These Covid-19  months have been extremely difficult for everyone—some people more than others—and finding something to laugh about has been a real challenge. Sometimes, nothing seems funny anymore.  However, I have found that memories that have been well stored, and filed away, tend to pop up unexpectedly when I think about a subject to write about. For instance, how often in life has an unexpected event provided a laugh? Well, given a choice it’s always better to laugh.

Many years ago, my grandmother had forgotten to put away a tube of shoe polish after polishing her shoes in the bathroom. The next morning, my Uncle Harry began to brush his teeth. To paraphrase Gertrude Stein, “A tube is a tube is a tube!” Admittedly, Uncle Harry’s mistake wasn’t as serious as confusing ear-drops and eyedrops (or drinking them), but one should beware of the inappropriate use of medications.

My Mother (the sister of the uncle with black teeth) was told by one of her friends that the cream used to shrink swollen hemorrhoidal tissue, when applied under the eyes, will also shrink those eye-bags. So, standing at the bathroom mirror, she began to apply the cream under her eyes—just as my Father walked past the bathroom. He took one look at what she was doing and said, “Dear, I think you are applying that at the wrong end.”

My brother (the son of these two people) knew that our parents frowned upon his smoking cigarettes. He was a teenager and naturally had to try a cigarette, so, one day, he went into the bathroom, opened a window, took a few drags and blew the smoke out of the window—right over Mother’s head as she was picking flowers. His smoking days were over.  It helped that he threw up.

It is always an unexpected pleasure to run into a friend from home when traveling to a foreign country.  One day, at Heathrow Airport, my Father recognized a man whom he had met somewhere, so  he gave him a heartfelt greeting. Turns out that it was Walter Cronkite, and he had met him on our living room television set.  

When in New York my husband, Warren and I got on an elevator with Isaac Stern.  Warren shook his hand and expressed his admiration for the famous violinist.  After we got off the elevator, I said to Warren, “My, God!  How could you shake hands with Isaac Stern’?  What if you had broken a finger or something?” He looked at his hand, and replied. “ My fingers look okay to me.”

Shortly after that experience, Warren was invited to lecture at the University in Mexico City. My Spanish is halting.  His Spanish was nil. He knew that an interpreter had been assigned to him, but was convinced that no one would show up. So, in Spanish, he titled his presentation, “There’s a Dead Horse in My Bedroom.” Students were lined up around the block.

Uncle Harry talked better than he listened. One afternoon he decided to sun bathe on the back porch of our house.  He had forgotten that Mother was hosting her group of Mahjong playing ladies, until he heard them entering the front of the house. He, and his jock strap, had no choice but to let the chips fall where they may as he streaked past them.  Afterwards, all he could say was, “I hope they noticed my gleaming white teeth!”

Esther Blumenfeld