How come anything you buy will go on sale next week?
Erma Bombeck
Most of you know that I’ve spent countless hours at the Club 6019 in my lifetime. There’s always a bounty of food, good conversation, and Margaret aptly tending bar. I’ve lounged by the pool, pumped the pedals of the player piano (wow, say that 3 times fast), viewed a thousand movies, and enjoyed feasting at a multitude of dinner parties. But never, in all that time, have I ever been privy to an exchange quite like this:
“Is that fan going the right direction?”
“Looks like it”
“Isn’t it supposed to be turning clockwise?”
“You mean to draw the air up?”
“Huh?”
“It’s hot in here”
“Are you sure it’s going the right direction?”
“I think it’s going counter-clockwise”
“So it’s pushing the air down?”
“It is NOT hot in here”
“It’s going clockwise”
“Is that right to left?”
“What do you mean?”
“Huh?”
“Yes, it IS hot in here”
“There is no right to left”
“Wait, I’ll lay on the floor and look up”
“Why?”
“Then I can see which way it’s going”
“If that fan was turning correctly, it wouldn’t be so hot”
“Wow, this rug is filthy”
“How will being down there make a difference?”
“Because it will”
“Why?”
“Because it will be a different view”
“Why?”
“BECAUSE!”
“Looks like a circular motion to me”
“Looks like lots of dog hair to me”
“Hmmm, pretend the fan’s a clock”
“Did you install that thing yourself?”
“I’lll be the clock…twelve is here, 3 is here, 6 is my nose, and 9 is my eyebrow”
“The fan’s the second hand”
“No, I had someone else do it”
“That’s not right”
“Huh?”
“The 6 can’t be your nose”
“Why didn’t you install it yourself?”
“Yeah, stand east/west instead of north/south”
“I didn’t want to break my neck, that’s why”
“Could someone vacuum this dog hair?”
“Huh?”
“Boy, I almost broke my neck putting up track lighting”
“Face the kitchen, stick out your tongue, and point your finger at the garage”
“Why?”
“Because if you face the living room, burp real loud, and stick your toe in a light socket, you’ll blow a brain cell”
“Yeah, but at least I’d be facing the right way”
“Good point”
“So which direction is best?”
“For the fan?”
“No, for me”
“I could use some track lighting”
“Huh?”
“I’m the clock!”
“Who’s the fan?”
“I need a drink”
“Wow, I’m confused”
“What do you need track lighting for?”
“So I could actually SEE this @$%&* fan!”
“I don’t get it, which way do I face again?”
“Well, if you’re facing south and your eyebrow is 9, then north/east would be your belly button, 3 would be your pinky toe, 6 is your elbow, then even if the train leaves the station with 47 passengers, drops off 23 in Omaha, picks up 12 in Lodi, then we still won’t know the color of the postman’s belt buckle”
“Huh?”
“Hey, is that fan going the right way?”
http://www.onthehouse.com/tips/20020219
And if you think I just made that up, you’d be extraordinarily wrong. I couldn’t MAKE up dialogue like that. Maybe it was all the fabulous cuisine we consumed beforehand that saturated our brains, and turned us into babbly psycho-freaks. Perhaps the stuffed pork chops, garlic smashed spuds, and crunchy spinach casserole (no, I didn’t have any) were just too much for our digestive system, and it all churned up and completely destroyed our thought process. In any event, the chef outdid herself again, and Cinderella, the parental unit, and myself chowed down and generally pigged out until the gravy was gone, and the wine bottles were empty. And if you think we made a dent in either of Margaret’s well-stocked refrigerators, then you’d be wrong about that too. AMAZINGLY wrong.
A gourmet who thinks of calories is like a tart who looks at her watch. ~James Beard
Because at the 6019 Club, MORE is always better. MORE is a beautiful thing. http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/madonna/more.html Why have 5 jars of pickles when you can have 12? Why NOT take advantage of that big ketchup sale? Why WOULDN’T you purchase that 3rd container of sour cream? Hey, IT’S ON SALE!!!! Hmm, I already have 47 packages of frozen peas, but they’re so cheap…and I have enough ribs to feed the state of Texas, but these are so inexpensive…now where’s that canned veggie aisle, my stewed tomato supply is down to 9 gallon-size tins. Okay, I know what you’re thinking. But Wendy, stop winjing – you and Cinderella benefit from this gastrointestinal over expenditure. This is true; we normally take home about 8 or 9 bowls of Tupperware, with enough leftovers to feed the population of Salt Lake City for a week. Believe me, I’m not complaining, I’m just stating the fact; Margaret’s fridge should be listed on one of the Seven Wonders of the World list. http://wonderclub.com/AllWorldWonders.html
Anybody who believes that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach flunked geography. ~Robert Byrne
And I haven’t EVEN mentioned the vegetable bins. Ah yes, the vegetable bins…if I could write a sonnet. Actually, I COULD write a sonnet, a column, a short story, a novella, a frickin’ 97 chapter book, for that matter. Oh, the 7 types of lettuce, 14 varieties of tomatoes, the crispy celery, onions, shallots, red, green, orange, and yellow peppers, cucumbers, mushrooms, carrots, and broccoli…all in various and sundry states of decomposition. There are the brand-new, just-purchased, fresh, full-of-promise vegetables, and the partially used, halfway chopped, still-good-for-another-round veggies; and then there are the dreaded squishy, slimy moldy, ewww-I’m-not–touchin’-that, strange-smelling-juice-at-the-bottom-of-the bag pieces of what USED to be something tasty and healthy. Bleah. So if it’s salad you’re looking for, I suggest asking Margaret the exact date of when she last went shopping. You may want to do some serious calculations before you accept her invitation to dinner. We love ya lady!
Great eaters and great sleepers are incapable of anything else that is great. ~Henry IV of France
(yes, that would be me)