What in the world is going on these days? "We thought you knew -- you're the worldly one..." Come on, you guys must've heard. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you -- what?" You really don't know what I'm talking about, do you? "Now I can hear you, that's better -- what?" You know -- "No, I don't!" -- the bathroom fiasco. It's an absolute joke. "Hey, I didn't clog no bathroom, buddy. Don't look at me..." Look at me -- I need to tell you about the latest gimmick. "Okay, ol' wise one, gimme the gimmick." Before I start, you better brace yourselves because the world will never be the same. "Oh, you must be talking about Snooki becoming a mother. I hear -- " No, not that -- we'll leave that for another day... Actually, as hard as it is to fathom -- "Watch it with that f-word, buddy." -- there's talk of something even more unimaginable. "You mean..." Yes, some genius wants to run ads on public bathroom mirrors! "No way!" Isn't that creepy? "On high definition?!" Come on, guys, that's crossing the line, don't you think? "I like to think sometimes, yes..." Are you just going to sit there and do nothing about it?! "And what about you?!" Hey, I'm doing my part! -- I'm spreading the word! (why am I yelling?) Is there no escaping commercialism anymore? Is no place sacred? "I hear George Clooney's Italian villa's pretty cool..." Hey, I'm pretty sure you don't want to be inundated by commercials while you're doing your business. You want to get in and out... "Speak for yourself." Well, I don't want a 30-second spot blaring before me as I struggle with my contacts. "Go on..." I don't want to be distracted by bathroom ads as I tuck back nose hairs. "Oh come on, don't be silly. Bathroom mirror commercials are not going to distract anybody. No way in the -- Hey, you forgot to wash you hands, buddy! Your hands!"
Protest is good, I guess... "I don't want my vegetables!" After all, we live in a country where Freedom of Speech is one of our fundamental rights... "No talking during the movie, please!" Subsequently, there's a woman in the Southwest who found a unique way to protest who-knows-what. She decided to climb to the roof of her house. And stay there. "Is she adding solar panels or something?" This woman refused to come down for days at a time. "Not even to re-do her makeup?" Family members couldn't find a way to get her down. "I baked you your favorite, sweet potato pie..." After awhile, everyone in her neighborhood started to worry. "She's becoming an eye sore." Personally, I hope there aren't ever any copycats, especially during the holidays. I mean, I'd hate to hear that Santa skipped homes -- namely mine -- because he spotted angry protesters sitting on their rooftops (so far, I've been a very good boy this year). At the same time, I have to admire the woman for taking such a strong stance. Truth be told, I could never protest as vehemently as she did. "Never?" Sorry, but I'm being honest. "I think you're lying." Frankly, I don't like to protest or make waves (I'm afraid it might upset people). Especially from a pointy rooftop. "Ouch..." Then again, I could get a lot of reading done while up there... Oh, who am I trying to fool? I couldn't sit on a roof for very long... I mean, what if I got hungry? What if I got a bad case of the shingles? Sorry, but I can only go so long without my daily vitamins. (I'd never hear the end of it if I got sick... "I promise, Ma, I'll never do it again...") I mean, there's gotta be better ways for people to voice their concerns, right? Ways where we don't have to miss important ballgames... Okay look, even if I was extremely passionate about a cause, I'd surely fall off the roof and cause serious damage to body parts that aren't insured. Then what? "Can I sign your body cast?" I'd have to decline such requests for fear that some wise guy would try to sneak inappropriate messages onto my cast. "Uh, can you erase that thing about Nantucket. The drawings, too..." I just hope my wife doesn't hear about the rooftop protester. It might give her ideas, might get her thinking... "You'll find me near the satellite dish..." Huh? "And I'm not coming down 'til somebody helps me fold clothes!" Oh boy, something tells me the kids won't be seeing their mom for a long, long time... "Can anybody hear me down there?! Does anybody care?!"
"Have you noticed what I noticed?" You know, I will say I have taken note. It seems rather fashionable for jetliners to be converted into homes in certain neighborhoods. "You seen the wings on that thing...?" For the record, I once lived in a converted garage -- but a one-time big bird? Can't say I've ever tried it. "Don't knock it if you haven't..." Sorry, but I don't think I'd like living out of an airplane. "You'd feel like you're always on the road, huh?" Well no, but... "Living out of a suitcase..." First off, I'd have so much trouble deciding where to sit every time I came home. "Please, dear, have a seat... " Yeah, which one? (not that I'm indecisive) Then there are the boys from the old neighborhood who would try to take advantage, always ask me for favors: "Hey, homey, how 'bout a ride?" I'd have to say "No" right? "That's messed up, dude..." Then again, on those days when I felt like a bit of an elitist, I could always sit in First Class... "Caviar, please..." Yeah, right. I can already see my wife taking advantage of such living arrangements: "Come and get it -- water and peanuts!" Forget that. And believe you me, I wouldn't stay quiet: "How 'bout something with meat and bones once in awhile!" On the other hand, staying in coach would help keep me grounded, given all my recent success (stop laughing). Maybe I should try living in an airplane on a trial basis, maybe put one next to our current house. But wait, first I'd have to get an 'okay' from our esteemed association (you have to get written permission just to sneeze in our community). And here's another thing: I don't think my wife would care too much for her new wardrobe: "I'm tired of dressing like a flight attendant all week long!" (At least she wouldn't complain there wasn't a thing to wear.) Nah, maybe living in an airplane wouldn't be such a good idea. Knowing my wife, she'd get tired of giving instructions to the kids every morning as they left for school... "Exits are on either side -- and this time leave the oxygen masks behind!"
"Something fishy's going on around here..." As a matter of fact, it is, especially now that bass fishing's an official sport in Kentucky high schools. "Are you sure?" Well, uh, that's my understanding. I think... Being the worldly guy that I am, I'm pretty certain they're talking about the fish... Then again, maybe it's bass guitars... (I figure it's the fish since so few of those guitars are tossed into lakes and streams each year anyway.) But let's assume it's those big-eyed sea creatures they're talking about down south. If so, it brings to question how compatible the sport of fishing will be with scholastic life. Will the student body welcome the sport with open mouths, uh, arms? "You would think so..." Will team members be allowed to roam the hallways with fishing rods? "My eye! You poked my eye!" Simply put, will the sport of fishing be detrimental to a 'positive learning environment'? "Did something die? -- What's that smell?!" Here's another thing: Will the varsity guys and gals get to 'letter' in this new sport, too? "I don't see why not..." Will the image of a flopping fish be proudly on display on the letterman jackets? Most importantly, how are those fishing school boys ever going to find prom dates? "You're asking me to the prom? -- smelling like that?!" With any luck, bass fishing will be as popular as Kentucky basketball someday. "Adolf Rupp's gonna roll over in his grave..." And I wonder if actress Ashley Judd will start showing up for Final Four 'Fish-offs' in her home state now that it's a competitive sport. You know, to cheer on her favorite fishing squad... "Go team! -- finish that fish!" How funny, all this fish talk has me interested in taking up the sport myself. I mean, it appears relaxing and kind of fun... I'm sure my wife wouldn't mind... "Are you sure?" Sure, I'm sure. My wife's a good sport... "That's not what we heard..." Okay, so she has a sensitive nose, and she does mind when I apply stinky ointments to my achy erector spinae muscles. But other than that, I don't think my lovely spouse will have any problems if I take up fish -- "OUT! AND STAY OUT!" Maybe I'll take up bird watching instead...
"It's not nice to call people names." Okay, fine, but what about race horses? "Uh, what do you mean?" As you may know -- "I don't." -- I'm going to own race horses someday. "Really?" And you know what that means... "I hate to be mean, but, what does that mean?" As owner, I'll get to name my horses... "But sir, the horse already has a name..." Oh yeah, I'm going to flex my very creative muscles. "You have muscles?" I can't wait to get started. I'll give my ponies really cool names, something wild like 'El Caballo.' "You're going to name your horse 'Horse'?" Hey, I just have a knack for that sort of thing, I guess. It's a gift (though I still can't figure out why I wasn't allowed to name my own kids). Another name I have ready for one of my future horses is 'I Ate Too Much'. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think? "To be honest, sir, that makes my stomach churn..." Oh, you're just saying that... "Maybe you should stop while you're ahead." Nah, I'll keep going -- so many names, so little time: 'Where Have Those Hooves Been?' and 'Tail of Two Cities' are two of the many other monikers I'd have to consider for my four-legged friends. "Frankly, sir, a monkey could come up with better names." Yes, this name-calling thing is really my, uh, calling... "There's a couple of things I'd like to call you right about now." Having said that, why limit myself to horses? Maybe I should expand the business... "None of my business, but what business?" It's the one where expectant parents can come to me for name-calling advice... "We can't decide on 'Bruce ' or 'Wayne.'" I can do better -- name him 'Shirley.' (don't knock it -- it was a popular boys name awhile back) Yes, I'll be more than happy to name couples' children if they can't settle on a name. Something memorable, something unique... Something like -- I got it! -- Engelbert Humperdinck. "Uh, that name's already taken." Oh, well, in that case, how about 'Robert R. Roberts'? "Uh, we'll get back to you..."
We're paying for music lessons. "Oh, you're a singer?" Only in the shower. Actually, I'm talking about trumpet lessons. "Cool. We always knew you were talented at something." Uh, the lessons are for our younger son, a boy. "Oh, that's nice, too..." Yes, and the lessons are for good reason: the kid's got a lot of hot air in him. "That's wonderful!" His mother and I couldn't agree more. We put our heads together (not literally) and decided it was a good idea to steer our boy toward music. "Good... that's a good idea..." Not because he's my kid, but he displays an uncanny ability when it comes to the trumpet. I mean, you should see how good he is at putting the instrument back in its case at record speeds. "Sounds like you have a protegé on your hands." Oh, I wouldn't go that far... Though I do expect him to headline a concert someday. But no pressure. In the meantime, some have suggested that our Trumpet Boy get in a little practice time at freeway exits, maybe pick up a few bucks along the way... "It sure would help for college." That's what I say, right? It's never too soon to start saving. Yes, I really think our son has the talent to go a long way -- as long as he applies all that air in an appropriate, socially acceptable manner. Now, let's not fool ourselves. There are some inherent risks that come with trumpet playing -- like puffy cheeks that resemble a chipmunk's. "You don't want that for your son, do you?" No worries. I figure he could always audition for the Mexican version of The Godfather, right? "Don Corleone, how would you like your quesadillas?" I tell ya, my son's grandparents will be so proud. He'll be a one-boy mariachi band. "Play us 'La Cucaracha!'" And just to clarify, this is not a replay of when I was a kid. Back in the day, my dad 'encouraged' me to play my guitar for every friend and relative that set foot in our house... "Play something -- or else!" No siree, no way will I subject my kid to such awkward moments. No way... I want to ease him into the world of music, to make him feel comfortable with his God-given gift... Don't believe me? Then why else would I be trying to convince his brother and sister to play the tuba and trombone, respectively... "Not in a million years, Pops." It doesn't hurt to ask...
"Daddy, I know what I want to do when I grow up." No, absolutely not... Where in the world do kids get their crazy ideas? "From their parents, usually..." Oh... In any case, there's something I find very disturbing... "So, you're saying you're a disturbed person..." Look, my daughter's shown interest in dissecting a human body, maybe making it a career. "A dead body, right?" I'm not sure -- I'm too afraid to ask -- but let's hope so. I'm concerned. I mean, why such proclivity for the macabre? "Pro... maca... what?" I'd like to place all the blame for her strange career interests on horror flicks she watches. "Oh, you're just being silly..." Hey, you have to admit, slasher movies play tricks on kids' minds. I mean, why else would my kid want to cut open a body, right? Then again, as a parent, I'll take some responsibility. "It's about time..." You see, years ago -- over my wife's objections -- I decided it wasn't a good idea to let our daughter dissect frogs at school. "Why not? That's very educational." Nobody understood my hard-line stance at the time. And I was hesitant to explain my reasoning. Until now... I just hope it's not too late. You see, out of respect to frogs -- particularly Kermit the Frog -- I wouldn't allow it. Look, just between you and me, I always wanted a stuffed Kermit as a kid (my mom thought it was healthier for me to snuggle with a stuffed panda, instead). I never got a Kermit, so years later, even as an adult, I felt like I owed something to Kermit and his amphibious pals. "You made a pact?" Yes, I promised myself -- and Kermit -- that I'd never slice and dice a defenseless frog. "What about frog legs? Have you ever eaten those?" I'm going to ignore that... Anyway, that's the explanation for why I never let my kid dissect a frog. "I bet you feel better talking about it, huh?" Yeah, but now look at the results. My daughter's having weird thoughts. She's looking at humans in a whole different light. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about..." I can only hope it's just a phase she's going through... "Daddy, do you have an axe I can borrow...?" Gulp...
