In a fit of fatigue induced delirium, I had some fun the other day on Twitter while hoping to catch a flight in the Atlanta airport. In case you missed it, here’s how it went down:
9:46 AM: Stuck in the Atlanta airport. 5 chances to get home today. 0 for 2 so far. #buddypasstravel
12:59 PM: Buddy passes got us all the way to Madrid and back to Atlanta, but we’re 0 for 4 on the last leg back to Austin. #springbreaktravel
3:10 PM: We’ve been at the ATL airport since 7am. I feel a string of fatigue induced humorous tweets coming on. #hidethekids
3:26 PM: Hard to fly standby/ In a crowded terminal/ Where I’ve come to die #rhyminghaiku
3:34 PM: Trying to be just annoying enough to get put on a plane without getting arrested is hard to pull off. I hope Heather makes bail.
3:40 PM: This experience has inspired a parable about heaven and hell. Once upon a time there were many people sitting in a terminal. . .
3:44 PM: Some awaited their departure with peace and confidence. They had reservations. Others were anxious and nervous. They were on standby.
3:46 PM: Have you made your reservations or are you hoping to slip onto the plane at the last minute? Let us stand and sing.
3:50 PM: To those texting Heather and asking her to take my phone away from me. Are you not paying attention? She’s in jail.
3:54 PM: A man just sat next to Heather and started talking to her. He thought she was his wife. I saw his wife. He was trying to trade up! #nix
4:00 PM: My internal editor just got on a plane . . . without me.
4:18 PM: Revival has come to ATL airport. Everyone praying I’ll get on the next plane.
4:39 PM: Lifted my arms and used body odor to clear gate area of competing standby passengers. Like Moses, I will keep arms up until I prevail.
4:42 PM: I have a great wife. Heather just volunteered to help hold up my arms. #notrades
4:52 PM: Feeling torn. Plane is boarding. Not sure if I want to get on or keep tweeting comedy gold for next three hours.
5:06 PM: Sorry folks. We got on the plane. Til next time.
5:40 PM: And we’re back with free in flight wifi. Did someone say encore?
I loved the varied responses I got from these tweets. There were LOL’s, multiple “thumbs up,” digital groans, and even an attempted intervention via phone by a worried friend. Several expressed concern for Heather since she was so close to the meltdown. But I want you to know that before I posted these tweets, I showed almost every one of them to Heather. She gave most of them a “thumbs down.” Every time she said, “I don’t think so,” I hit “send.”
Heather and I have very different senses of humor. By different, I mean that I have one and she doesn’t. Not funny and not true. We just find humor in different places. She would say that her brand of humor is more sophisticated than mine. I agree. Mine never made it past the eighth grade. Hers has a Master’s Degree.
I’ve learned to use her more sophisticated sense of humor to my advantage. When we first got married I would run jokes and stories by her that I was thinking about including in a sermon. Most of the time she would say that she didn’t get the joke or didn’t think it would be funny. At first I listened, but after six months of having her veto just about every joke, I decided to go ahead with some of the stuff I thought was funny. Most of the time, it would work. Afterward, Heather would begrudgingly admit that she had misjudged how it would land with an audience.
This eventually morphed into an ingenious system of testing jokes that we both find humorous. If she doesn’t think a joke is funny, then I feel confident it will work and proceed to tell it. If she laughs at it, then it gives me cause for pause and I reconsider using it, unless I’m speaking to a gathering of the Jane Austen fan club.
This system works well for us. I get to tell my jokes and when people laugh, Heather gets to roll her eyes. If I tell a joke that doesn’t work, she gets to say, “I told you so.” There have been a few times when she has taken a stand and kept me from telling a joke that crosses the line and I’m glad she has. Sometimes the Eighth grader in me needs to be sent to detention.
In case you were wondering, Heather previewed this post and liked it.
I’m posting it anyway.