Last week, I reviewed the Pease’s book, The Definitive Guide to Body Language,
which I still haven’t finished but am loving every page. It was the section on laughter that brought
up my memory topic. Body Language spends several pages discussing the social reasons
behind laughter in the play of dominance and submission, how it produces
endorphins and generally improves health, and how it affects romantic
relations.
The last really got me thinking. When I was a teenager, in discussions with my
peers at school, church, extracurricular activities, or just hanging out, if we
were talking about girls, we’d ask what was important for them to have. Looks almost always came first (come on; from
teenagers, what else were you expecting?) but almost always equal to that was
that she had to have a sense of humor.
What’s interesting is how a sense of humor is often
so high on the women’s list of desirable traits. What I hadn’t considered is that each sex
interprets “sense of humor” differently.
Without going into too much detail why this is (read the book),
generally speaking, women tend to like men who can make them laugh, while men
are looking for someone who will find them funny.
Beyond noting the differences between the sexes,
what struck me was how humor is a binding force socially and how laughter
builds relations. Which took me to my
own successes in the dating realm (they have been few.)
Best date I ever had was back when I lived in
Utah. There’s a summer event called the
Orem Storytelling Festival. It was three
days and evenings where storytellers from across the country would come and
tell all their tales. There were
different themes and groups; I know there were romantic tales and spook
stories, and times for reading to the kids.
But the one that I took my date to was “Big Laughin’ Nite,” which was
two hours of non-stop hilarity.
The ticket situation was frustrating. I ordered the tickets a week ahead and waited
every day for them to come. Days after
the event, they still never showed. So I
had to buy the tickets again an hour before.
I wanted to argue with somebody about it but life’s short and we were
already going to have a bad seat on the grass anyways.
Oh, yes, this was an outdoor event. Big hill that sloped downward into a natural
amphitheater, stage below and huge speakers everywhere. I hadn’t brought blankets and I’m pretty sure
the sprinklers had been on that morning at least, because it was a little damp
sitting down. After an hour of talking
and sunset bringing in a chill, the show started. The first two storytellers were okay. Not that funny. I only remember the second on because the
lady required audience participation.
But from number three on down through the rest of
the dozen or so storytellers, they just kept getting funnier and funnier. Halfway through, I looked over at my date and
said, “I hope the next guy sucks. My ribs
can’t take this anymore.” Nobody
sucked. My sides and stomach were sore
for two days.
And, of course, we had some slight problems finding
my truck again (that crowd was incredible).
But you know what? I got a second
date out of that—after a year of constant disappointment, this was
incredible. (I have no illusions about
my skill with women.) In fact, just from
one good evening of humor, there followed six months of dating that one woman
and a couple years of good friendship with her.
I’m not sure why I’m going on about this, except to
say that I really think that Peases are on the right track with their
book. If I can put in my own experiences
into something, it lends much credence to the work than I would otherwise give
it.
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