Road Apples by Tim Sanders
Dec. 20, 2010
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Yuletide questions yule never ask PROLOGUE: One night many years ago, as Momma and I were adjusting our kerchiefs and caps, I heard a clatter out on the lawn, and ran to the window and threw up. Threw up the sash, that is. “What was that, dear?” Momma asked, still struggling with her kerchief. “Only a gust of wind and our garbage can,” I replied. She thought it would be a swell idea for me to go outside on that cold, windy night and retrieve the garbage can, but I had a better idea. “How about if instead I sit down and answer some frequently asked Christmas questions for tomorrow’s column?” She said that since it was only March, it might be a better idea to wait until the Christmas season to try that one. She was right, of course. What would have been a really stupid column in early March turned out to be a really stupid column in late December too, except that nobody noticed because they were so busy Christmas shopping they never read it. Well, it’s Christmas time again, and if you are stuffing your stockings with something other than feet this year, here’s another Q-and-A column you can use as filler. ACTUAL YULELOGUE: Q: Yesterday my daughter Tiffany asked me, “Daddy, can you name all eight of Santa’s reindeer?” I done real good on Dancer, Prancer, Daschle and Nixon, but then I drew a blank and the only other two I could come up with was Grumpy and Doc. She started weeping and stomped her foot and run upstairs to take a pill. What was the two I missed? I really need to know. A: First, just how old is your daughter? Q: Tiffany will be 46 in February. Why? A: Has she been complaining of hot flashes? Q: Matter of fact, yes. A: Then your daughter is going through what untrained laypersons used to refer to as “The Change.” Now, of course, with a better understanding of how the human body functions, most refer to it as “The Kathy Bates Syndrome.” Don’t worry about getting the reindeer’s names right, she’d probably weep even if you did remember Trigger and Rudolph. Then she'd go looking for a claw hammer. Q: RUDOLPH! Dang it all! A: Don’t feel bad. Everybody forgets Rudolph. Q: What is the perfect gift for the man who has everything? A: A more cynical journalist might suggest donning a Santa disguise, driving to his home, and inserting a fat, festive yuletide potato into the exhaust pipe of his new Lexus. But we are not a more cynical journalist, and would instead recommend hiring a young boy to do it for you. Or you could buy the gentleman the Hog Wild Twirling Spaghetti Fork, which may be purchased from the prestigious Hog Wild® Company for a mere $13.21. This motorized fork looks almost exactly like an electric toothbrush, except that instead of a brush on the end it has metal fork tines, and the user is expected to turn it off when inserting the spaghetti into his mouth. I’m sure there are warnings posted on the box. Q: Aunt Leona and Uncle Lonnie they got an older model Buick which runs out very good and the heater works and everything, and since our Escort threw a rod they pick us up for church on Sundays. They is old people, and love garlic, and is very gassy, and if you’d of ever been around Uncle Lonnie when he took off his shoes you’d know that the combination of foot odor and the other things I mentioned, mixed with that nasty Ben-Gay, makes their Buick smell something awful. I read about a company name of Chemical Guys Mfg. which sells a product called New Car Air Freshener. Do you think they would be offended if I was to give them a case of the stuff for Christmas? A: You need to know that for several years now environmentalists have been calling that “New Car Smell” we all love so much, toxic. According to a December 14, 2010 report in the Denver Post, Martin Erzinger was driving his new 2010 Mercedes sedan last July when he fell asleep and rear-ended bicyclist Dr. Steven Milo. Erzinger's lawyers say he may have been under the influence of “New Car Smell.” So while that “New Car Smell” spray may look like an attractive gift option, some bicycling doctor your relatives rear-end may sue them, and they in turn just might sue you, and of course you’d have no choice but to sue the Chemical Guy Mfg. Co. Why not buy your relatives one of those little scented skunks to hang from their rear view mirror? It would be cheaper all the way around. Q: Any other gift suggestions? A: Yes. For the family who has everything, including a reasonably new baby, there is the much anticipated Why Cry® Baby Crying Analyzer, which may be purchased from the Why Cry Corporation for $37.95 on Amazon.com. According to one review, the little gadget has an LCD readout which can tell you whether your baby is “hungry, sleepy, stressed, annoyed, or bored.” Apparently there is no “HEY, I GOT A LOAD ON!” option, but since you have to hold the Why Cry Analyzer fairly close to the child and wait a few seconds to get the desired results, your nose will probably already have analyzed the reason for that particular cry. Q: Me and Daddy and my second cousin Marvin was sharing a bottle of Morgan Davis 20-20 on the porch and Daddy said how he passed a kidney stone last June and seen stars and had an epiphany. Marvin he was married to a Catholic oncet and he said according to regulations only wise men could have epiphanies and even then they was only allowed to have them in January not in June. I told him that I could show him that epiphany in a Mason jar which Daddy kept on his bedside table and was he saying Daddy wasn’t no wise man and he said he didn’t know about Daddy but I weren’t exactly the shiniest piece of tinsel on the tree and one thing led to another and now Marvin’s got to have that regulator cup surgery and expects me to pay. My wife Tina she wants me to sue Marvin for my big toe which he broke with his kneecap. A: Was there a question there somewhere that we missed? Q: Not as I recollect. A: Good. We (my tapeworm and I) try to steer clear of theological disputes, particularly when they involve alcoholic beverages and family members. EPILOGUE: To those of you who sent in no questions, you’ve displayed excellent judgement. Merry Christmas. |