Garden Party

I found my way home yesterday for the second consecutive time. My memory has improved ever since I began taking ice cream supplements. I knocked on wood to insure that my good luck would hold and asked my wife Mollie to see who was knocking at the door. Nobody was there and she had a long conversation with him. She would not tell me what they talked about because she thinks I cannot keep a secret. Which is ridiculous. The other people I tell are the ones who cannot keep their mouths shut. Doctors are the worst. Every time I confide in them, they send me to specialists who prescribe medicine with horrible side effects. Pretty soon nurse practitioners, pharmacists, and the FedEx guy all know my most embarrassing secrets.

One secret item not found on my resume is a magna cum laude degree I earned from the College of Big Meddling and Criticizing. Big MAC taught me that Nature abhors a vacuum. When I am doing the talking, I am invariably boring people. But if I restrain myself, some other boring person fills the vacuum. That does not mean that I hang with uninteresting people. At a garden party where Stephen Hawking was explaining Einstein’s E=MC squared formula, my eyes glazed over. I interjected that I was working on E=MC cubed but everyone yawned. I gravitated toward the bar and told Jerry Seinfeld that Jane Fonda had a suppository in her left ear. He quickly excused himself to go tell her where her missing hearing aid was.

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