Sneaky People

Because It’s Funny: When Life Imitates A Movie + Determining YOUR Sense Of Humor

/ Ally Bean / 238 Comments

A STORY IN WHICH I’M REMINDED OF A MOVIE

You, my gentle readers and kind lurkers, may remember that last summer I mentioned our neighbor bought an electric robotic lawnmower that when programmed cuts the grass making perfectly straight, amazingly pretty, latticework lines across his yard.

I nicknamed the machine Yertle because as it wanders around it looks like a large slow-moving turtle.

[Also because I like to name things.]

At the time I mentioned Yertle a few commenters asked: How do you stop someone from stealing it?

We now know that the answer to this question is: YOU DON’T. 

Yes, someone driving by midday saw Yertle out in the front yard, stopped, hopped out of his black pick-up truck, and kidnapped stole Yertle. Due to the angles on neighbors’ doorbell cameras, the theft was caught on video but the license number on the truck and the face of the thief weren’t.

However, there was one thing the thief didn’t consider when he stole a machine that is programmed using 22 satellites in ye olde heavens above. You see, once Yertle was unceremoniously lifted over the property line, with a hat tip to ET, Yertle phoned home.

Literally.

Immediately.

Thereby alerting our neighbor that Yertle had been swiped and that he was resting in the back of a pick-up truck that was speeding into the countryside.

So our neighbor called the Sheriff’s Department to tell them what had been stolen and to look for a black pick-up truck. Plus our neighbor, using his cell phone that tracks Yertle, was able to tell the Sheriff’s Department Yertle’s current exact location as the thief drove down the road.

Then our neighbor waited.

Welp, apparently the thief figured out that Yertle had a GPS tracking device, so before the Sheriff caught up with the truck Yertle was found*, abandoned unharmed by the side of the road.

Yertle came home no worse for the wear, a victor over the forces of evil, and as you can imagine, the talk of the ‘hood.

A QUIZ TO DETERMINE YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR

I stumbled over this questionnaire, Test Your Humor Style. It’s based on Rod A. Martin, Ph.D.’s academic idea that humor can be divided into four different types.

After answering 32 easy questions, I learned that my humor styles, succinctly defined, in descending order are:

  • Self-enhancing [97th percentile], meaning I look on the funny absurd side of things;
  • Affiliative [73rd percentile], meaning I enjoy sharing amusing stories to make people laugh;
  • Self-defeating [64th percentile], meaning that I laugh along with others when being made fun of; and lastly
  • Aggressive [17th percentile], meaning I don’t use humor to tease, put down, or manipulate people.

There’s more to the definitions of each humor style so instead of writing in depth, I’ll share the following taken directly from my results page.

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

What’s new in your neighborhood? Spill the tea!

Ever reminded of a movie by something that happened in real life?

What’s your favorite funny movie?

Do you think the four types of humor make sense?

If you took the quiz, what is your primary style of humor?

~ ~ • ~ ~

* I wrote this post yesterday morning then learned the rest of the story last night. Come to find out after rescuing Yertle the Sheriffs did catch up with the black pick-up truck. The two men in it claimed that the only reason they’d taken Yertle was that it was by the trash cans on trash day and they thought it was a motorized toy car being thrown out. Uh huh.

Grocery Store Chronicles: 3 Vignettes From My Shopping Adventures

/ Ally Bean / 246 Comments

Pretty picture of puzzle pieces put together that has nothing to do with the subject of this post, but pretty picture gotta pretty, right?

~ • ~

TO BEGIN WITH

Over the years I’ve written about my grocery store shopping experiences and put the stories here under the tag: Grocery Store Chronicles.

[The story about discussing kinds of pears and the story about stealing potato chips have been the most popular. Also there’s Betsy‘s favorite story about me buying beer.]

While the following isn’t one complete story like those I linked to above, these are 3 vignettes about what I watched unfold, and entertained me, while shopping in ye olde Kroger this past holiday season.

LOVE CONQUERS CONFUSION

The layout of the first part of our store goes like this: produce, deli, cheese, bakery, then wine and beer.

It was coming up on New Year’s Eve, busy everywhere in the store.

I’d just seen a couple in their 40s picking out some produce for something specific, while overhearing them talk about making something special to take somewhere.

Moving on I went to the cheese kiosk and found myself standing with about 10 other people there as well as the couple. I looked around and realized that the wife was on the verge of tears because, as she explained for all to hear, she couldn’t remember which kind of cheese she was supposed to buy.

She turned to her husband and said: I dunno, I can’t remember. I’m just a little ball of confusion.

To which he said: You know what I like about that?

Her, sad: No… 

Him, leaning in to hug her: You’re MY little ball of confusion.

She smiled weakly while all of us standing around the cheese kiosk in unison went: Aww…

And with that he kissed her and said: I’ll go get the beer while you figure out the cheese. Meet you back here. 

KARMA GOT HER NUMBER 

It was crowded in the store with people and displays of food/wine everywhere.

Zen-Den and I had a small cart full of items and were heading to the U-Scan lanes to buy our stuff. A woman walking behind us to the U-Scan was impatient with our pace. She did a wild dash around us to get to the U-Scan lanes first, giving us the evil eye as she went by.

We shrugged.

As fate would have it, despite our pace, we ended up in the U-Scan spot beside her, which when she saw us caused her to snarl our way.

We shrugged.

Well, as Z-D played cashier scanning our items, I stood there and watched her, surreptitiously. And here’s what happened: her first credit card was rejected. Her second credit card was rejected.

And when we left having successfully scanned, packed, and paid for our groceries, she was holding a third credit card that had been rejected, while talking on her cell phone with someone.

Half of me felt sorry for her because I’d guess everyone has had a credit card rejected at some point and it is frustrating, BUT considering how impatient she was and her negative attitude toward us… I smiled.

Ha!

WHEN THE WRONG THING IS RIGHT

I was waiting in the cashier line, standing behind a Dad with a cart heaped with groceries and a 3 y.o. sitting in the basket cart seat. The Dad was at the front of the cart while the boy was directly in front of me.

The little guy was laser-focused on everything his Dad was putting on the conveyor belt. Nothing escaped his notice.

About halfway through unloading the cart the boy told his Dad: That’s the wrong milk.

Dad: What?

Boy: It’s blue. 

Dad: WHAT?

Boy: It should be red.

Dad, catching on that his son was talking about the color of the label on the milk: No the blue one is right this time. 

Boy, raising his eyebrow like the 50 y.o. man he’ll be: Mom. buys. red.

Dad, still putting items on the conveyor belt: The blue one is buttermilk. It’s the right one this time because Mom is making cookies and this is what she uses. 

Boy, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, explaining to me under his breath: Mom BUYS cookies… and she’s gonna be mad about no red milk. 

~ • ~

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

So, been shopping in a brick and mortar store lately? And how did that go for you?

Overheard anything that made you smile?

Or watched something happen that brought out the snark in you?

Or confirmed that kids can be wise beyond their years?

~ ~ • ~ ~

The One About Phonies And Alter Egos And Solving Problems, Maybe

/ Ally Bean / 241 Comments

I AM A REALIST. I am who I am regardless of where I am.

As such, being a naturally inquisitive person, I find people who are phonies, that is people who pretend to be someone they’re not, endlessly interesting.

Thought-provoking, in fact.

[E.g., Elizabeth Holmes or George Santos or Rachel Dolezal.]

They are my opposites and tweak my curiosity about the line between reality and fantasy, between harmless daydreaming and unhealthy delusion.

Allow me to explain.

Thinking back over my years of blogging I’m reminded of one blogger in particular who wrote her blog as if she wasn’t who she was. This wasn’t flash fiction nor was it catfishing, mind you, but saying upfront this is a fantasy of who I wish I was, a different personality, so I’ll write all my posts as this alternate version of me.

She lived in a small midwestern town but pretended she was living in a large southern city.  She thought of herself as a resident of that large city and she’d describe her days doing the same things she did now [working, shopping, dining] AS IF she lived there.

The thing was that for me after reading her posts I couldn’t decide if this phony persona was just kind of a fun thing, a light-hearted goof; OR if there was something seriously wrong in her life that prompted her to become someone else, albeit briefly.

In truth I was never sure how to comment on what she wrote, so I politely wandered away from her blog and I cannot even tell you if she’s still around.

I doubt it, though.

• • •

SO WHY AM I talking about this topic today?

Not because I idealize or hold any animosity toward this former blogger, but because of something I read a few months ago and have pondered on since. This something got me thinking and wondering– and reminded me of her.

Believe it or not.

What I read was advice written by someone who claimed to be a mental health therapist. This seemingly legit advice was about how to solve what may appear to you to be an intractable problem.

The advice suggested that you create an alter ego of yourself [not a super hero] that you use to contemplate your problem; an alter ego was defined simply as a different version of you. The advice said that by mentally running the details of your problem through your mind as your alter ego, you’d gain clarity.

Now I have problems, who doesn’t? And I do try to solve them, but never have I ever thought about creating an alter ego of myself, for any reason. I may be too pragmatic, or unimaginative, for such.

Or snarky. Perhaps I’m too snarky.

But I digress.

So tell me, kids, does the idea of creating an alter ego of yourself, something I’d describe as a phony version of yourself, seem like a way to gain real insight into your problems? Have you ever done this? And if so, how’d it go for you?

I’m curious to know what you think about this approach to solving problems. Do you feel it is sound or is it wackadoodle?

Please discuss below.

In Which I Admit To Joyfully Thwarting Some Youthful Shenanigans + Reader Comments

/ Ally Bean / 200 Comments

 Joyfully Thwarting Youthful Shenanigans

Remember Muttley, Dick Dastardly’s sidekick?

It’s good to be an adult.

[Bwha-ha-ha!]

A few weeks ago we had an unusually warm day. The temps were in the 70s and it was dry and sunny outside. Around 4:00 p.m. I went into the living room to read.

Before I plopped down on the loveseat I decided to open the window just a little bit, about 2″, to take advantage of the pleasant fresh air. As I began to read I heard rustling sounds outside the window. That’s not unusual when you live on a wooded lot, so I didn’t think much about it.

It wasn’t until I heard voices that I became interested in what was happening outside the window.

“So you gonna do it?”

[Do what, thought I?]

I got up from the loveseat and walked over to look out the window.  Immediately below me were two neighbor boys, about 10 years old, who were scrunched down hiding in our bushes while having a serious conversation about what one was going to do.

“Maybe.”

The gist of their conversation, that I could clearly overhear through the open window, was that one boy had challenged the other to run up onto our stoop, ring the doorbell, then run back into the bushes to hide.

A classic prank, no?

They figured, correctly, that from their vantage point crouched down in our bushes they’d be able to see whoever opened the door and watch that person look confused.

IT WAS GOING TO BE HILARIOUS.

They just knew it.

So I waited patiently at the window. Eventually one kid found the gumption he needed to be a prankster. He ran up onto the stoop, rang the bell, then darted into the bushes.

THERE WAS SNICKERING.

Lots of it.

I did nothing except stand quietly at the window looking down on the youth below, waiting to see what they were going to do when no one came to the door.

[Truth bomb, I may have been smiling a bit too much.]

As you can imagine when no one came to the door these two boys were defeated. Their classical prank had failed. Their shoulders sagged, they stood up in the bushes, and muttered. Then the one who’d rang the bell stepped out of the bushes and started to walk across our lawn to his house.

“Dude not that way they’ll see ‘ya.”

To which the first one looked exasperated as he shouted back to his friend still in the bushes, “THEY’RE NOT HOME, haven’t you been paying attention?”

“Oh yah…”

And with that the boys walked slowly across our yard in plain sight, looking dejected, in a way that only failed pranksters can look.

And me, what did I do? I started laughing and am still smiling when I think about how I thwarted this prank. There are moments when being an adult is SO FUN!

Then, of course, who could forget Huckleberry Hound?

~ ~ • ~ ~

AND FINALLY FOUR READER COMMENTS…

About your take on the word Matriarch:

“I am the matriarch in my family, now that my mom is gone…and I don’t have a problem with that word. Or crone or even sea hag. So long as it is said to me with love, respect and good humour. No one laughs harder at me than myself 😂.”

~ Deb

“Call me any name you want to as long as I think ‘the shoe fits’…. ‘Elderly’ is a tough one, though. Some day, many years down the road, I may earn that particular stripe but only because of the eighty or ninety wonderful years leading up to it.”

~ Dave

“Matriarch is a word that means she is the head of her tribe, in my case, that would be my mother. My turn will come. Interpretation is a funny thing. Words are used in various ways and transform over the years, their original meaning becoming muddled.”

~ Dale

“Wow. I grew up in a matriarchal family so I see it as a compliment! Isn’t it funny how we all have our own perceptions based on our experience? Sea hag would raise my hackles!”

~ Kay