The look of shock and awe

By Jack Elliott
Contributor

Stunned! The blank stare! The look of Shock and awe! Whatever you want to call it, they are pretty much all the same.
My wife, the Pearl of the Orient claims I am quite often stunned and I guess she’s right. As I recall this usually happens when she lays a question or a statement on me out of the blue like, “Jack, how come there was smoke coming out of the computer?” or “Jack, how come the car was going runk, clunk, clunk, and banging, the last three miles?” or my nightmare favourite, “ Jack, what does it mean when the red light that says ‘OIL’ goes on like it’s been since Pinewood?
Questions or statements like these from the Pearl will definitely bring on a truly stunned look from your truly. But I’m not the only one that can look stunned.
At the debating table at the Bakery, the Runt had just finished his toast, was licking the last stray crumbs off his whiskers and had his raised cup halfway to his lips, when Ike queried him, “Say was that your dock I saw drifting by this morning?” Fortunately the coffee was cooled down enough there was no scalding of the nether regions.
Or the truly stunned look Pickle will exhibit when anyone suggests he should get up from the table and do the honours pouring the refills. Or the even more stunned look all round the table when he actually does get up to pour refills without being asked.
The genuinely stunned looks we are seeing this election campaign whether on a televised debate or at an all candidates meeting are legion and it is impossible to pick a winner as they are all equally stunned.
Then there are the stunned expressions occasionally portrayed by members of the audience when a political hopeful actually gives a straight answer.
But I am sure the most stunned look was one I popped the other day down in Hooterville. I was waiting on the installation of a new set of tires resigned to the pain the invoice was going to cause my wallet even if the price was fair and the service superb. This was re-enforced by my pending appointment with the dentist later that morning. I guess I was a little on edge.
That’s when Jason, our local undertaker dropped by the garage with a notice of an upcoming funeral. Now don’t get me wrong, Jason is a really great, very personable guy. It’s just my nature to feel a little apprehensive around people that remind me of my own mortality, particularly since Jason very professionally had set up my ‘Croaking Away from Home’ and other funeral pre- arrangements last year.
The chit-chat amongst the loafers at the garage sucking on their free coffee dragged on a bit then Jason prepared to leave. Looking me square in the eye he stated, “Well, I’ll see you first thing Monday morning, Jack.”
Monday morning! What does he know that I don’t? My mind raced and I guess a super stunned look washed over my face.
“You know Irene’s prayer service. First thing Monday. I might need a key to the church,” Jason hastened to add having correctly read the initial stunned look of shock and dismay I had exhibited.
“A little pronouncement like that kinda grabs y’ doesn’t it?” quipped the Sage Jr at my discomfiture as he poured himself a refill. He was still chuckling as I silently paid my bill and left