Shit Eating Grin

First a shout out to the propagator, if not the originator, of this phrase-in-my-life. J-Mac, this one's for you. No, not you...you.

The artist formerly known as J-Greg who morphed, but may not have metamorphed, into J-Mac has recently noted a certain "shit eating grin" that I carry occasionally.

Today is one of those days.

The new J-Mac may be preserving this marker from the old days of New College where I wore such a smile more often than these days, I think. I was always surprised when someone mentioned it, calling me out in public, "look at this guy's shit eating grin." It was a narrow crew that did name me so, so perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised.

The thing about that grin, and perhaps one of the reasons I was repeatedly surprised by my friends mention of it, was (and is today) that this particular kind of smile poured forth from somewhere I didn't, and still don't, know very well. The curling lips and ecstatically leaping cheeks were simply epiphenomenal of some coursing source of joy. That river from somewhere pervades my entire body, but concentrates its peak flow through my face, eyes, and mouth.

I used to get harassed for its occurrence because it would often correspond with socially questionable humor in the form of irony, private free association, light mockery, non sequitur, or sardonic discourse. It is odd to have just listed these, because it makes me realize just how much love and tolerance I got from my friends as I carried on largely nonsensical humor in their midst. And, despite the negative dialectic evident in those listed modes of jest, the flow of love and wonder they initiated welled up and erased the anger in a monsoon flood of joy and benevolence.

Funny how that works.

Oh, and yes, there is a very good reason I bear the ShitEatingGrin today.