DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (03-11-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

 
     According to a study by a major insurance company, 77 percent of accidents take place within 15 miles of home. I find that it's even more convenient to take care of the whole 77 percent right IN your home. If you hop into your car and drive 15 miles just to have an accident something bad could happen to you along the way. I always seem to pick the most dangerous things to do around the house when my wife is away for the weekend. I know she loves me and if she were here to witness any mishap I believe that she would eventually call the paramedics, after enjoying a nice quiet cup of coffee with the newspaper while I'm unconscious. If the paramedics remember me from last time she might make them a cup too.

     What are you going to do while I'm gone, she asked me, and I told her I'm going to clean my shotgun. She rolled her eyes a few times, because whenever a wife kills her husband on "Forensic Files," she says he was cleaning the shotgun. They're going to be suspicious of her of course, but her lawyer proves that it can be done by pretending to shoot himself by pulling the trigger with his toe. The jury is rooting for the gun. I don't want to anyone to cast a suspicious eye at my wife in case anything happens so I take off my shoes and socks before cleaning the gun.

     I had a some other things to cross off my "honey-do" list. Next was to hang up a new bird feeder. A squirrel had rigged the old one so that bird seeds poured out the side when he stood on the perch. He probably took a chainsaw to it when his wife was away for the weekend. The new feeder had a picture of a squirrel crying on the box (no lie), so I just added him to the list of those who are disappointed by me. I brought out the most rickety wooden ladder you've ever seen, which looks like it was made by a fifth grade shop class right before recess. As I was swinging from side to side near the top of the thing the birds were watching, the squirrels were watching, waiting for me to fail, like when someone hits me an easy lob on the tennis court.

     The most challenging time to change an outdoor lighting fixture is in the rain, but thought I might even up the odds by switching the breaker off first. I flipped the wrong one and the garage lights went off and I couldn't see where it was to turn it back on, so I tried to find a flashlight and by force of habit turned off the light switch on the wall thinking I was turning it on, and when I found the flashlight and turned the breaker back on the switch was still off and when I went over to turn it back on the battery in the flashlight went dead. This went on for quite a while, and thank god no squirrels were around to witness it and laugh at me.

     It's not like I'm a daredevil or anything. Sure, I have a devil-may-care attitude, but then again he may not. Usually I play things pretty safe. I don't interact with dogs that I'm not familiar with; I to try to get to know them a little better by inviting them over to the house to watch the ballgame. I don't drive dangerously. I see drivers do things all the time that I consider absolutely NUTS whenever I'm not doing them myself. "Reckless" is an ironic word for people that get into a lot of wrecks, but it's not me. I don't even eat dangerous foods, like mushrooms for instance, in case they turn out to be poisonous and I don't have the antidote. I don't eat bananas because I read that they are full of plutonium. Or was it potassium? Either way I'm not taking any chances. I don't order swordfish for obvious reasons.

     And because I'm so careful I made it through most of the weekend without injuring myself or others, and now I'm going to do something boringly safe and get rid of all that ice and snow around the garage doors. And I have just the 50-foot range industrial flamethrower for the job. Stay safe, people, and don't do anything that I wouldn't not do.
 

A SLIPPERY SLOPE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (03-04-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     It's a jungle out there- you can strain your elbow playing golf, and you can sprain your knee playing basketball. You can pull your groin playing tennis, or engaging in sports in the comfort of your own home that you thought were relatively safe. But just about any recreational activity these days can land you in the hospital with a deadly virus, and blaming it on your teammates will be less productive than usual.

     One of the safest sports you can engage in during a pandemic is skiing. You're outdoors, you're covered from head to toe, and you control how far away you are from others on the slope. If you're close enough to give me covid on a ski slope, it probably means that you're about to collide into me and cause me serious bodily harm anyway. If it looks like I'm about to collide into you, don't panic- you still have plenty of time to get your affairs in order because I generally go faster on the way up the mountain than on the way down. Anyway, if you have so many affairs that it's hard to keep them in order, you've probably got other things to worry about.

     We traveled to lovely Vernon, New Jersey where, no doubt against state covid protocols, they had sold the mountain to full capacity, but were operating the ski lifts at only half capacity, adhering to random enforcement of health safety measures. So you had about 35 minutes to kill on the lift line, not distanced from others and with haphazard mask enforcement. Those same slipshod policies forbade you from eating or smoking on the line and internet reception was spotty, so if you didn't bring a crossword puzzle or a deck of cards you were out of luck.

     Any covid germs with the kind of work ethic that could penetrate my complicated security system have my undying respect, at least I hope it's undying. I'm wearing long underwear, short underwear, medium underwear, a hoodie, a jacket, goggles, gloves and a scarf. I'm dressed to the nines, and if I had brought a decent necktie I would have worn that too. The most persevering cooties would have to stow away beforehand or procure a VIP pass to get access to me on the ski slopes. I saw people on the lift line who went even farther than I did. Several teenagers had on a turtle-shaped butt protector that looked so incredibly dumb that I had to wonder how many times you would have to fall to justify wearing one, and the number I came up with was 378. One guy was wearing a covid mask shaped like a huge Rip Van Winkle beard, which looked just as annoying as a regular beard and kept getting caught in his jacket zipper.

     You could only ride the gondola with the people you came with, so if you came with someone who has covid, at least be thankful that they didn't also have the bubonic plague. That policy saved me from having to make small talk with strangers, which I can never do normally. I talk about the weather, and how nice it is that it's sunny, or how nice it is that it's not sunny, depending on if it's sunny or not. If it's a slow lift and I get down to a discussion of isotherms and the dew point, the guy next to me is looking around for a second set of ear muffs.

     On the way up the mountain I take a gander at the black diamond slope. I'll warm up on the blue slope then give it a try. What they need is something between a blue square and a black diamond, maybe a purple trapezoid. I'm pretty sure I can handle it, as long as all the inexperienced weekend warriors don't snowplow all the powder off of the top. There might be moguls which could cut down on my speed, so maybe I'll put it off until the beginners even them out. I tell my wife I'm going to give it a try before it gets too icy. Looks like the sun is coming out, so maybe some of that ice will melt. I'll crush it after lunch. We bring our lunch along so we don't have to waste valuable time on the cafeteria line when we could be wasting it on the lift line. After lunch I take another look at the black diamond, but it seems a little crowded. With my skills it should be a piece of cake, but the conversation about it abruptly ends when I almost fall on the the hill at the end of the ski lift, which is harder than it looks.

HEART COPY

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (02-25-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     There is only one way to get through Valentine's Day, and that's together. My wife and I have been together longer than traffic and weather, and it doesn't happen by accident. It takes perseverance, patience and even a little humility to make it work. Since none of those adjectives describe me at all, I got myself a partner who has those qualities and maybe they'll eventually rub off on me.

     When I throw one of my legendary temper tantrums, and I'm yelling at myself for doing something stupid again so loudly that the cat scurries under the couch, who is the one that talks me down from the ledge? It's definitely not the cat. When I'm trying to do something on the computer and can't figure it out, who calmly applies logic and patience to the problem? Not the cat either. And when it's late at night and I'm stuck in a mire of endless tedium for work, who comes and sits on my lap? Actually this time it is the cat.
     I have my own role in the relationship, which is to keep things light and carefree so nobody notices that life might be a struggle at times. They say that women like guys with a great sense of humor, which makes it lucky for me that in spite of mine, my wife married me anyway. I have her trained as a straight man, so that when she says "Huh?" I say, "Yeah," and we go back and forth like an old Burns and Schreiber routine. We tried it the other way around, but when I say, "Huh?" she just repeats what she said because it's sometimes difficult to distinguish between comedy and old age, and then I have to move on to something from Burns and Allen.

     Every couple has their own rhythm, their own ebb and flow. I know couples who argue ALL the time. They bicker about something that the other one said, but they said that they never said that. Yes they did, I remember it clearly, as clear as the day I was born. You remember the day you were born? That's not what I said. You just said it. It's a figure of speech, an idiom. YOU'RE an idiom. And it goes on like that while the rest of us at the table are waiting for coffee, trying to keep score in case the fight goes to the judges. If I leave to go to get the fire hose to separate them, when I return they're back to laughing, together, at ME. That's just the way some couples operate, they shoot it down so they can build it back up again.

     There are some celebrity couples that seem to communicate only by Instagram. She posts a picture of herself in a bikini, and he comments about how great she's rocking it, and seven thousand other people who are not actually involved in the relationship comment about how you shouldn't rock a bikini after a certain age, and seven thousand other people clap back that you should, and she claps back and he claps back, and by the time the applause dies down she's in a different bikini.

     I feel a little sorry for single people sometimes. I'm sure they think they're having more fun, but they don't have anyone to tell them that what they're doing is stupid, let alone what they're wearing. If you are reading this, and you're single, look at what you have on and ask yourself if your wife or girlfriend would have approved of you wearing camo shorts with sandals in February. If the answer is yes, congratulations on your bachelorhood because you dodged a bullet.

     It is true that shared tastes are a plus in a relationship, and sometimes you can steer your partner in your direction, and if you're smart you'll let yourself be steered in hers, too. I've introduced my wife to the subtleties of Sinatra and the joys of jazz. She has me enjoying vegetables I can't pronounce and eating dishes made with a roux. She got me watching "Monk" and I have her watching "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia." Your relationship will prosper if you both like cuisine with the exact same amount of garlic.

     I know a couple where the wife is a Democrat and the husband is a Republican, and while that may not be uncommon, the last four years have put a few extra layers of stress on a relationship. And people need to find a way to get past it all so you don't end up with two Independents. Perhaps she thinks the stimulus package could be a little bigger. Perhaps he favors a decrease in domestic spending. If you're willing to walk down the aisle, you can surely walk across it. I myself am willing to do anything for my party, and I'll even run out for more hamburgers if necessary.

     I don't care whether you're straight, gay, binary, trinary or dating one of the prime numbers, kiss someone you love every day and mean it. I'll post a picture of myself in a bikini if you don't.

OFFENSIVE LINES

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (02-18-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     I heard there was a big football game last Sunday and I set out in search of it. I couldn't wait for the game to start, but patience is a virtue during the Super Bowl pregame. There was a Presidential Word, A Moment of Silence, An Inspirational Video, An Official Hearing-Impaired Signer Introduction, A Patriotic Song, The Color Guard Presentation, The National Anthem, A Military Flyover, A Heartening Poem, An Essential Worker Recognition, A Coin Toss Ceremony, and then we finally got to the main event: the commercials. Perhaps it would have been appropriate to add a reading of the United States Constitution and maybe a quick run-through of the periodic table of the elements. I started to feel like the over/under on when the game would start was never.

     First the teams had to emerge from the catacombs beneath the building, where they were safely squirreled away in an airtight vault where they had been accruing interest, awaiting their grand entrance. That took another five minutes, and it reminded me of the scene in "This Is Spinal Tap," where the band tries to make it from the dressing room out to the arena stage, but keeps getting lost and passing the same mechanic in the boiler room over and over again.

     There seemed to be something of a disconnect between what was happening at the stadium and what we were seeing at home. The President and First Lady thanked the essential workers and reminded everyone to wear a mask, and a few of the 22,000 fans in attendance got the message, the ones that weren't eating, drinking or ordering food and drinks. The stadium was only at 30 percent capacity due to covid restrictions, and it was harder to get into Raymond James Stadium than it was to get into the Capitol Building.

     A poem by America's Youth Poet Laureate celebrated the honorary co-captains for the game, who were essentially essential workers. The verse was uplifting, but I feel that I could have done just as good a job, as America's Poet Ignoreate. I picture myself sharing some life-affirming poems, like the one that goes, "I once knew a lady from Dallas,..." Actually, maybe I'll save that one for the post-game. Or the one that starts, "A damsel from North Carolina,..." Come to think of it that one might be better for post-post-game. Turns out poetry is harder than it looks. Just as I'm finishing my poem I get the "stretch it for time" signal from the stage manager, apparently the Air Force flyover is only now passing above Valdosta, and I have to come up with some more words that rhyme with "Gronkowski."

     The game finally did begin, but by the end of the first half it was beginning to look like a snore, and I started pining for some more poems and maybe the Pledge of Allegiance performed by a troupe of Tik Tok influencers.

     I usually root against Tom Brady because I'm tired of good-looking, well-spoken, well-educated, charitably-minded winners who say all the right things trying to act as role models. But the 43 year-old leading his team to victory did feel like a win for the old guys. It proves us ancient geezers are still at the top of our game. Just the other day I was making breakfast and my egg started rolling across the counter off the edge, and with an impressive athletic flourish I grabbed it in mid-air. I dropped the rest of the carton on the foot in order to catch it, which made quite a mess. But I attacked the problem with all the mental acuity and perspicacity of a.... What were we talking about again?

     I read that this year's was the most bet-on Super Bowl ever. Somebody laid $2.3 million on Tampa Bay and won $2 million. Most of the people betting on the coin toss bet "heads" and won. I'm willing to bet that if I was the referee I'd be looking all over for a quarter at the last minute, because no one carries cash anymore. "Does anyone at least have a Bitcoin?" If you lost a pile of cash I'm sorry, but don't be too hard on the Chiefs. It turns out that quarterback Patrick Mahomes played the entire game with a bad case of "turf toe." Was he just faking the injury to try and jump the coronavirus vaccine queue? I'll let you know if I see him on the line- I'm faking old age as a pre-condition and I can be pretty convincing.