Hysterical

Last night I went over to my cousin Wendy's house for a salon. Not a place where you go to get your hair done, but this other type of salon. I try to say the word confidently, but I have no idea what a salon is supposed to be- I just knew that everyone there would probably be more sophisticated than I am. But I gathered up two good pals and we were salon-bound. This was a gathering to celebrate the publishing of a book by a friend of Wendy's. I have met this woman a time or two and she is funny in that great kind of funny way. She doesn't seem to be cracking jokes on purpose, in fact she doesn't seem to be cracking jokes at all. The stuff that comes out of her mouth is just always chuckle-worthy. Apparently she is an English Prof and used her sabbatical to research current American humor. And then she took what she had learned and wrote a memoir. So after a bit of general salon-ing we gathered in the living room, Sara took a seat on a stool up front and she commenced to read a chapter from her book. At first I chuckled here and there, and then the woman next to me started laughing so hard that I couldn't help but laugh at/with her. It got to the point where I even wiped a tear or two. And then it ended and we clapped and she dove into a different little tale. Almost right away this one hit my funny bone and set me off down the trail of good hard laughter. About ten minutes into it I was firmly out of control. Laughing, weeping, sniffling, snorting, sweating. There was one point where I felt a bit of panic creeping in. I was so thoroughly out of control with laughter that I was sure that one of my friends was going to have to give me a swift slap to the face to bring me back to my senses. Or maybe even take me out back and shoot me. Really. I didn't see how I was going to regain control. But then the tale was over. We clapped. I wiped my eyes and let out an occasional last guffaw or chortle, but eventually was able to settle back down to talk quietly with my friends while chuckling continued to break out around the room. I found that my cheek muscles hurt. It was fabulous. Sara Ford is the name. The book is on a small scale release, but can be found at Amazon.com. It's titled "Apparently I Know Who Satan Is." I can't guarantee that it will have the same effect on you, but why not risk it?