There is nothing quite like getting caught off guard and finding
yourself in uncontrollable laughter…. You know -- the kind that makes you wish you did not
have a mouthful of coffee that could easily end up flying across the table or bursting
out of your nose. That is just what
happened to me a few days ago.
I was out to lunch with dear friends – all of whom I find
to be uproariously funny so I should have been prepared, but ... was not. And as I try to write about this moment, I
dearly hope that it is not one of those situations where “you had to be there”
to appreciate it. It would be so wonderful if you could share the fun.
Anyway – we were enjoying a hearty meal at The Pine
Junction on Bailey Hill Road outside of Findley Lake or Sherman, NY depending
on how you look at it (you need to go there), when a large group of “mature”
women began to file in and seat themselves at several nearby tables. It was a case of older ladies travelling in packs. One of them, a most curious and perhaps a bit overly friendly individual, came over
to our table to check on what we were all having for lunch. Anyway -- I found
myself "people watching" and trying to imagine if they came on a bus or in several
oversized vans and how they knew each other. They, by the way, have absolutely
nothing to do with the story I am trying to tell you other than they were a momentary distraction.
Meanwhile the conversation at my table had continued
without interruption and I had missed a great deal. Suddenly my focus was pulled back onto my group and I heard bits and pieces of a story about a 90-year-old Grandfather, with Band-Aids
or masking tape or something holding his glasses together, walking into a farm
house kitchen complaining about his broken glasses and mentioning as a side
story that the breakage had occurred when his horse was shot out from
underneath him ... the bullet hitting the poor horse smack dab in the middle of
the forehead. Say What? Now my attention was back for sure. It seems that the 90-year-old Grandfather,
however, was less concerned about his horse or about how he, himself, might have been shot than he was about his broken glasses. In fact he was "madder than a wet hen". Oh, how I wish you could
have seen the facial expressions of the person who was narrating this
story. Now -- for some reason --I found
this whole thing to be hysterically funny as I pictured the whole thing in my head and began to laugh uncontrollably. The harder I tried to stop, the funnier it got. I am certain that the horse did not find the situation amusing. I speculate that the horse may have been even more upset than the nonagenarian rider. (Yes, that is what a person in their 90's is called. I looked it up).
Then to compound what I found to be hilarious and this is perhaps the key part to the story – the raconteur went on to casually mention that the horse was not dead at all really; it was, apparently, merely stunned by the bullet (perhaps a glancing blow of the miraculous variety) and struggled back up onto its feet to carry on. Seriously … picture that! And ... all the while the horse is regaining his feet, the Grandfather is looking for his glasses which were broken on their way down. It's funny. Right? (Again – the facial expression was amazingly funny. Everyone at my table was caught up in the story by now and... I was not the only one laughing. Laughter is so contagious. I am surprised that the food curious lady didn't come over to see what was so funny.) All this said... I am reminded, once again, that "things" are most definitely not always what they seem to be ... the horse got up again. Bet he had a story to tell his animal buddies back at the barn.
I guess there is a lesson in everything. Plus -- I do not know when I have laughed so hard. I still am laughing about it. Laughter is a very good thing. Learning can be fun. By the way – they never found out who shot the horse in the first place. Apparently, it was a errant bullet that came out of the forest, shot by some hunter with a bad aim or something. When one lives is this neck of the woods, we have learned to be careful about such things. Poor horse. Lucky Grandfather.
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