SOMETHING SILLY

New Zealand Listener, Volume 1, Issue 15, 6 October 1939, Page 10

SOMETHING SILLY

HESE days of ours are tensely lived. We are keyed, in spite of ourselves, to a pitch of nervous resistance that gets little or no relaxing. It, is. a matter of selfdefence and of self-preservation. We know subconsciously, even while we refuse to admit it, that round any corner and at any hourin little or in big ways-strength may be required of us. And so, instinctively, we brace our nerves. We are ready. Some of us are wise enough to be grateful for anything, big or little, that forces our laughter. But not all of us, perhaps, realise that if we are fortunate enough to be able to relax, let go, drop-for ever such a brief moment-out of that attitude, step aside from the procession of determined and responsible persons urged on by seeming uncontrollable forces-we shall find ourselves, by just that much, renewed, I have met odd women lately who obviously think: it a bounden duty to be sad, sad and stern. It is a sad and stern world, more stern and sad than bears thinking on. But all sources of delight-of refreshment and of strength-are not dried up. There is Springand new life, and beauty and colour and sound abounding-all sources of strength for us, for the spirit that all but fails. And one other is laughter.

Who cares where or how it is made-by what incident of fun or stupidity? A Silly Thing-a Thing-to-Laugh-At-is a treasure these days. It’s a breathing-space in the stifling huddle of your responsibilities-a lull in the careering, cyclonic gales of un-reason that are sweeping our world. Something Silly. It’s worth encountering. And shall I tell you a true encounter of mine — silly enough, and funny enough, even now? It was on a day of gloom last week. There was a wedding at a church across the way, and I watched from my window. The couple appeared at the threshold, paused a rather shy moment, and then, deluged and half-blinded by confetti, ran down the steps and into the waiting car. The guests waved after them, laughed happily, and presently dispersed. The big doors were locked. The wedding was over. Now, there is a short cut through the church grounds to the shops. I picked up my basket, and off I went. My eye fell on two football shapes of confetti at the bottom of the steps — and even as I looked they began to move slowly away! Two large hedgehogs, with quills raised, and literally packed with the bright, tiny discs of paper! They moved off from the church steps with slow, uncomfortable dignity, and disappeared round the corner. The wedding, they seemed to say, was over. It was all so unlikely, so not-to-be-believed, and so comical, that I was still chuckling to myself when I came to the shops. It was Something Sillydelightfully silly. It lightened the weight of a whole day!

Ann Slade