ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (05-02-19)
My wife likes to throw a nice dinner party once in a while, invite some of our more well-behaved friends and have a lovely evening. If I promise not to do anything worse than what I did at the last dinner party, I am allowed to attend, too. It gives me a chance to show off my more sophisticated side and prove that I can act just like normal people. I really don't know much about being normal, but I know more about acting than you might think.
I'm supposed to help prepare by making sure my bathroom is ready to receive company. I used to just drape yellow crime scene tape outside the door and set up some orange cones directing traffic over to my wife's bathroom. It does look like there might have been prosecutable offenses committed in my bathroom, but those are more like crimes against nature. Even my dog Gidget knows that company is coming because she sees us stuffing things into the closet that clearly don't belong there. Having people over is a great opportunity to show off how well-trained she is.
Gidget is very pretty, which she gets from my wife's side of the family. She is also kind of quirky, and I don't know whose side of the family she gets that from. She doesn't seem to know how to play like most normal dogs. I tried to teach her to play catch using dog treats. I throw the ball and you catch it. We don't need to diagram any plays, or try to fake a short-yardage play-action pass in the slot or anything like that. You don't even have to throw it back. After about 20 times Gidget caught the ball in her mouth by mistake, so I gave her a treat. The very next try she caught it on purpose, so clearly she is not dumb. But the ball was in her mouth for only a short fraction of a second before she spit it out to make room for the dog biscuit. I had to check instant replay to find out if she actually had possession of the ball, or if it should be declared an incomplete pass. It turns out she is smarter than I am, and finally she taught me how to just throw the dog biscuit, and leave the ball on the floor.
By the way I'm sick of people having a better-trained dog than mine, because those people think it reflects more on the trainer than on the dog. I taught my dog to sit, after such time as it gets tired of standing. I also taught it to shake, even if it's not that cold. I've taught it lots of things, my dog is home-schooled. We have a curriculum that includes physics (any action you take on a cat has an equal and opposite reaction), math (if I had two ham sandwiches and now I only have one, how much trouble are you probably in?) and all kinds of subjects. I'd like to see your dog do any better when I'm over at your house. "So, does your dog know any tricks?" I ask. "Absolutely. Do you have a deck of cards?"
We think eight people is the perfect number for a dinner party. That way if I say something stupid, usually four people are too far down the table to hear it. My wife and I sit at opposite ends. I say I'd like to thank everybody for coming, and my wife says, "What?" I think that's what she said, I couldn't really hear. We like to invite people whose disparate personalities will mesh and invite an exchange of ideas. That's code for: somebody might have voted for Trump, so you need to seat them away from the ones that hate Trump, and make sure nobody has access to anything sharper than a folded napkin. And right before discussing Trump, it is imperative to reiterate that there will be NO discussing Trump. You think climate change is a hoax? Try throwing a teaspoon of Trump into the conversation and see how fast the jet stream blows a bunch of clouds over the appetizers.
Can I offer you something from the bar? How about a Scotch-and-soda, and not that single-malt crap. I surely think that we can afford more than one malt for this auspicious occasion. Actually, the only soda I had for the Scotch-and-soda was Mountain Dew, but they had already opened some wine. I don't know anything about wine, but me trying to say the names of wine in a French accent is like a water buffalo trying to tap dance, and that may or may not be entertaining to some people.
We've had some friends over that are pretty well-to-do, and I like to impress them with my refinement. What I'd really like to know is how they got so well-to-did. A long time ago I told my wife, in case she wanted to run before it was too late, that I wasn't much good at making money. And she said, you may not be good at making money, but you're good at not spending it on me, so someday you might be worth something.
We love to travel, and so do our guests. Traveling the world is so worldly, and it's a great topic of conversation. Go ahead and ask me about it: "Will you be abroad this year?" "No, I like being a dude too much. But we are planning a trip. We were in Rome last year. I don't know if all roads lead to Rome, but I will tell you that I-81 certainly does. Take a right when you get to Lake Oneida." "Really? How interesting. We're thinking of attending the 'running of the bulls' this July." "Is that so? How interesting. I may go in August for the 'sitting around of the worn-out bulls.' Then I'll probably go up to Saratoga, where my horse will naturally win. Then it's off to Nova Scotia, to see the total eclipse of the sun. I'll be traveling with the wife of a close friend. She's an underworld spy, you know." "Oh? How interesting."
My wife is a great cook, and she decided to make an Italian dish called Chazz Palminteri. At least I think that's what she said, I couldn't really hear her from my side of the table.
My wife likes to throw a nice dinner party once in a while, invite some of our more well-behaved friends and have a lovely evening. If I promise not to do anything worse than what I did at the last dinner party, I am allowed to attend, too. It gives me a chance to show off my more sophisticated side and prove that I can act just like normal people. I really don't know much about being normal, but I know more about acting than you might think.
I'm supposed to help prepare by making sure my bathroom is ready to receive company. I used to just drape yellow crime scene tape outside the door and set up some orange cones directing traffic over to my wife's bathroom. It does look like there might have been prosecutable offenses committed in my bathroom, but those are more like crimes against nature. Even my dog Gidget knows that company is coming because she sees us stuffing things into the closet that clearly don't belong there. Having people over is a great opportunity to show off how well-trained she is.
Gidget is very pretty, which she gets from my wife's side of the family. She is also kind of quirky, and I don't know whose side of the family she gets that from. She doesn't seem to know how to play like most normal dogs. I tried to teach her to play catch using dog treats. I throw the ball and you catch it. We don't need to diagram any plays, or try to fake a short-yardage play-action pass in the slot or anything like that. You don't even have to throw it back. After about 20 times Gidget caught the ball in her mouth by mistake, so I gave her a treat. The very next try she caught it on purpose, so clearly she is not dumb. But the ball was in her mouth for only a short fraction of a second before she spit it out to make room for the dog biscuit. I had to check instant replay to find out if she actually had possession of the ball, or if it should be declared an incomplete pass. It turns out she is smarter than I am, and finally she taught me how to just throw the dog biscuit, and leave the ball on the floor.
By the way I'm sick of people having a better-trained dog than mine, because those people think it reflects more on the trainer than on the dog. I taught my dog to sit, after such time as it gets tired of standing. I also taught it to shake, even if it's not that cold. I've taught it lots of things, my dog is home-schooled. We have a curriculum that includes physics (any action you take on a cat has an equal and opposite reaction), math (if I had two ham sandwiches and now I only have one, how much trouble are you probably in?) and all kinds of subjects. I'd like to see your dog do any better when I'm over at your house. "So, does your dog know any tricks?" I ask. "Absolutely. Do you have a deck of cards?"
We think eight people is the perfect number for a dinner party. That way if I say something stupid, usually four people are too far down the table to hear it. My wife and I sit at opposite ends. I say I'd like to thank everybody for coming, and my wife says, "What?" I think that's what she said, I couldn't really hear. We like to invite people whose disparate personalities will mesh and invite an exchange of ideas. That's code for: somebody might have voted for Trump, so you need to seat them away from the ones that hate Trump, and make sure nobody has access to anything sharper than a folded napkin. And right before discussing Trump, it is imperative to reiterate that there will be NO discussing Trump. You think climate change is a hoax? Try throwing a teaspoon of Trump into the conversation and see how fast the jet stream blows a bunch of clouds over the appetizers.
Can I offer you something from the bar? How about a Scotch-and-soda, and not that single-malt crap. I surely think that we can afford more than one malt for this auspicious occasion. Actually, the only soda I had for the Scotch-and-soda was Mountain Dew, but they had already opened some wine. I don't know anything about wine, but me trying to say the names of wine in a French accent is like a water buffalo trying to tap dance, and that may or may not be entertaining to some people.
We've had some friends over that are pretty well-to-do, and I like to impress them with my refinement. What I'd really like to know is how they got so well-to-did. A long time ago I told my wife, in case she wanted to run before it was too late, that I wasn't much good at making money. And she said, you may not be good at making money, but you're good at not spending it on me, so someday you might be worth something.
We love to travel, and so do our guests. Traveling the world is so worldly, and it's a great topic of conversation. Go ahead and ask me about it: "Will you be abroad this year?" "No, I like being a dude too much. But we are planning a trip. We were in Rome last year. I don't know if all roads lead to Rome, but I will tell you that I-81 certainly does. Take a right when you get to Lake Oneida." "Really? How interesting. We're thinking of attending the 'running of the bulls' this July." "Is that so? How interesting. I may go in August for the 'sitting around of the worn-out bulls.' Then I'll probably go up to Saratoga, where my horse will naturally win. Then it's off to Nova Scotia, to see the total eclipse of the sun. I'll be traveling with the wife of a close friend. She's an underworld spy, you know." "Oh? How interesting."
My wife is a great cook, and she decided to make an Italian dish called Chazz Palminteri. At least I think that's what she said, I couldn't really hear her from my side of the table.
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