As I plunged into the recesses of my memory, I pondered this
question I was posed: “What is the
funniest moment of your life?” I
instantly recalled the day about 20 years ago when I was driving from
Williamsburg, KY to Tazewell, TN to play for my cousin’s wedding. I had been to the rehearsal on
Thursday night, drove to Williamsburg to spend a couple of days with friends
before heading back to play for the wedding on Saturday afternoon. I left in plenty of time, and
just outside Middlesboro, KY, on a hot, sunny, early June day, suddenly, my
little Chevy Cavalier that could, just couldn’t anymore. The car just died. Right there. In the middle of nowhere. I pulled off, and knowing nothing about cars other than
where the key and gas go, there I was in Eastern Kentucky, fully dressed in my
wedding attire, a damsel in distress.
This was in a time before the advent of cellular phone technology, and
even if I had a phone, I doubt there would have been a signal. I finally flagged someone down. It was, as I recall, a nice older
gentleman who stopped. It
seems that my spark plugs had come loose, and it was an easy fix…all he had to
do was tighten them up and I would be good to go. I recall saying to him, what is possibly the funniest
part of the story “I just knew you would stop because the front of your truck
had a “Jesus” plate on the front.” I thanked him and we were both on our ways…
Then, there was the little incident I also had involving my
car a few weeks prior to the previous experience when my friend Scott and I had
traveled outside London, KY one Sunday afternoon to play putt-putt golf. We were driving along,
having a good time, when, the truck in front of me came to a sudden stop. BOOM! I rear-ended the truck. There was no damage, just shaken nerves. The driver of the rickety truck, a man,
who was as rickety as his truck, jumped out and started yelling. Scott jumped out of the car and asked
him if everything was ok. I guess
this would be a good time to mention that Scott is a giant of a man. As he towered over the man asking if
there was a problem, I recall the man recoiled back into his truck and we were,
once again, on our merry ways.
Scott is a lean 6’4” gentle giant, but his imposing height had saved the
day. To this day, we still
laugh about this little “incident”.
In summer, 1994, my Young Adult Sunday School class from
church went to a Christian music festival held at Kings Island, outside
Cincinnati, Ohio. My dear friend,
Morgan, rode with me. She and I
had a lot of fun on the drive. On
our first night at the music festival we were riding some rides, and, well, I
didn’t remove my glasses prior to riding the ride. That was the first mistake. The rest is just kind of unfortunate comedy of errors. We rode a ride, and during
the course of the ride, my glasses fell off, and were not to be found until the
next day. The incredibly
comedic situation here is that I have night blindness…and everything is just a blur
without my glasses (even back then, when my eyesight was better than it is
now). So, as we are traveling
back to the Days Inn where we were staying with our group, suddenly it
dawns upon me, “Oh, crap, Morgan, I can’t really see…” We may have been about 7
miles from the park to the motel, but that was one drive I don’t think I’ll
ever forget. All’s well that
ends well, as they say. The
next day, returning to the park, we returned to the ride, where my glasses had
been found and retrieved after the park had closed. My vision was once again restored. Appropriate, I suppose, for a Christian music
festival-'twas blind, but now I see.
However, perhaps the most humorous experience occurred just
a few weeks prior to the marriage of my best friends from college, Lee and
Jane. At the time, they were
living in the same apartment complex as me in Birmingham, just a building or
two away. It was
Memorial Day weekend, 2000, and I went to get my hair cut and have a “little”
color done. As was often the
case, I never knew exactly what color(s) my hair would be when I left the
Shoppe, because my coiffeur kinda did his own thing. On this particular Saturday, I was singing “The Lord’s
Prayer” at the 5PM wedding of a co-worker, so I wanted to be sure to get my
coif on before the wedding.
As fate would have it, my color job on this particular day was a full
color…of red. Well, not
exactly red, more of an auburn…and more specifically, the color of a
basketball. Yes, my hair had
an orangish-red glow about it.
I sang for the wedding (and yes, I got some looks and gave explanations
at the reception), and afterwards stopped by Lee and Jane’s apartment. Jane answered the door with horrified
look and said “What the HELL did he do to your hair and you WILL have that
fixed before my wedding!!!” Well,
the hair stayed that color though out the next few weeks…and, yes, as Lee and
Jane’s wedding pictures forever document, throughout their wedding. Upon seeing their wedding
pictures about eight years after this tragedy, I realized just how horrendous
it truly was. I told them if
they could make it to 25 years, that computer technology should have evolved so
that we can have all of their photos redone with the touch of a button.
Here’s my confession:
These are just a few memorable moments in my life. There has been a lot of humor in
my life. I’ve had lots of
laughable experiences. It’s
really hard to narrow them all down one single, solitary situation as the
“funniest”. However, in many ways,
I think, and, in more ways than one, the bad dye job just weeks before the
wedding “takes the cake”.
My true confession, then, is that I’m really sorry that I
didn’t get my hair fixed before my best friend’s wedding. Luckily, I think they have both
forgiven me…at least they still speak to me.
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