blansky
09-19-2006, 11:31 AM
So I’m sitting watching BBC America and there’s a knock at the door. I open it up and who is standing there but Andy. It’s an understatement to say I was shocked. After all the unkind things he has written about the US, I’m amazed they let him into the country. But Americans are very forgiving people. Or illiterate. You pick.
He’s taller than he sounds by his posts but I let him in anyway. He immediately begins tells me my house is too big, there are too many lights on and why am I wasting all that water spraying the lawn. I offer him a drink and he asks I got some obscure beer substitute that passes for alcohol in England. I tell him no, all I’ve got are a couple of Coronas left over from the Hockey Tournament and so I put one in the microwave to warm it up for him.
He downs that in about ¼ of a nanosecond and I realize were going to need more beer. So we go out and jump into the Hummer and I start it up. He looks around the interior and starts in about the waste of gas, the waste of metal, the waste of plastic, the waste of leather and how I’m personally responsible for global warming, and away we go.
Now I’m not much of a 4 wheeler. I only bought the damn thing because it’s a status symbol and it pisses off the eco- terrorists. In fact I don’t even know how to put the thing into 4 wheel drive, because the only offroading I do is when I turn off the road into a parking lot. Although going over some of those speed bumps, it’s good to know that if I really needed to I could dig out the manual and read up on it.
So were cruising past Geezer Gardens, which is an old person subdivision across the street from the Safeway supermarket. It’s one of those places where all the houses must be built out of cotton, and got wet. The large houses are medium, the medium are small and the small are garages. But I guess when you reach geezerdom, that’s all you need. Chasing the old lady around the house trying to get a little, could very well be detrimental to the ole ticker if it was perpetrated in a bigger house. Besides by the time you caught her it would just be a catch and release anyway.
Geezer Gardens is also the home of a number of 4 wheeler clubs. Lets face it these people have a lot of spare time on their hands and they buy these things and customize them by jacking them up and putting on big wheels and roll bars and stuff like that. They all wear jackets that state their particular “gang” affiliations and most hang out over at Wankers ‘n Skankers, the bar across the street from Geezer Gardens.
Now I may have forgotten to mention, that these Geezer Gardens 4 wheelers aren’t driving trucks. They’re those 4 wheeled aluminum “walker” things that old people push around so they don’t fall on their faces.
So we stop at the red light ready to make a left turn into Safeways and sure enough there is a rally of 4 wheelers crossing the street in the crosswalk, probably heading over to the Wank ‘n Skank. They’re all shuffling along, pushing the silly things across the street and one would hit one of their little wheels on a pebble and the old guy would go ass- over- tea- kettle onto the pavement. They’d help him up and then another one would do a wheelie and they’d have to help yell medic and somebody would run out of the bar and pour beer down his throat. What a bloody production.
You could look at some of them and just know that their 4 wheeling days were coming to an end. Probably in a few weeks after one rally too many, one or two of them would have to start hanging with the two wheeler crowd, and have the humiliation of having the rear wheels replaced with tennis balls. And no more crossing the road. The greatest generation in a free fall. Reminds me why I joined the NRA and bought a gun with that one bullet in it.
So Andy and I are sitting there arguing about just about everything and somebody beeps their horn at me. Seeing that the light had changed and one of those silly little hybrid cars was behind me getting all pissy, I stuck the Hummer in reverse and backed up over the stupid thing. The cardboard hardly made a crunch and corn chowder and battery acid starts spraying all over the road. And to think that some people say that Hummers aren’t necessary. I think I’ve successfully put an end to that rumor.
So we pick up a bunch of beer and head back to the house, while Andy continues on about what a mess the world is, how the US caused it all, how most of it was probably my fault and on and on. So we sitting out on the deck and gazing at the fish swimming around in the pond. Funny thing is, a transformation starts to occur.
Andy is on his 9th beer by now and he’s slowly starting to agree with me on things. You see Andy has this unique grasp of history, that he uses to wrap around his opinions, which have marinated in a socialistic rose colored view of the world for so long that he’s convinced he has all the answers to the questions that have yet to be raised. And now he’s starting to agree with me. Seeing a real turn for the better, I offer him a few more beers, and pretty soon we’re like long lost buddies, a beer or two later, like brothers, and it’s starting to cause me some concern. Because it seems that maybe were heading dangerously close to a romantic interlude here. He’s got his arm around me, lips real close and I got the feeling that he’s thinking of asking me if I want to slip into something a little more comfortable.
Needing a little breathing room, I told him I thought I heard the phone, and rush back into the house. Now I had two choices, slip in a nice negligee, or try to fight him off. I decided to fight him off, but by the time I got back outside he had cooled down a bit and started asking about how much one of them Hummers cost. Feeling relieved, I told him how much. Instead of berating me for spending that much money, when I could have sent it to Africa or somewhere, he surprised me by asking if he could take it for a spin. I enthusiastically say, sure. Whew.
So we climb in and he proceeds to drive down the wrong side of the road. Typical Brit. Not that it’s any big deal because that’s why you buy one of these things. People just learn to get out of the way. In fact, the main reason I bought it is because when I drive around drunk, I won’t run into anybody. So were slamming brewskis and driving down the wine country backroads and Andy just up and passes out. One minute he’s drooling all over the steering wheel and the next minute bam, out cold.
So I climb out and push his fat ass over to the passenger seat and drive back home. I have a bed out in the gazebo I use for reading/napping in the afternoons, after a long morning of reading the paper, and I drag him over and dump him. Then I go back in, click on the Tivo and finish with BBC America.
Next morning when I get up Andy is up and is his same old cantankerous self, and it’s all my fault. I offer him breakfast but he says he has a plane to catch and leaves the house. He climbs into his tin Euro-pisspot rental and heads down the driveway. Then he does it. It happened in the blink of an eye and it was pretty subtle, but I caught him.
He snuck a peek at the Hummer, as he turned towards the highway.
Andy, Andy, Andy.
Michael
He’s taller than he sounds by his posts but I let him in anyway. He immediately begins tells me my house is too big, there are too many lights on and why am I wasting all that water spraying the lawn. I offer him a drink and he asks I got some obscure beer substitute that passes for alcohol in England. I tell him no, all I’ve got are a couple of Coronas left over from the Hockey Tournament and so I put one in the microwave to warm it up for him.
He downs that in about ¼ of a nanosecond and I realize were going to need more beer. So we go out and jump into the Hummer and I start it up. He looks around the interior and starts in about the waste of gas, the waste of metal, the waste of plastic, the waste of leather and how I’m personally responsible for global warming, and away we go.
Now I’m not much of a 4 wheeler. I only bought the damn thing because it’s a status symbol and it pisses off the eco- terrorists. In fact I don’t even know how to put the thing into 4 wheel drive, because the only offroading I do is when I turn off the road into a parking lot. Although going over some of those speed bumps, it’s good to know that if I really needed to I could dig out the manual and read up on it.
So were cruising past Geezer Gardens, which is an old person subdivision across the street from the Safeway supermarket. It’s one of those places where all the houses must be built out of cotton, and got wet. The large houses are medium, the medium are small and the small are garages. But I guess when you reach geezerdom, that’s all you need. Chasing the old lady around the house trying to get a little, could very well be detrimental to the ole ticker if it was perpetrated in a bigger house. Besides by the time you caught her it would just be a catch and release anyway.
Geezer Gardens is also the home of a number of 4 wheeler clubs. Lets face it these people have a lot of spare time on their hands and they buy these things and customize them by jacking them up and putting on big wheels and roll bars and stuff like that. They all wear jackets that state their particular “gang” affiliations and most hang out over at Wankers ‘n Skankers, the bar across the street from Geezer Gardens.
Now I may have forgotten to mention, that these Geezer Gardens 4 wheelers aren’t driving trucks. They’re those 4 wheeled aluminum “walker” things that old people push around so they don’t fall on their faces.
So we stop at the red light ready to make a left turn into Safeways and sure enough there is a rally of 4 wheelers crossing the street in the crosswalk, probably heading over to the Wank ‘n Skank. They’re all shuffling along, pushing the silly things across the street and one would hit one of their little wheels on a pebble and the old guy would go ass- over- tea- kettle onto the pavement. They’d help him up and then another one would do a wheelie and they’d have to help yell medic and somebody would run out of the bar and pour beer down his throat. What a bloody production.
You could look at some of them and just know that their 4 wheeling days were coming to an end. Probably in a few weeks after one rally too many, one or two of them would have to start hanging with the two wheeler crowd, and have the humiliation of having the rear wheels replaced with tennis balls. And no more crossing the road. The greatest generation in a free fall. Reminds me why I joined the NRA and bought a gun with that one bullet in it.
So Andy and I are sitting there arguing about just about everything and somebody beeps their horn at me. Seeing that the light had changed and one of those silly little hybrid cars was behind me getting all pissy, I stuck the Hummer in reverse and backed up over the stupid thing. The cardboard hardly made a crunch and corn chowder and battery acid starts spraying all over the road. And to think that some people say that Hummers aren’t necessary. I think I’ve successfully put an end to that rumor.
So we pick up a bunch of beer and head back to the house, while Andy continues on about what a mess the world is, how the US caused it all, how most of it was probably my fault and on and on. So we sitting out on the deck and gazing at the fish swimming around in the pond. Funny thing is, a transformation starts to occur.
Andy is on his 9th beer by now and he’s slowly starting to agree with me on things. You see Andy has this unique grasp of history, that he uses to wrap around his opinions, which have marinated in a socialistic rose colored view of the world for so long that he’s convinced he has all the answers to the questions that have yet to be raised. And now he’s starting to agree with me. Seeing a real turn for the better, I offer him a few more beers, and pretty soon we’re like long lost buddies, a beer or two later, like brothers, and it’s starting to cause me some concern. Because it seems that maybe were heading dangerously close to a romantic interlude here. He’s got his arm around me, lips real close and I got the feeling that he’s thinking of asking me if I want to slip into something a little more comfortable.
Needing a little breathing room, I told him I thought I heard the phone, and rush back into the house. Now I had two choices, slip in a nice negligee, or try to fight him off. I decided to fight him off, but by the time I got back outside he had cooled down a bit and started asking about how much one of them Hummers cost. Feeling relieved, I told him how much. Instead of berating me for spending that much money, when I could have sent it to Africa or somewhere, he surprised me by asking if he could take it for a spin. I enthusiastically say, sure. Whew.
So we climb in and he proceeds to drive down the wrong side of the road. Typical Brit. Not that it’s any big deal because that’s why you buy one of these things. People just learn to get out of the way. In fact, the main reason I bought it is because when I drive around drunk, I won’t run into anybody. So were slamming brewskis and driving down the wine country backroads and Andy just up and passes out. One minute he’s drooling all over the steering wheel and the next minute bam, out cold.
So I climb out and push his fat ass over to the passenger seat and drive back home. I have a bed out in the gazebo I use for reading/napping in the afternoons, after a long morning of reading the paper, and I drag him over and dump him. Then I go back in, click on the Tivo and finish with BBC America.
Next morning when I get up Andy is up and is his same old cantankerous self, and it’s all my fault. I offer him breakfast but he says he has a plane to catch and leaves the house. He climbs into his tin Euro-pisspot rental and heads down the driveway. Then he does it. It happened in the blink of an eye and it was pretty subtle, but I caught him.
He snuck a peek at the Hummer, as he turned towards the highway.
Andy, Andy, Andy.
Michael