Monday, August 17, 2009

What's That In The Air?

It's [sniff sniff] The Smell Of Summer Slacking

It's deep summer and we are marinated in the gravy of laziness, adrift in a sea of chores ignored, projects abandoned and rental movies unreturned (late fees pending).

Who am I to jam a broom handle in the spokes of Mother Nature's ten-speed?

No, the season of slack must be observed.

And so, in honor of the Great Machine and its dictates, I hereby phone in this post with minimal effort and share with you a standup set that I performed a while back at The Hollywood Improv.

I completely understand if you're too lazy to hit the play button.

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Cold 100

No, It's Not A Siberian Bike Race

I was in the checkout line at my local Albertson's a little while ago when a customer leaned over to the checker (who happened to be a manager) and sheepishly confessed to dropping a jar of pickles on the floor in the deli department.

"No problem," said the manager and the customer went on her way.

A few moments later, when the box boy arrived and began bagging my groceries (Wait, are they still called box boys? Did I just totally date myself by busting out a relic of a term like davenport? Should I retire my spats?), here's what the manager said to him:

"Hey, Skeeter, we've got a cold 100 in the deli."

I froze in mid-ATM-card swipe, electrified by the insider lingo to which I was privy.

"A cold 100."

Stealing a glance at Mr. Flinscheinderglen and his faithful sidekick Skeeter, I punched in my ATM PIN and silently mouthed my new phrase. Cold 100. Man, it felt good.

As Skeeter high-tailed it toward the back of the store in his fluorescent orange vest to do battle with the pickle juice, a question leaped to mind:

What [gulp] was a Hot 100?

A Buffalo-wings slick near the rotisserie case?
A customer altercation by the Tabasco pyramid?
Flaming lava?

I love lingo.

I always have. I have the enduring suspicion that in a former life I was either a Navy Seal or a long-haul trucker. Now, those guys have some lingo.

For instance, we (okay, I) get pulled over by smokeys, not police officers. And when we go on a road trip, we don't eat at a restaurant [scoff] we stop at the choke-and-puke.

I happen to think every occupation can benefit from a generous smattering of lingo, including parenting, if only because lingo makes everything, well, cooler.

Coming up short on parenting lingo at your house?
No problem! Use some of ours!

Suggested Parenting Lingo

Charlie Manson - A playdate that goes horribly awry, usually ending in real property loss if not bloodshed. Example:

Jon Bon Jovi: What's with all the Tylenol? And why is the sofa smoldering?
Anna: Today's playdate was a total Charlie Manson. Never again!

SB - Short for "Sonic Boom." Using sound waves to quell escalating sibling arguments. Also known as turning up the volume on a Molly Hatchet song in the car so loud that the arguing children have no choice but to abandon their bickering.

Booger Ranch - preschool and/or daycare facility. Example: As soon as I drop Sigfried and Roy, Jr. off at the booger ranch, I'll do the grocery shopping.

Hovercraft - changing a diaper in a filthy public restroom while preventing the child from coming in contact with a single surface. Example: "Ugh, that gas station bathroom was so funky, I had to execute a hovercraft."

Banana - delicious and nutritious natural snack that arrives in an ingenious yellow zippered tube. Sold in bunches. (Some lingo is pretty straightforward.)

Eraser - A wipee. Example: "Young Tarquin has dribbled on his onesie. Pass me an eraser so I can clean him up, will you?"

Of course, sometimes it works the other way and I learn lingo from my children. Yesterday, I overheard Gomez as he took a break from playing Legos with Morticia.

"I'll be right back," he said, making haste in the direction of the bathroom. "I have to drop the kids off at the pool."

Perhaps I should check on that one, just to make sure it means what I think it does.

Thank you to the folks at YouSayToo for naming us a Top Blog!

Monday, August 3, 2009

No More Mrs. Nice Guy.

That's Right, You Heard Me.

(Is the black too much? I knew I should have gone with the lavender.)