British Humor?

You either “get it” or you don’t.

And sometimes, for folks who “get it”, you either laugh or you find that (to quote a British Queen) “we are not amused”.

My understanding of that broad thing called British humor ranges from Oscar Wilde, George Bernard Shaw, and Bertrand Russel to Monte Python and Benny Hill. (Admittedly, the latter is just too silly for my taste.) From ironic, sardonic, and highbrow to maudlin, dark or lowbrow, Brit humor has a flavor that is far different from its American Cousin. (Apologies to President & Mrs. Lincoln).

I’ve generally thought myself to have an understanding of and appreciation for Brit humor. Until yesterday.

We went to lunch in the dining room of the cruise ship were calling home for 3+ weeks. While standing in line, I overheard the woman in front of us explaining to the woman in front of her (with an accent not quite as distinct as Eliza Doolittle’s before she met Henry Higgins) “…my daughter was in the Royal Navy and she was posted all over the world – and she always came home speaking with a funny accent…” Really? Compared to what?

Now that’s what I call British Humor! (I tried not to laugh out loud on the off chance that she wasn’t joking. Besides, maybe she thinks Californians have a funny accent.

Now that’s funny!

When Barb and I reached the desk, the hostess asked if we’d like to share a table. We’ve met some really interesting people sharing tables so we said “Sure.” We sat for a moment in the waiting area and were then ushered to our table where we greeted our new friends.

Yup. The same couple we’d overheard in line.

While her husband and I chatted on and off through lunch, Mrs. Hill entertained my darling bride with tales of travels (and family) which seemed to share a common theme: her dissatisfaction. And of her complaints to the appropriate parties (when traveling) and of their feeble attempts to apologize, which apologies barely sufficed.

“They always send bottles of wine to my room, and I can’t drink it all and end up packing them in my suitcases and go home with bottles clanging in my luggage.”

Okay. Cause and effect: Dissatisfaction—>Complaint—>Bottle of wine—>suitcases full of wine—>complain….

Here is where my understanding of Brit Humor fails.

She summed it up with….

“But I don’t complain that much.”

Maybe it gets lost in Translation: I speak Californian.