These remarks, when directed at the wrong person, can prove to be costly. Take, for example, this conversation between two editors. As always, names are withheld to protect the guilty.
Editor one: "You know I’m very sensitive about two things: my age and my weight." Editor two, trying to be nice: "There’s nothing wrong with your weight." Editor one: "You mean there’s something wrong with my age? Are you saying I’m old?" That unintended unkindness cost our well-meaning editor a lunch blow-out–which, of course, we innocent by-standers enjoyed.
Just the other day there was pizza all around because of a careless comment. There was a discussion about the dangers of advanced age pregnancy, and someone volunteered that her mother was 48 when she was born. To which the careless–not to mention hard of hearing–editor remarked, "What? You were 48 pounds when you were born?"
I am in the process of filing a demand for pizza with the proper authorities–whoever that may be–against one editor for what my fellow (hungry) editors agree is an ethnic slur. The question was: what do you call a Chinese prostitute? The answer–and I will use the benign form: tongue-in-cheek. His lame excuse is that he was simply repeating a text joke; but, like libel, I insist that perpetuation of a bad joke is also a crime punishable by pizza.
Next to food, humor is the best defense against stress. When you’re daily beseiged by scandal in government, sickening political posturings, examples of gross waste of national resources, shame-faced lying by public officials, senseless killings and the like, not to mention bad grammar and inane press releases, a good laugh takes away the urge to press the delete key and vanish everything away. On bad days, even a corny joke can make the load lighter.