It really wasn't funny

We knew he was an art student from the local university by the Goth clothes. Most woodworkers wear flannel shirts. He was walking back and forth in front of the warehouse. I finally went out and asked him if I could help. He explained that he was looking for the door. We have two doors—one has a regular doorknob with an open sign. The other can be tricky if you’ve never seen a barn door. It slides sideways.

We helped him find lumber for his art project. He needed pretty long lengths. I always let customers arrange the lumber in their vehicles so we’re not liable for any damage. He managed to fit the boards into the new SUV by angling them up through the seats and on to the dashboard. When finished, the rear door didn’t quite latch. He pulled it back about six inches and shut the door firmly. One board shifted ahead one inch…right through the windshield.

He let out an oath that would make a logger blush, then added, “It’s not my car! I borrowed it.”

Why does the misfortune of one member of the human species strike others as funny? It has to be related to the doctrine of Original Sin. Does an ape make grimmacy faces when another ape, swinging from tree to tree accidentally grabs a loose vine and hurtles to earth, landing on an elephant’s back and the elephant picks him up with his trunk and tosses him into the muddy water hole? Of course not.

I did not laugh. One of my guys involuntarily snorted but I gave him “the Look”. At Garreson Lumber we have a rule call the Statute of Limitations. We do not laugh at this sort of thing for a period of time. For small situations it’s when the person has turned the corner and is out of sight. For truly unfortunate events, it’s four years: enough time for the student to graduate, move one with his life and hopefully look back and laugh himself.

Only three days left.