I sat in front of my blog.
I stood up.
I marched into the living room.
“I have nothing to say on my blog.”
(Gary grunts.)
“Gary.”
“What?”
“Do something stupid.”
“Maybe later.”
I walk back to the computer.
I return to the living room.
“Gary.”
“What?”
“So, how are your parents?”
Still nothing. I am going to have to turn to self-mockery.
A Tale of My Own Stupidity
About 15 years ago, Mom, “Aunt” Nancy and I had tickets to see Michael Feldmann and his radio show Whad’ya Know on NPR. (Aunt Nancy, like Aunt Carleen, holds honorary Aunthood.) Carleen wasn’t going, but she did mention casually, “Oh, did you know that Michael Feldmann is disabled? He’s in a wheelchair.”
And you know, in the weeks leading up to the live event, the show became a lot funnier once I knew he was in a wheelchair. He’d make remarks about how hard it was to get to the back of the theater and the audience would scream with laughter. And now I did too, now that I was in on the joke. Someone suggested Mr. Feldmann couldn’t dance. “Why would you think I can’t dance?” he asked testily, and the audience roared. Hysterical! When I found that a co-worker was going to the show, I asked if he knew the Big Inside Joke. No? Oh, he was in for a treat then. I didn’t want to spoil it.
So the big day came, and Nancy, Mom and I were lined up in the audience, and some stagehand walked out on stage and everyone applauded. Then he spoke, and we realized, sickeningly, it was the host of the show, Michael Feldmann.
“He’s been healed! It’s a miracle!” Nancy bellowed.
“I am going to kill Carleen,” Mom breathed.
“Whad’ya know?” Michael Feldman asked.
“Not much, you?” we all responded, and I meant it. Especially when I found my co-worker during the musical interlude and explained there had been a miscommunication and to ignore everything I had ever said.
After the show, Mom didn’t break stride between the garage and the telephone.
“Carleen. We just went to the radio show. Just precisely what gave you the idea that man was in a wheelchair?”
Turns out there was an article on the show, and by an amazing coincidence, on that exact same page of the paper, there was a photo! Of A MAN! In a wheelchair! Proof! Definitive proof! What more do you need? Captions? Words? Why, when you can make gross assumptions?
Afterward, we wondered why we had been duped by Aunt Carleen. Mom said, “Well, it’s the way she says everything. She announced that man was disabled as if she’d spoken with his doctor himself.” And it is true, Carleen didn’t speak as much as issue a series of decrees and proclamations.
I never listen to Whad’ya Know now. I hate that show.
7 responses to “In Which My Entire Family Is Classically Stupid”
Well, at least you have a great story.
Heh
Wow, now if that’s not one of the most ridiculous stories I’ve ever read, knock me over with a feather. Who cares about some radio show? You really are running out of material aren’t you Programmer Queen? While I do find your blog to be sometimes boring, silly, and profane, I do wish to comment on the tea party entry (even though this is not the tea party entry-I’ve been away and had to catch up). It was one of your best blogs to date. The children are truly adorable! I do have a heart, I just choose not to waste it on you. Did I see a set of twins? Doubly adorable! The very last pic is the best. I can only assume something as cute as that is not related to you.Miss me?PS-did you wear your pajamas for your guests?
wow, your troll is almost as fantastic (and by fantastic, i mean mentally disabled) as mine is!
The troll said he/she has been away. Perhaps at a mental health facility. I note a different tone to the troll. It seems to have softened. Not the troll I know.
Dear Queen-wanna-be:I am fantastic. You however, are not. I see nothing has changed. You still think you are funny and people acutally like you and enjoy reading your silly blog entries. You’ve proven over and over again in this blog that underneath your superficial I’m-a-likeable-person facade that you really are selfish, unstable, fat and disgusting. You enjoy mentally killing whole families of people, you psycho-nutjob and then have the audacity to suggest I belong in a mental facility. You can’t seem to get a handle on anything in your life. You don’t wash your clothes (still shivering over the pajamas shocker), don’t take showers and don’t clean your house. Addicts and drunks live like you. Perhaps one of these days you’ll really come clean and admit to your faithful readers your drug of choice. In the meantime, you’ll continue to be an out-of-control-whacked-out-programmer-wanna-be who is selfish, tacky, profane, borish, and has bad hair. You spend a lot of time putting together daily entries for your ridiculous blog because you think people care about what is going on in your life and want to actually have daily updates and care about what you think or feel about stupid things. How much more egotistical can you get? Oh wait-I know – enough to keep posting. You think you have adoring fans when really these people are just so aghast at your disgusting-ness, they read your blog in shocked facsination like people observing a car accident. I can’t believe anyone, including myself, spends any time at all reading the garbage you spew. I’m embarrassed I have started reading this blog again. Gah! I shan’t spend another minute reading the vomit in this blog.
Troll- Shan’t? Are we Jane Austen now?