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The Role of Humor in Times of Crisis

The Role of Humor in Times of Crisis

You don’t need Calico to tell you we’re living in uncertain, unnerving and frightening crisis times. Heck, you might even reasonably think that the middle of a pandemic is no time for her brand of constant silliness and absurdity.

But as Calico explains, in a rare, totally serious post, is humor and jocularity have a part to play in times of crisis — and for people like her, that part is a crucial, sanity-saving role.

It’s an attitude Calico grew up with, quite literally handed down by her father, who saw more than his share of horror and pain working as a MASH unit surgeon during the Korean War.

Most of what Calico writes absolutely is to be laughed at. Today’s post is more intended to remind people it’s OK to laugh in the face of fear and anxiety — maybe even necessary to do so. Read all about it in her latest post, “The Role of Humor in Times of Crisis.”

coronavirus crisis humor

– Calico Rudasill, Sssh.com Adult Entertainment for Women and Couples

I will apologize in advance here, because for an article that’s ostensibly about the crucial role that humor, comedy and laughter play in helping us humans through dire times, it’s not going to be a particularly humorous post.

That said, even in times of (literally) deadly seriousness, I believe people need to laugh. Maybe some people don’t have that need, but I surely do.

This does not mean people who are being directly affected by something like the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic should be expected to laugh at memes making light of the situation, or at toilet paper-hoarding jokes – but it’s something to bear in mind if you’re among those who find humor inappropriate, full-stop, at times like this.

Crisis Education from an Unlikely Source

The importance of humor at times of crisis is a lesson imparted to me by my father many years ago, in a sort of odd context. We were watching an episode of the classic TV comedy M*A*S*H – which was, of course, set in one of the unfunniest possible contexts: A Mobile Army Surgical Hospital in Korea during the Korean War.

My father had been a surgeon in an actual MASH unit during the Korean War, something which wasn’t lost on me as we listened to the canned laughter predictably pour out of the TV’s speakers at every one-liner and sight gag. While I found myself chuckling here and there, I couldn’t escape feeling slightly ghoulish as I did so, especially sitting there with a real former MASH unit surgeon.

Finally, I just had to ask my father: Was his experience anything at all like what we were seeing on the show? His answer surprised me more than a little bit.

Dad explained that in some ways, his time in a MASH unit was nothing like that of the doctors on the show (there was significantly more visible blood around in real life, for example) — but then he added that the constant joking around between the doctors and others at the MASH unit did ring true to him.

“Really?” I asked, amazed to hear him say it. “You guys joked around a lot during a war?”

“You bet we did,” he responded. “It was the only way to keep our sanity.”

Humor and Somberness Aren’t Mutually Exclusive

As I got older, my father shared things with me like a journal he kept during his time in the MASH unit. There was nothing remotely funny about it, filled as it was with observations like: “Watched a 19-year old die over the last five days, solely because we’re out of antibiotics. Initial wounds not life-threatening until infection set in. If we were back in Boston, he’d be home resting comfortably by now, surrounded by family. Instead, he’s in a body bag.”

As dad explained to me, nobody in his MASH unit needed to be reminded of how serious the situation was. Those reminders came like clockwork, after all, in the form of seriously wounded and desperately ill soldiers. So, he made the conscious decision not to spend much time talking about serious or depressing subjects with his peers, outside of those which were professionally necessary when they were doing their jobs – which was significant percentage of the time, to be sure.

His place for darker, sadder thoughts, some of which come creeping back to him even now, almost 70 years later, was his journal. He doesn’t know for sure, but strongly suspects some of his peers at the MASH unit took a similar approach.

So, What’s Your Freaking Point Here, Calico?

The reason for this post, other than all this being very much present in mind over the last few weeks, is that other than this one, I intend to keep my posts light and funny in the weeks ahead. Along the way, no doubt I’ll write some lines that offend some people, or that they find insensitive or otherwise objectionable. C’est la vie; that’s just how it goes as an incorrigible goofball who also happens to be a blogger – or a “satirist” if you want to get all stuffy and highfalutin.

As we all navigate together this period of great uncertainty, fear and anxiety, let’s make room for humor, for levity and for space to escape reality. Along the way, if someone jokes in a way you don’t appreciate, call them out for it if you think that’s necessary, I suppose, but also be mindful of the fact that humor is (and always will be) a key coping mechanism for a lot of people.

I’m not saying you should give everyone in your life the green light to make whatever truly awful, inappropriate, hurtful joke that comes to mind as we all hunker down during times of social distancing and self-quarantine. I’m just saying cut them some slack – and cut yourself a healthy portion of the same.

Stay safe and be well, all. And be sure to laugh, at least a little, now and again. To quote a certain cartoon rabbit: Don’t take life too seriously; you’ll never get out of it alive.

My Substitutes for Sex During Self-Quarantine

My Substitutes for Sex During Self-Quarantine

With much of the world in “social distancing” and “Self-Quarantine”  mode due to the COVID-19 pandemic, many people are wondering whether it’s safe to have sex — even what has hitherto been considered “safe sex” — during the ongoing crisis.

Since by a quirk of fate and travel she and her husband are sheltering in place in different states, Calico hasn’t been confronted with the dilemma of whether to have sex with him or not. Instead, it’s a question of what to do as a substitute for sex in his absence — and more generally, as a substitute for his presence around the house, which isn’t an entirely unpleasant presence, despite how she often makes it sound.

What is Calico doing to make things less lonely? How does one go about simulating not just the feel of their loved one, but the sights, sounds and even the smells of that person? Are there any advantages, from a sexual pleasure perspective, so being self-quarantined? Get one (admittedly eccentric) woman’s answers in Calico’s new post, “My Substitutes for Sex While I’m Self-Quarantined.”

covid sex mask

by Calico Rudasill, Sssh.com Adult Indie Films and Entertainment for Women

If you search the news for sex-related stories right now, you’ll notice quite a few dedicated to the question of what “safe sex” means during the ongoing coronavirus pandemic.

Sadly, or perhaps, fortunately, depending on one’s perspective, my husband and I aren’t being truly confronted with this question right now, because we’re not only socially distanced, but geographically distanced, as well. He’s in one state helping his elderly and vulnerable parents, I’m in another, self-quarantined because I’m showing some symptoms of being ill, but I’m nowhere near sick enough to be out seeking medical attention.

Thus, my current primary substitute for sex while self-quarantined is masturbation… lots and lots and LOTS of masturbation. Why so much? Not only do I greatly enjoy the self-stimulation but pleasuring myself also appears to be the best way to keep my mind off things – and to keep me from obsessively refreshing Worldometer’s coronavirus statistical updates.

A Mixture of Fantasy and Realism

One of the great beauties of masturbation is it affords the opportunity to indulge in fantasy, including the chance to imagine myself having sex with all different sorts of men with whom I’ll never have sex IRL.

Not only do I get to fantasize about these men, but I get to fantasize about them in a context of my choosing – by which I mostly mean I’m free to imagine having sex with Sean Connery when he looked like this, as opposed to how he looks now, which is somewhere between my very elderly neighbor and the withered naval orange currently decaying in the dish on my kitchen counter, which probably should have been thrown out sometime in early January.

I also like to keep my fantasies grounded in real life to some extent, however, which is why I will often imagine myself having sex with Idris Elba for the same duration as my average sexual encounter back when I was in college. This yields a ‘self-quickie’ experience I like to call – with a hat tip to Flight of the Conchords – “two minutes in heaven.”

Replacing Not Just the Feel of His Presence, but the Sights, Sounds and Smells

Not all my substitutes for sex while in self-quarantine involve masturbation or sexual fantasy, of course. Some are more designed to replace other aspects of my relationship with my husband, or to make it feel like he’s here in the house, rather than hundreds of miles away in California.

This is, in part, another way of saying that I’m farting and belching excessively, draping my shirts on the furniture instead of putting them in the hamper and making enormous amounts of pasta at once, then eating the nothing but leftover linguini for four days straight.

I’ve also been plugging in his guitar and turning up the amplifier very loud at least twice a day, despite the fact I can’t play the thing. I do this not so much for myself, but for the cats – just to keep them on their toes. I suppose I could run the vacuum occasionally to achieve the same purpose, but I’m refraining from doing so as part of my aforementioned campaign to make it seem like my husband is here with me.

Where Are Those Hyper-Realistic Sex Robots When We Need Them?

In recent years, the media has been full of articles about hyper-realistic sex robots, mostly of the female variety, which are allegedly available, or soon to be available. While much of the coverage has been cautionary, I don’t worry about one being so realistic it would come to replace my husband – particularly in the kitchen, where hot, spattering grease might damage its lovely thermoplastic elastomer skin when making me a hamburger.

Personally, I would use such sex robots responsibly, by which I mean I would not routinely send it out in the world to restock my liquor cabinet, ask it to repair the air conditioner without reading the manual first, or teach it how to curse in Spanish.

Oh well, I suppose I’ll just have to be patient and rely on my frequent masturbation approach to riding out (heheh, see what I did there?) this shelter-in-place stuff without the aid of sex robot technology. In the meantime, at least I haven’t exhausted my Netflix queue – or the batteries in my Rabbit.