Blog #39

On a lovely, residential street near my home, there used to be a gray, wooden building.  More a shack really -- perhaps a hog shed -- an out-building of an old farm parcel.  It was surrounded by high-priced subdivisions on one side and glass and steel office buildings on the other.  It was old and useless and left behind in the modern rush, but it was interesting and provocative.  There was certainly a story there, a story from 50 or 100 years ago, a story the Shell station couldn’t tell, or the Walgreen’s down the street.  I used to wave at the useless, old, broken-down thing.  It seemed only fitting.  That was years ago and the old shed is gone now, replaced by yet another glass and steel office building.  Sometimes I think that the old and useless things in the world might just be the most interesting.

And speaking of old and useless things, I’m back.  And I’m shocked at all the powerful and famous men that are falling to sexual scandals.  My wife asked me if, in all the years I had been in business and had many women working under me (that’s a bad phrase, isn’t it?), whether I had been involved in any harassment.  “Well, in all honesty,” I told her, “there was one little incident in High School.  You see, the high-school girls were playing softball and I just couldn’t take my eyes off the shortstop.” 

I thrilled to her figure and grace

And loved when I looked at her face

So I tried to make sport

With the girl who played short

But I couldn’t get past second base.

It all worked out fine in the end -- I married her.

Want a movie review?  We saw a movie this week called Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, MO.  Why is Missouri the locale for every accumulation of deranged drug dealers and perverts?  First there was Winter’s Bone with Jennifer Lawrence, then Ozark on cable, now this.  Anyway, the acting was very good, but the constant assault of the vilest cursing and extreme violence was disturbing.  Perhaps children everywhere call their mothers words I have never used in my life.  Perhaps only in Missouri.  For two hours I was assaulted with raw hatred, bigotry and violence and the most disgusting language in a film that somehow billed itself as a “black comedy”.  Comedy?  They even worked a dwarf into the plot so they could make fun of him!  The fact that the acting was good did not lessen my revulsion.  Carol kind of liked it.  I guess she has more of a stomach for rape, beatings, suicide, blood, burning flesh, racism and defenestration than I do.

Even so, when I came out of the movie, I said I liked it.  You see, here’s what often happens:  we go to a movie with another couple, we watch the movie, we come out.  “How did you like it?” someone asks, and I reply, “It was ok; I didn’t love it.”   Three days later I see one of my friends and he says, “I heard you didn’t like the movie.”  How does this news get around?  And why would someone bother to waste their time by saying, “Michael didn’t like it”?  Who cares what I like?  Do you remember the commercial – Let’s get Mikey.  He hates Everything. . . . He likes it!  Hey, Mikey!  Do you remember the product?  I’ll tell you later.

Carol finally told me, “Whatever the movie is, just say you liked it so everyone doesn’t think you’re some old curmudgeon who hates everything.”   So I shrugged and said I liked it.  When we got home I told Carol the truth.  Then three days later we met someone who said, “I heard you liked the movie”, and Carol replied, “No he didn’t, he hated it.”  Yes, I hated this Billboard movie, but don’t tell anybody.  It’s just between us.  I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m a curmudgeon.

As soon as I started to accumulate grandchildren, I began to sit on the floor and play with toys, watch cartoon movies, make up stories and sneak extra desserts without telling their mom.  I stay young because I have my playmates.  And to them?  Well, I make them laugh and buy them toys and tell them stories, so to them I’m a super-hero.  Look, it’s POPPYMAN – faster than a, well, not actually faster than much of anything.  More powerful than a, no, not really.  Able to leap – are you kidding?  But I’m a good hugger, and even though my body ages inexorably, my grandkids have kept my mind young and childish.  I want them to have all the good things in life.  And then I want to move in with them.

This morning I got a call from my 12-year-old, Tyler.  He was at school and had completed an assignment to write about the person who had influenced him the most.  He chose me, and the teacher asked him to call me and read me the essay.  So excuse me for a minute while I wipe the moisture from my cheeks.  There must be a leak in the roof.

I remember to this day a night when Tyler was six.  Carol was in California helping to usher in another grandson (Parker) and I was alone.  Tyler slept over that night and we had a wonderful time – movies, pancakes, games.  Tyler slept with a little blanket he called a Lovie back then.  When we climbed into bed, he asked me, “Poppy, where’s your Lovie?”  “In California,” I replied.

Welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well.  As I said before, I read a lot of history, and from my readings I have painstakingly compiled a list of historical figures who, though you didn’t know it, most certainly were Jewish.  You can tell just by the things they said.  For instance:

We knew King Arthur was Jewish when he said, “I want a round table.”

We knew the Wicked Witch of the West was Jewish when she said, “I’m not going out in the rain and get wet.”

We knew Joan of Arc was Jewish when she said, “I’m cold.  Can we turn the heat up?”

We knew Attila was Jewish when he said, “Yes, Hun.  Whatever you say, Hun.”

We knew Venus de Milo was Jewish when she said, “Damn, I broke a nail.”

We knew Helen of Troy was Jewish when she said, “Menelaus, take me to Paris.”

We knew Goldilocks was Jewish when she said, “This bed’s too hard.  I want a new room.”

We knew Little Red Riding Hood was Jewish when she said, “We’re going out with the Wolfs again tonight.”

Wow movies, sexual perverts, Little Red Riding Hood!  Have I left anyone out?  Well, I’ll get ‘em next week.  Maybe it’ll be you.  Don’t miss it.  And stay well.   

MIKEY                         Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com 

 Oh, and the Mikey commercial was for Life Cereal.