Laughter, Humor, and Abstract Absurdities (Kid Stuff)

Genetics have never been one of my strong suits.  For the life of me I could never figure out how I could have blue eyes, or anyone else for that matter, if blue eyes were always recessive to dominant brown eyes.  It would seem that there is a pathway to diminishing returns somewhere in that logic and in various classroom settings the whole concept generated a definite degree of angst.  Oh wait!  In my day, lessons were based on the Simple Mendelian Model (one gene = one trait).   Now scientist have discovered that eye color is a polygenic trait meaning it is influenced by many different genes.  Not that this current model makes any better sense but my dark side does wonder if Mr. Humbart, old school as he was, ever updated his curriculum for that once-upon-a-time biology class. 

Regardless, a real world perspective has proven that genetics are real and inherited traits reveal themselves in mysterious ways.  

Take laughter for instance.  

Often we laugh to ourselves and at ourselves but to really laugh until the tears flow one needs a partner. I’ve been blessed with three such men in my life.  Two with blood ties.  In my youth, my mother’s brother Howard.  In this age of failing….you name it, my sister’s son Matthew.  

There is some debate as to whether humor finds its wellspring in nature or nurture.  Without doubt, my personal life experiences force me to side with nature.  Admittedly, the variables of my all too non-scientific research are strictly limited.  Nonetheless, the study focusing on my familia linage defines the mother (also in the social role of elder daughter, older sister) as the carrier of the condition and wa-la, the sons (also in the social role of younger brother, nephew, then uncle) are the recipient of a sense of humor that can only be defined as unique.  A shared sense attuned to abstract absurdities which manifests themselves in uncontrollable fits of hilarity.

Take this example from Thanksgiving Dinner, 2025.  Let’s title this work of art “The Extendable Fork”.  Your cast of characters (read both role and unusual quality) from right to left and in order of appearance:  Carol, my sister.  Yours truly. Jamie, my wife.  Matt, Carol’s son, my nephew.  With special thanks to the cinema photographer, Adelle, Matt’s wife. 

While such episodes are far from everyday, similar shared meetings of the mind are not uncommon either. 

Of course, not all humor results in guffaws. More often a quiet smile nestles on the mind and then migrates to the face.  In this regard, these three pictures beg representation.  For Uncle Howard: 

For those of you on whom that abstract absurdity is lost, paragraph five of Uncle Howard will provide some context. 

Some abstract absurdities pop to life almost immediately while others play out in the real time world of sight and sound with the mind orchestrating in context, sequencing, and impression along with projection and imagination. 

As it happened, Jamie and I were taking in the sights of Rome within our habit of self-guided walking and our first day found us wandering from our hotel in an easterly direction.  We stopped at the Spanish Steps in front of Trinità dei Monti.  Overcome by the need to document our presence in the essence of that place, we stopped for a selfie before continuing on.

Top:  The Roman Forum as seen from Via Monte Tarpeo

Bottom left:  Bernini's 'Ecstasy of Saint Teresa', 
Church of Santa Maria della Victoria

Bottom right:  Ancient Roman Aqueduct dated 9 B.C.
Still a source of water for the Trevi Fountain today. 

Two days later we crossed by the Spanish steps again, this time headed on a southerly route.  We had started this day at Piazza del Popolo and been immersed within the beauty of the Basilica Parrocchiale di Santa Maria del Popolo.

Shortly on, an obelisk was just barely coming into view.

Column of the Immaculate Conception, Piazza Mignanelli

Then, before we could get a clear view we were stopped in our tracks by a horrendous roar emanating from our back and right. Startled, we turned to see the silhouettes of six fighter jets as they flashed between the valleys of the roof tops.  It was the Italian national aerobatic team Frecce Tricolori (Tricolour Arrows) with their signature red, green, and white smoke trails streaming. I started to raise my camera phone to capture the image but they were long gone.  All that was left were receding echoes, an excited crowd, a bit of chaos, and sometime later, the heavy scent of jet fuel.  

The scene brought to mind the epic World War II movie Patton (1970).  The German Luftwaffe are strafing a Tunisian village creating chaos and carnage early in war in North Africa.  In a defining moment, Patton exclaims “Enough!” and jumps from the balcony of his command headquarters to a truck below, and then to ground.  

Squaring off, Patton taunts “Come on you bastards, take a shot at me right in the nose!”

Two fast approaching Heinkel He 111 medium bombers, twin machine guns blazing, roar towards him as Patton defiantly raises his pearl handled revolver to answer. 

George C. Scott as General George Smith Patton Jr.

But this was no time for random reminiscence.

“Hang on Jamie.  They’ll come back around for another pass and come right at us over that obelisk down the street there.  And I am going to get an award winning shot.”

What are the odds?  But my knower knew. Jamie’s eyes scolded with skepticism but she humored my whim any ways. So we waited a while as others resumed their sightseeing.  

“These people are going to miss the picture of a lifetime”, I said with something greater than a hint of disdain. 

Seconds passed and then a minute. Hope began to fade.  Then,

“Hear that!?!?”

I raised my pearl handled I-phone and muttered right out loud,

“Get ready.  Steady.  Just like Patton.”

Wait for it. 

My Patton Moment

Footnote:  Later that day we learned that the flyover was in celebration of the Olympic flame entering Rome on its way to the XXV Winter Olympic Games being held at various sites in Northeastern Italy.