The Power of Playful & Purposeful Distraction

The other night I stopped by Boston Market to pick up a family dinner. A supervisor is hawking, a little too aggressively, the special to customers in line. He keeps repeating, "Buy a family dinner and get a whole chicken for $1." Not only isn't his pitch working, he seems oblivious to how annoying it is. And our troubles are just beginning... Suddenly, a bee about the size of a half-chicken, buzzes into the store and starts dive bombing us customers. Well the shrieks eventually get through to our self-absorbed barker. Actually, "Chicken Man," with a mixture of pride and panic, finally picks up a straw broom and starts swinging wildly. Fortunately, he could hit better than he could pitch. Miraculously, he stuns the buzzing invader and, then, crushes it.

 Not one to miss an opportunity, I take out a dollar bill, wave it about and shout, "I'll buy it. Give that man a chicken!" Our hero breaks up laughing and, mercifully, also stops his barking. As for the bee...its suicide mission performed a greater good: we finally silenced the real invasive creature.

 So here's another unexpected benefit of humor -- the power of distraction. Which reminds me of a wild episode several years back, when seeing Terminator II: Judgment Day. Actually, the lights had just turned dark in the theatre and Terminator I highlights were on. Suddenly, a technical difficulty occurred. The sound went off and the picture kept rolling. Well, as you would expect from a Terminator II crowd, the audience was a model of patience and civility. Yeah, right!! The place started erupting. People are whistling, shouting, stomping their feet and, very quickly, throwing everything you can imagine. It's getting a little scary, especially as there's no sign the projectionist or theatre management have a clue. An impulsive idea hits. I take a deep breath, screw up my courage, stand up and shout: "Terminator III: The Movie Audience!"

 Well, I must have had an impact, as the bedlam slows and laughter breaks out. I had momentarily distracted the mayhem...just long enough, luckily, for the technical glitch to be repaired. I consider this one of my most dramatic group and clinical interventions: getting a Schwartzenagger horde to return to its pre-pandemonium, latent state of aggressive hypermania without resorting to medication.

 Today's moral: When the unexpected occurs, keep your finger on the absurdity trigger. You just never know when you'll have to distract a maddening creature or quickly disarm a mad crowd. Once again, seek the "higher power" of humor: May the Farce Be with You!

 And, of course, remember...Practice Safe Stress!