PAH! #156  October, 2003

My Sweetie Calls Her Man “Squeegee” -- In a Nice Way, I Think: I’m also at the age where I can tell what kind of day its going to be by how loudly my eyes squeak in the morning. I wander from room to room like the guy in the cell phone commercials saying, “Can you hear me now?”

Ghandi’s Spinmeisters: Gandhi’s statement, “Be the change you seek in the world,” is just his handlers’ spin on what he originally said: “Can I count on anyone to friggin’ get anything done around here!!??“

How Stiller & Meara Got Their Start: Did you know that smart married couples review their material before going to dinner parties? The guy says, “I’ll go with the story about the psycho flirt at work who consults the cabala before sales meetings, but then you’ve got to pick it up where she throws fits ‘coz you can do that neck swivel.”

The wife says, “Great -- then that will lead me into the story about Leo-the-accountant-who-said-the-boss’s-wife-had-great-cans-and-didn’t-get-what-the-fuss-was-all-about story.”

Gun To My Head, If I Had to Pick a Disability: I’d choose a temporary deafness that kicked in the moment I heard someone say, “I don’t mean to be a pest, but....”

Attention Vatican: At 3 a.m., I punctured the skin of my feet stepping onto the sharp points of McDonald’s Happy Meals toys left lying on the floor. I didn’t scream. I didn’t curse. Nobody woke up. Those are my stigmata wounds. I am a saint.

Speaking of Religion: The best time to turn to religion is when you’re sick and tired of debauchery -- and not the other way around.

An Administration & Its Libido: A Parable of Bush in Iraq: The Bush administration is like a macho, ducktailed 1950s guy who for a long time had his eye on a sweet exotic thing named Iraq. “I shoulda put the move on her ten years ago when I had the chance,“ he says. He’s obsessed. Leaps at the chance to go after her. He scores and now -- she‘s all his. He’s baffled. “What do I do next?” Now she wants him to paint the house. Build a deck. Plus, they have a kid together. And whoa -- she turns out to have some temper on her, that one.

A Quick Way to Lose 15 Pounds: Own cats. Figure that while you’re out for the day, they hop onto the dining room table, carrying on their feet microscopic fecal matter from the litter box.

Catholic Kiss & Tell (The Cops): When I was a kid, my buddies who went to vacation Bible camp came home with all the sex stories. Catholic boys didn’t go to Bible camp. It turns out that the sex stories Catholic boys would tell had to wait thirty years and is part of a deposition.

Speaking of Religion (Again): I’ve read the entire Bible but it inspires less joy than watching Tony Bennett’s face when he sings.

And Again: If Gabriel, from the Bible, loaned the prophet John his horn, would the man who baptized the messiah be called John the Boptist?

Note to Self: Send this Language Question in to Safire: Do porn actors have to come up with a different slang term to refer to Wednesdays?

People Who Make My Job Harder: If you’re a middle-aged Dad who, when car-pooling your kids around will sing along with their popular songs...knock it off. The sneer they reserve for you spreads into the culture and eventually begins to erode the adult-child relationship I’ve worked hard to cultivate for the past decade. (If you have to sing along with them, choose something that’s before both your times. If you’re stuck, a great starting point is Burl Ives’ “A Little Bitty Tear.”)

Teaching a Kid to Ride a Bike is the Grown Up Version of Flying A Kite: You run along with it, let it fly, and hope it stays up. Once you stop, and the kid keeps going, you make that wobbly motion with your body like you’re watching your bowling ball veer toward the gutter. Big difference: Kites and bowling balls don’t cry.

Losing Faith in My Pharmacist: After he fills my prescription, I pray that my pharmacist doesn’t have to call for a price check. If the pharmacist has to ask, “Is this Bubble Yum on sale?” then the antibiotic just doesn't work as well for me.

If They Had “Fear Factor” For Kids: The winner would be the one who could eat the most peas in a minute without hurling.

One Day, No Fewer Than Five Home Depot Workers Enthusiastically Said “Hi” As I Walked Across the Store: If that is store policy, it’s a bad one. The most helpful Home Depot workers are going to be the home improvement wizards who can size up a job and itemize your needs in a few seconds. These aren’t small talk kind of guys. I just hope the guy who could’ve helped me fix my bathroom tile wasn’t fired a week before for not saying “hi” enough.

Hugh Hefner, Norman Rockwell, Jesus Christ, and Angela: A recent garage sale reminded me of my long gone, lazy hazy days of summer. The guy was selling a bunch of early to mid-1970s Playboy magazines, and so many of them I recognized from the cover. They brought to mind the pre-computer, pre-cable days of hanging out in a real tree house (where we hid the magazines), in a small town without any chain stores or fast food, with literally just one stoplight. A truly bucolic Norman Rockwell town, slow moving, peaceful and safe.

Wait! How can Playboy magazines remind me of a Norman Rockwell small town? Truth is, in this life, everything is side-by-side and in no order. The sordid and the sweet. The profane and the wholesome. The gaudy and the tasteful. I witnessed the tidiest illustration of this theory about eight years ago in New Jersey. I met a manicurist named Angela. During Lent, she'd do the Stations of the Cross on your nails.