Funny or tragic?

dilbert-tragic-funny-blog.doc

Good old Dilbert, I thought this fits perfectly with last week’s blog.Funny or tragic?
I am torn between laughing and crying.
How do we get so caught up in a life we don’t like and yet not being able to move away from it. I guess listening to people’s stories gives a clue.

Imagine John being only four years old. As his 5th birthday was close to the start of the semester, he has already been to school for two whole days.
On the third day straight after breakfast he was joyfully playing outside with his brothers, building a hut. Totally engaged, he was having the fun of his life with the people he wanted to be with.
However, now being a schoolboy with a time schedule to keep he was summoned to the car to go to school.
But John, not yet tamed, refused to come. Why would he stop having fun to go to a place that was restrictive and away from his friends?

Well did his mother have news for him, once locked into one of society’s institutions called school, fun and choice weren’t available anymore. And off to school John went.
Enter Dilbert and madness began, lasting many years.

Imagine me as five years old, growing up with 3 older brothers. No bad bone in their bodies, but having a little sister to tease was too good an opportunity to miss. Every move was mercilessly observed and used to make fun off.
Imagine me going to dance classes. Not the best one to listen to instructions, John can attest to that, I cannot seem to stay in line with the others. But I don’t see why that is important. I am having fun moving and twirling and enjoying the music. I occasionally bump into another dancer, but that doesn’t matter.

Then unfortunately we have to show off our art in public. On stage I go and then all of a sudden it does matter if you bump into each other. I dance, I bump, the other person does mind and lets me know in front of all the people.
My brothers had a field day for years mimicking me and showing me how uncoordinated, dreadful and extremely foolish I looked doing it all wrong right there on stage.
My own field day was long gone; exit joy of dancing and being expressed, welcome Dilbert. There was no malice involved, now I can laugh but ………..

John was smart though and re-learnt early in his adult life to do his own thing. He went sailing when he was 25 years old after being joyfully engaged again in building; building his own boat this time. When he returned 9 years later he was totally un-institutionalized. It showed.

It took me a lot longer to become un-institutionalized; I never went sailing but eventually came to New Zealand and met John.
At parties I am finally dancing, I quit my job and I am joyfully building a boat too.

Exit Dilbert, enter Wilma. I am no longer torn; the cartoon is funny.