Friend: “Everyone else in her family is skinny; I don’t know where she got her genes.”
Laura: “Lane Bryant?”
High society frowns on it, but I’m discovering the joy of randomness: filling dead airspace with a joke, or something completely out of sync. Why not? It’s a free country! What’s the worst that could happen? I’ve been snubbed by snobs too many times to count; that’s certainly not the most heinous consequence. Of course, using decorum is sometimes called for—oh, say at a funeral, for instance . (Well, even that depends!)
Some folks rely heavily on being random. The moment calls for them to be audible. Uh, oh! It’s do, or die! But they need more than a split second to compute something pithy. So out it comes: “Hey there, Boo Boo, let’s make off with the pic-a-nic basket.” [Dead silence.] Everyone’s dumbfounded: “Goodness; is there nothing in that cranium?”
But I’ve come to realize Random is Good: it says, “I’ll do whatever it takes to remain here; these people matter to me, and I don’t want them to go away.” This guy has given it a shot. If that’s all he’s got up his sleeve, so be it: he’s swallowing his pride and placing himself in harm’s way, just to stay. More power to him!
Frankly, he’s a cut above the hypocrite who resorts to regurgitation of jargon coined by another. Not everyone has a Ph.D., but each of us is made in God’s image. We all are of more worth than many sparrows. We can be random! Which is its own kind of awesome.
So, the next time you are at a loss for words, don’t clam up, just roll with it. Go ahead and blurt it out, as is the habit of Effie, my crazy mother-in-law:
Emily: “It’s okay, Grandma, just put your trust in the Lord.”
Effie: “Yes, we need to put our trust in Dolores.”