Tag: Humor

I’m An English Major

This week, I had another run-in with techies.  Honestly, I’m getting a little sick and tired of their superior attitude.  Look, you know-it-all nerds, I’m an English Major and I can do pompous ass better than you ever thought of.  (Yeah, that’s a preposition at the end of a sentence; what are you going to do about it?)  Just to set the record straight — English Majors were geeks, nerds and tweebs centuries before techies were ever even thought of, so don’t get all high and mighty with me.  And just remember, back in high school, while you were playing Space Invaders and dreaming about cheerleaders, I was in the only guy in the Poetry Club. (You do the math!)

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9 Out Of 10 Dentists…

english3When the Voice-over man on the television advertisement says, “Nine out of ten dentists recommend Brand X,” do you ever wonder what the other guy recommends?  Do you stop for a minute and think maybe that extra guy isn’t just some dumb bugger who should never have made it out of dental school?  Maybe he’s an insightful maverick, years ahead of his time.  Maybe, because of his unconventional views, he’s been losing high-end patients and is now contemplating a move to Africa where dentistry is still practised for the love of the smile.  It’s possible, you know.  In fact, in a hundred years, the Nobel Academy might just award that 10th guy the Prize for Medicine (posthumously) when scientific advances prove he was right, all along.  Maybe they’ll even name streets and schools after him for his courage in remaining true to his oral health principles in the face of universal scorn.  That can happen, also.  Or maybe it won’t go that way.  Maybe he’ll die, poor and alone, in a South African slum-hut village, consumed by Umqombothi* and despair, his unique knowledge unaccepted and lost to humanity for all time.

Or it might just be a gender thing.  That 10th dentist could be a woman, who, as a natural caregiver went into dentistry out of a genuine love for people and their hygiene.  Maybe in dental school she found she had to be that much better than her male colleagues, so now, as a professional, she’s done more research on the subject.  Perhaps she found some significant flaws in the formula for Brand X but was under enormous pressure not to publish her findings.  However, when she was asked to make a recommendation, she felt compelled to tell the truth.  Possibly this is putting a lot of stress on her home life, where her husband, an oral surgeon she met in university, is unsupportive, and she’s having an affair with the podiatrist across the hall.  It could all end in a nasty divorce, and it might take her years to get her life back together when she finally kicks the podiatrist out and returns to her small hometown to assume her father’s family practice.  It’s very possible.

Of course, it could all be a corporate conspiracy.  The original nine dentists could have been specially selected for their moral english1turpitude.  They could have been taken on an all-expenses-paid weekend to the San Marcos Golf Resort in Chandler, Arizona.  Once there, they might have been schmoozed with fast cars, expensive liquor and beautiful women.  They could have played golf all day and partied all night.  Then, on Sunday, they could have been told that the next junket was deep-sea fishing off the coast of Puerto Vallarta available only to those dentists who recommended Brand X.  It would have been an easy choice for weak men.  Perhaps, though, in a complete surprise, dentist # 4 may have fallen in love with one of the hookers.  He might say he’s going to blow the whistle on the whole tawdry scam.  Threatened with exposure, the corporate lackeys might have kidnapped the couple, taken them out into the desert and left them for dead.  However, after days of enduring heat and thirst, the lovers could have reached the border.  They could have smuggled themselves across and are now hiding out in an unnamed Mexican village, where they’ve set up a clandestine, cash-only dental practice.  Meanwhile, in corporate America, the suits at Brand X might have found another dentist and think they’re safe from exposure.  Unfortunately for them, dentist #4 might have just discovered a young girl who, even though she’s been brushing regularly with Brand X, has developed a cavity….

Do you ever think of these things when the toothpaste commercials come on TV?  You don’t?  You should.  It’s fun.

*South African beer

Relationships are Difficult

tv ad4The other day I had another argument with my television set.  We are no longer speaking, it and I.  I think it’s better if we stay away from each other for a while rather than say or do things we might regret later.  I’m not one to badmouth things behind their backs; if I have anything to say, I’ll say it right to the screen.  However, my TV is as petulant as a Somali warlord and about half as predictable.  Still, every grey cloud has a silver lining, and while my TV and I have been giving each other the cold shoulder I’ve had time to reevaluate our relationship.

I must admit my TV is not totally to blame for our breakup.  It’s apparent we’ve grown apart in recent years.  Sadly, even though it has tried to keep the magic alive, introducing new channels and keeping the picture quality bright and beautiful, I find myself longing for the good old days when it was just the two of us.  We only had basic cable then and a mechanical videotape machine (that flashed 12:00, 12:00, 12:00) but we were young and reckless and it didn’t matter.  These days my TV sets the time by itself – from a satellite.  It doesn’t need me or the Owner’s Manual.  In fact, there is no Owner’s Manual, anymore; everything comes preset.  I remember it, though: the childlike wonder of exploring new features, experimenting with the settings, long afternoons slowly coaxing the perfect contrast and brightness levels; each subtle change responding to my touch.  Once, I switched the default language to Spanish as a prank; in better times, we still laugh about that one.  Then there were those long winter nights when I’d stop off at Blockbuster or Videomatica.  We’d order pizza and spend the evening in the darkness, laughing with Tom Hanks or the Blues Brothers.  One weekend, we just stayed home and watched the entire Star Wars trilogy – twice!  Those were good times, back in the day.

In all honesty, I haven’t been totally faithful to my TV.  I’ve watched movies on my computer and played games on my telephone.  But they were sordid affairs on darkened, domestic flight airlines and city buses.  They didn’t mean anything to me.  I used earphones and never got the full experience.  In fact, they only made me appreciate my 40 inch flat screen — with stereo theatre sound-around — all the more.

I suppose it was just the day-to-day routine that drove me to use other devices.  I can have whatever I want, whenever I want it, but there’s a sameness about it – no spontaneity, no discovery, no trembling anticipation.  Despite all the channels, the HD picture, the iTunes Video on Demand, it always comes back to the same old/same old: know-it-all detective shows and dysfunctional family drama.

In fact, that was what the argument was about in the first place.  I wanted to watch something different for once, but it was already recording two “We’re all Doomed” documentaries and refused to change without killing one of them.  Then I accidently killed them both and recorded a stupid insult sitcom with Charlie Sheen.  So you see, it wasn’t actually her fault, at all.  In fact, she was just doing what she thought I wanted.  At the end of the day, that’s the real problem.  I haven’t kept up with all the changes in her life.  I really don’t know what half her remote buttons do anymore, and I haven’t given her the quality time it takes to find out.  It’s no wonder she thinks I take her for granted.  Yet, there she is, all by herself in the corner, quietly recording Season Three of Downton Abbey just so I don’t miss an episode.  I guess it wouldn’t kill me to go over and see if she wants to take a look at HBO and see if there’s something on.  Besides, I’m sure she wouldn’t want me to miss the NFL playoffs this weekend.

But I don’t think it’s a good time to say anything about the “Words with Friends” app I’ve got on my telephone.