“In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun.” - Mary Poppins
**The audio recording of this Morton Train is available to paid subscribers here.**
I heard recently that Steve Martin, Martin Short, and Tom Hanks have annual “colonoscopy parties,” something that inspired a storyline in a new episode of Hacks. The guys schedule their colonoscopies for the same day and, during the uncomfortable preparatory evening before, they keep one another company.
It’s amazing what friendship can bring to the most boring or unpleasant of activities. Earlier this year, during an exceptionally cold time in January, a friend asked me to drive her to a medical appointment and pick her up afterward. We turned it into a slumber party and spent the whole weekend together.
And back in my twenties, my pals in Brooklyn and I would have annual Tax Parties. We’d invite the accountant to one of our apartments for a long evening and park him & his laptop at the kitchen table. Then we’d visit with one another in the living room - playing games or dancing or watching TV - and, one by one, we’d head to the kitchen to do our taxes.
Even as a kid growing up, there were certain ordinary activities that became fun - even exhilarating - when shared with a friend. Like doing homework side by side, or walking to the neighborhood drugstore, or riding a city bus across town.
In college, when my friends and I were all living away from our parents for the first time, there was a real novelty to doing ordinary grownup things together. Just making a meal or doing chores or running errands became engagingly fun because the activity was shared with friends.
So at age 22, when it was discovered that my classmate Jennifer and I both needed to get our wisdom teeth removed, it made perfect sense to make it a shared adventure. We were nearing the end of our last semester and were both about to get dropped from our parents’ health insurance so it was time to seize the moment: We’d have our oral surgeries together in our college town, on the same day at the same place.
Jennifer and I were strategic when it came to planning for this event. Each semester, we theatre majors had to do trial auditions for the faculty called Departmentals. These weren’t auditions for any particular show, these were just general auditions for the faculty to critique. We all dreaded them. It was my genius idea to schedule our oral surgeries on the very day of Departmentals. I mean, could there be any better excuse for missing school than going under the knife?
The night before the surgeries, while our classmates prepared for those dreaded auditions, Jennifer and I ran two exciting errands. First to the video store closest to campus which had a fabulous offer: rent 5 movies for 5 days for 5 dollars. Then to the grocery to purchase the soft foods that the lady at the doctor’s office had recommended. We were all set!
On the morning of the surgery, our friend Jo dropped us off and promised to bring another friend, Molly, with her when she picked us up. (None of us knew how affected Jennifer and I would be from the anesthesia and pain killer.) I don’t think it hit me until I got into that waiting room what a scary thing I was about to do. I’d never undergone such a serious medical procedure before and - though I reveled in my new adult independence - it was bizarre not having either of my parents there with me.
Jennifer and I, side by side, clutched the clipboards and filled out the forms. And then we had to part ways. I was taken alone into an exam room where I had to watch a video about the dangers of “going under” and sign a document stating that I understood the risks - which included sudden death. Yikes.
I decided in that moment that I would not go under, that I would rather stay awake during the procedure. Not because I feared I might die, but because I feared losing control. This was during a time in my life when I was reluctantly coming to grips with my sexual orientation. I was certain that, were I to go under, all the fear and shame would spill out of me and I’d start telling the surgeon and nurses about how gay I was.
So to avoid accidentally coming out to the staff of Oral Surgery Evansville, I opted to stay wide awake while my wisdom teeth were being cut out. (I’ll spare you the gory details, dear reader.) It was a great relief, when it was all over, to reunite with Jennifer in the waiting room. She had gone under and was kind of loopy, ready to laugh and relax which helped me to do the same.
Jo and Molly took us back to Jennifer’s house where we proceeded to binge watch movies, tend to our wounds, and eat soft food together, jointly zoned out on pain killers. The next day, we decided to have a little picnic on campus. The two of us sat on a blanket, carefully shoveling fries and spooning milkshakes into our swollen faces while waving at our friends as they went off to class. That truly was an enjoyable occasion. And as the days went by, Jennifer and I continued to check in with each other, sharing details about the stitches, the soreness, the new soft food discoveries. Even the tedious recovery period had a spark of fun in it because my friend shared it with me.
Many years have gone by since the wisdom teeth adventure and the Brooklyn Tax Parties. Reflecting on these experiences has me wondering… whether you’re single or married or partnered, what ordinary activities in life can be shared so that they aren’t so tedious, so that they may even become fun?
Modern life can be very stressful and overly complicated. Doesn’t friendship just, well, make everything better?
Brilliant! So inspiring. Thank you for sharing all the sharing!