Post-Punk Progression
March 21st, 2008
Yoga was … yogic, I suppose. Let me preface this by saying that until yesterday, my experience with yoga was limited to three power yoga classes at my former gym and an astonishing number of half-assed attempts at Brian Kest’s Power Yoga DVDs that mostly involved me grunting, sweating and heaving through the poses, as well as a terrifyingly bad form. So this was my first “real” yoga experience, if you will.
Have I ever told you, by the way, that I have an issue with nervous laughter? HAHAHAHA, I do, and trust me, it’s fantastic — particularly at funerals, where I am the life of the party. I don’t know where it comes from, but when I’m supremely uncomfortable, I get the giggles. As anyone with this problem will tell you, it’s not that I find the situation at hand funny, really, I don’t, it’s that I’m so full of discomfort that the only release my body deems appropriate is to snork heaving laughs right through the nose. I have laughed at every funeral I’ve ever attended and it’s about as horrible as you would expect — and when something genuinely funny happens at a funeral, I’m screwed, for while everyone else is chuckling softly, I’m barking with loud, inappropriate “HAR HAR HAR”s for I am so RELIEVED to be able to let it out.
At Adam’s grandfather’s funeral — a man I genuinely loved and was crushed to lose — about six years ago, there was a moment of silence, as funerals are wont to incorporate, and at the exact, and I mean PRECISE, moment the silence began, someone bumped our niece’s Buzz Lightyear toy, which promptly announced, “TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!” to the silent room of mourners. Everyone chuckled politely, and I? I. could. not. be. stopped. And later, when Adam, who was a pallbearer, got trapped behind the out-of-control coffin, his disembodied head floating above the floral arrangement as he yelled, “HOLD UP! HOLD UP!” I was also inconsolable in the most inappropriate fashion possible.
See? Life of the funeral right here.
So you can imagine how gracefully I handled yoga, where there were all sorts of CONTRAPTIONS and STRAPS and BOXES and BLANKETS to behold, and where it was even less inappropriate to bust out laughing at the peak of my discomfort. And — the part where I really lost it — the whole session ended with my instructor SINGING (chanting?) some Buddhist thing that was supposed to be uplifting, and in actual fact, probably was, but for some reason I found it unintentionally hilarious. Suddenly, in the midst of my silence and namaste-laden happy thoughts, there was this CHANTING and whaa? IS SHE SINGING? OMG, SHE IS. This may have been because at the exact moment of her chant, I was strapped into this wild pose that involved no fewer than six blankets, a wooden block and some sort of purple belt-like thing that would be at home in any S&M closet.
Seriously, why didn’t anyone tell me there would be PROPS? I thought yoga was one of those things you could do anywhere, sans equipment? Why was I all strapped in? It’s worth noting as well that at one point my instructor came running over, her soothing voice sounding strained as I strapped myself into what was apparently a dangerous position, “Oh Jonna, oh Jonna wow, UNSTRAP THAT. That looks tight and you could really kill yourself there. RELEASE THE STRAP. No, not there. Oh no. THERE. RELEASE THAT.” (It was around my knees and waist, if you were wondering, and I imagine I looked somewhat like a balled-up and very precarious Weeble.)
That being said, giggles aside, I felt very warm and stretchy afterwards and will very likely go back, with less snickering this time. Although in the interest of full disclosure, I have to tell you that I internally rolled my eyes when my instructor busted out in her unitard and unshaved armpits because OF COURSE. I AM IN A YOGA CLASS IN VERMONT.
(And look, I know all the feminist arguments against hair removal and let me say that while I find it admirable, I couldn’t do it, and it freaks me out a little, okay?)
(Also, I nearly killed myself at the thought of putting on a unitard myself, because it would actually look like I swallowed an entire tire, in fact.)
(And also! Since more than one person commented on it, I also should tell you when I write that these stereotypes happen, it’s not that I actually believe that EVERYONE is like this! No! Not everyone in Vermont!. For example, I’m aware that most people shave. Or even if they don’t, it really doesn’t matter, but part of me does sort of do an eyeroll, I’m sorry. It’s just that when something happens to fit the stereotype, I’m sorry, it’s … it’s funny as hell, because it’s just so what everyone expects to see, but rarely does. Imagine, if you will, being in Southie and seeing a large portion of men with bad accents in Fila jumpsuits. It’s like seeing someone from central casting!)
Anyway, as if yoga wasn’t enough excitement, when evening rolled around, I found myself attending open mike night at a local coffee house at the invitation of my neighbor, whose sister is in a Japanese J-punk band that was headlining the evening as part of their North American tour. And let me tell you, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a 19-year-old Japanese student flailing around on the ground and playing air guitar with a rubber chicken. I should note that they were actually quite good, rubber chicken oddity aside.
This was preceded by a well-known local playwright jamming on a harmonica and a man who, again, seemed like he stepped right out of central casting. His act, if you were wondering, involved strumming a guitar laden with Tibetan flags and desperately trying to find the proper chord as he wailed, “THE EEEEAAAARTH. WE ONLY GET ONNNNNE. SAAAAAVE IT.”
His denouement, however, was a song called “February Snow” and he introduced it by saying, “This is a song about February. And snow. It’s called ‘February Snow.’”
Of course it is.
I hope you all have a great weekend. Happy weekend to you!
*Snow Patrol
**Please note that I am ALL for saving the earth, really. Finding humor in this portion of our show doesn’t mean I want the earth to ROT. I recycle! I conserve! I COMPOST for crying out loud! I LOVE THE EARTH AND REALIZE THAT WE ONLY HAVE ONE, OKAY?
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
25 Comments Add your own
1. Teej | March 21st, 2008 at 9:06 am
“To infinity and beyond” is more than appropriate at a funeral.
But I’m really commenting to say THANK YOU, BILL RICHARDSON.
That’s all. I knew you’d share in my excitement. It’s like CHRISTMAS around here.
2. Katie | March 21st, 2008 at 9:16 am
I LOVE your VT insights. I’m pretty sure we’ve moving to Grafton (Brattleboro area), and I’m grateful to know what I’m getting myself into.
3. Richard | March 21st, 2008 at 9:36 am
I wish nervous laughter was the least of my nervous habits!
4. Shelly | March 21st, 2008 at 10:01 am
“The Earth. We only get one. Save it.” Am dead from laughing. I can clearly never move to Vermont.
5. Leah | March 21st, 2008 at 10:24 am
“Infinity and beyond!” That’s killing me. HA!
6. Emily | March 21st, 2008 at 10:43 am
This is why I don’t do yoga. There are props? And unshaven armpits? And I thought my biggest downfall would be that I cannot touch my toes. (Am really the most inflexible person in the world… in many different ways.)
7. Meagan Francis | March 21st, 2008 at 10:56 am
just followed you over from Queen of Spain, where I wholeheartedly agreed with your post on marketing to mom bloggers!
As for nervous laughter during yoga–I’ve been practicing yoga for years and you’d think I’d be all past that by now, but last year I was in a class with this man who would rip the loudest farts, like this:
Yoga Instructor: “now, relax bac k into Child’s pose, letting you forehead rest on the mat and your body settle into the floor…”
Large Hairy Man’s Butt: “pbbbbbbbbbbbbtttttttttttttttt”
I would have to stay in child’s pose while everybody else moved on, because I was shaking with laughter.
8. Lara | March 21st, 2008 at 11:39 am
I had an uncontrollable laugh fit at my grandfather’s funeral too. I was sitting there trying not to giggle as I realized “hmmm, the funeral home guy looks and sounds like Ned Flanders…” when my brother turned to me and whispered “hi diddely ho, mourners!” and I lost my mind. Hmph.
Also, last weekend I was at a party with 189 people I don’t know (and one I did, who had wandered off). A little uncomfortable. The hosts had just finished a reno and had put heating coils under the granite countertop of their bar area. Everyone is ohhh’ing and awww’ing and one says “Ohhhhh…? so did you put them in to make the counter less cold???” I did a “snkkkkkkkkkkkkorrrt” and had to walk away and go sit in the bathroom and giggle like a lunatic, but I’m pretty sure the brainiac who said it noticed and also I’m pretty sure I won’t be invited back soon.
9. Anh | March 21st, 2008 at 12:01 pm
Rotting is beautiful. If more things on earth rot we would not have the gigantic garbage problem.
yoga. I will try t sometime…when it don’t make me look gay (not that I have problem with gay). I heard its a great place to meet woman thought. I will stick to less dangerous form of exercise, like like bicycling or white water kayaking.
10. claire | March 21st, 2008 at 12:08 pm
There appears to be a selection of disclaimers in this one… Have you been threatened by earth-loving,furry-armpitted,unitard-wearing yogis up there in VT?
I say, fuck ‘em.
11. jonniker | March 21st, 2008 at 12:11 pm
Claire: I know! I know! I’m disclaiming my pants off! I don’t know why, really, except that I do know that I have a few non-armpit-shaving readers out there and look, I GET IT. I just don’t dig it. I shave my pits, man. I do.
As for the environmental thing, HAAAA, Adam works for an environmental company and I had visions of one of his coworkers thinking that I’m MOCKING ENVIRONMENTALISM OMG, and I’m totally not. But I am mocking the man who could barely warble out a pat tune on a terrible guitar.
Or maybe it’s that I AM A PANS-AY.
12. whoorl | March 21st, 2008 at 12:15 pm
You see, THIS is why I don’t comment nearly enough on your blog. I have SO MANY THINGS that I want to say, but become totally flustered trying to make my thoughts coherent and subsequently give up 80% of the time.
The end.
13. jonniker | March 21st, 2008 at 12:23 pm
Also, Lara, I have to tell you, I don’t know why anyone would heat the granite countertops and I … I could totally see myself asking that question. Because I am apparently that braniac. HEH.
14. Angella | March 21st, 2008 at 12:51 pm
Um. Ditto to Whoorl.
Except? I am still giggling at the “to infinity and beyond”
It took me way to long to type this comment due to the uncontrollable giggles.
15. Sadie | March 21st, 2008 at 1:48 pm
no, really…why would someone heat their granite countertops? I…I…don’t know why. should this be obvious?
16. Lara | March 21st, 2008 at 3:37 pm
Jonniker, it’s to make them less cold
I probably didn’t explain it well, it wasn’t the kitchen counter itself (that would be dumb and your butter would melt, etc. etc), but a higher-up piece, with stools in front? Like a breakfast bar?
To be honest it struck me as an unnecessary “more money than sense” thing, but the way the girl asked it was ohh so funny. Now my friend and I ask each other stuff like “Oh you’re cooking it? To make it less raw?”
It was the “February Snow” song that make me think of the enjoyment I get out of the dumb things people say. I would have snorted very loudly at that as well – wait? It’s not called March Rain, etc.
God, I’m a riot.
17. Nothing But Bonfires | March 21st, 2008 at 3:39 pm
I can’t imagine that it would ever happen, but for the sake of all our collective friends and relatives, I shall SINCERELY hope that we never have to attend a funeral (or, come to think of it, a yoga class) together.
Your descriptions of what happened at Adam’s grandfather’s funeral had me CRYING with laughter, like actual tears and everything. And I know actual tears are good at a funeral, but not when they’re accompanied by howls (yes, howls!) of laughter. I can only imagine we’d encourage each other, see. It would be awful. At the very least, we’d have to sit on opposite sides of the room.
18. Briana Pavey | March 21st, 2008 at 5:16 pm
HA!! My BFF sent me the link to this post b/c of a pilates story I have to share. We had to “roll like a ball” in class. Literally fold your body up and roll from your butt up your spine and back again. My now husband and I were in the class together with another friend. Every time we rolled up, someone would fart (we thought). I ended up rolling on my side from laughing so hard. After class, we discussed this with our friend. It turned out it was HER noise, and it wasn’t a butt fart, it was a V-fart!!!!! (qweef? Sp?) This was 6 years ago, and we still talk/laugh about it!!
19. Lori | March 22nd, 2008 at 8:14 am
“hi diddely ho, mourners!” – OMFG! Too funny.
And armpit hair…Can’t stand it on women or men. It should all be removed!
20. Kristin | March 22nd, 2008 at 11:21 am
Haha–this was great! I giggle like that all the time. I recently made a joke during a wedding toast (I was in the audience) because I was so uncomfortable, but looking back, I think that was a bad decision…
21. Shana | March 22nd, 2008 at 3:09 pm
Oh, no. I saw a disclaimer coming, and assumed that it would be the “yes, sorry about the VT/hairy pits thing, I know it’s a broad, sweeping generalization,” but it was…a decidedly different disclaimer. You know you have readers with family from VT, yes? Family that believes in shaving, not judging and generalizing?
22. TwoBusy | March 23rd, 2008 at 7:05 am
I hear the rationale behind “February Snow” and all I can think is… that’s right… “Control/Alt/Deleeeeete…”
23. Marin | March 24th, 2008 at 4:48 am
I snorted so hard when I got to the “we only have one earth” part that I almost fell off of my chair. Also: inappropriate laughter. At my friend’s funeral, the principal of our former high school spoke, and this was the beginning: “Hi, I’m Mr. X, from X High School. Hoommmeee of the BUULLLLDOOOGGGSS!” I think he expected people to maybe cheer or something, but it was so wildly out of context that I laughed so hard I had to leave and go to the bathroom. And dry my tears of laughter in private. Most inopportune, really.
24. Shelly | March 24th, 2008 at 9:51 am
“hi diddly ho, mourners!” – I would have been in the floor laughing. And then shot your brother. How inappropriate. But hilarious.
25. Blythe | March 25th, 2008 at 2:37 am
I hope Buzz Lightyear shows up at my funeral.
My nervous guffaws during my first Pap smear were so bad the doctor had to stop and give me a talking-to. I can’t imagine what the person in the next exam room was imagining as she overheard us.
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