing on my way, I first did the obligatory "pavement scan," which most fallers do after rising from a wipe-out. This, of course, is to give the perception that there must be something wrong with the ground and that's what caused the fall.

And while I don't remember ever seeing an article in the RPI newspaper about students wiping-out in the snow, I can only hope that my plunge does not remain as vivid of a memory for anyone who witnessed it that day as it does for me.

Yet, if it does, it pleases me to know that I did not disappoint: there's nothing better than witnessing a good Snow Fall....lol