Crazy Wisdomania!!!

My mother is the captain of all captains in her tennis league…The Tennis Admiral, as she calls herself. This means, at the end of the season, all the team captains report their results to my mom, and she puts her retired accountant skills to work, tallying up all of the scores. This time of year, sometime in the middle second financial quarter, my mother becomes inundated with phone calls from the tennis wives of South Jersey. Tonight, trying to get through to my parent’s house was like trying to vote for my favorite American Idol…not that I’ve ever dialed 1 866 436…

“Women!” My mother says after I finally get my hello. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks, referencing my homosexual preference.

“Well Mom, if this doesn’t prove to you that it’s not a choice, I don’t know what possibly could.”

“These women are crazy!” She says.

“They all are, Mom. We all are. It’s just a matter of finding the one who’s the right kind of crazy for me.”

“Well, as your father would say: ‘There’s an ass for every seat.’”

My father works in the car business, and after finding a buyer for every hideous colored, impossibly packaged automobile that has crossed his path, he has convinced himself of this truth, and neatly packaged it in yet another bundle of wisdom. Brace yourself, the rest of this dialogue is what I would consider “Neczypor Wisdomania.”

“Right Mommy, the only problem is, more often than not, I find I am not the seat.”

“Well, honey, you just keep your head down and your hopes up. Eventually the right person will come along. But again, as your father would say: ‘The masses are asses.’”

“Thanks Mom, I’ll keep that in mind. But I think Daddy’s referring to what he calls ‘The Great Unwashed.’ You know it might be time for him to retire, I haven’t heard him say a positive thing about work in forever.”

“I think it’s just the people that are wearing him down, y’know when you’re open to the public, that’s who comes in. But your father likes to work, and he doesn’t do anything half-assed. We’re all the same in this family, in for a penny, in for a pound. We go big or go home.”

“I don’t think I feel that way about work any more, I’m ready to go home. If it weren’t for that whole paycheck thing, I’d retire tomorrow. I wish I could just get lucky, have someone discover my brilliant blogging abilities and hire me to write full-time. Although this week, I can’t seem to find anything to write about.”

“You’ve got writer’s blog…” She laughs at her own joke.

“Yeah. Precisely. Thanks Mom.”

“Well, you know what I always say, the harder I work, the luckier I get.”

“I know, but the office is really wearing me down. I just feel like every day, I lose a little bit more joy from my life. Eventually, I’ll be like some old French-fry, cold and wimpy, hanging out under those fluorescent lights of the office cafeteria, rotting…”

“Well, sweetheart, your ability to succeed in life is pretty much based on your ability to eat shit and pretend to like it. So you better perk up.”

“I know, I know, I’m just exhausted. I’m working close to 80 hour weeks, and doing stand-up and trying to finish writing my third book. I just wish someone would rep the first two so I could have some money in the bank, rather than worrying about staying out of debt.”

“Honey, if you can’t save pennies, you’ll never be able to save millions—it’s only a matter of zeros. And you can always spend more than you make, it’s up to you to say where the buck stops. You know what I’m saying?”

“Yes. I do. Nice pun. I just wish I had achieved a more substantial level of success already. I’m impatient for it.”

“Annie Beth, there are levels and there are LEVELS. Compared to many people, you have achieved a certain level of success.”

“Yes, but those people don’t live in Manhattan. And I planned on being famous by now.”

“Well, sometimes we plan, and God laughs.”

“Yeah, he’s hilarious. Speaking of hilarious old white men, how’s Pop-pop.”

“Oh, you know, hangin out in God’s waiting room. He told me today, he’s only buying quarts of milk from now on. He figures, he won’t be around much longer. He won’t buy green bananas either.”

“As long as his spirits are up.”

“You know, a week ago, I wouldn’t have given you a nickel for him. He didn’t seem like he was interested in hanging around, but this week, he’s back to him old self, doing the regular mall-walks, making fun of people as usual.”

“Well that’s something.” I say.

“Oh, I know, but he smells like death, Annie. Seriously, the odor that man emits would bring a moose to its knees.”

“Well isn’t that sweet…”

“Oh please, that’s nothing. Yesterday, at the restaurant, he turned to me and said, ‘This waitress would have to sneak up on a glass of milk!’ What do you think of that?”

“I don’t quite know what to make of that, Mom. What does that even mean?”

“It means he thought she was unattractive—to put it kindly. And then he followed it with ‘She’s got a face that would make a train take a dirt road!’ Can you imagine? Right there in the TGI Fridays! Awful, just awful.”

“Why did you guys take him out? Couldn’t you just have had lunch at home?”

“Oh please, Annie, it’s six-of-one, half-a-dozen of the other. As long as we take him out, he’s got other people to pick on. At home, all he does is poke fun at us. But I did have a meal prepared at home, just in case the restaurant thing didn’t work out. Because, y’know, I’m a belt and suspenders kind of lady.”

“Are you trying to say you’re a lesbian?”

“No, silly, it means I’m always prepared, like if you were wearing really big pants and you didn’t think the suspenders were enough to hold them up, so you’d wear a belt as well…Come on, sweetheart, use your head.”

“But why would you, as an allegedly straight woman, be wearing such baggy pants?”

She sighs with frustration as she realizes I’m making fun. “Didn’t I just tell you I thought women were crazy?”

“Yes ma’am. And you are right. They absolutely are.”