Monday, February 8, 2010

MVPs and Jerry Springer on Location

Your Dad's a Dentist?  Mine's Superbowl MVP
So the Saints have won Superbowl XXDILIVCVICMIVDXI.* And since yours truly scours the planet to give you the quirky parenting angle of every situation, I did see something of interest last night.

Apart from the game itself, did you watch the end-of-game insanity? It's usually hit or miss, with people acting patently stupid, saying things somewhere between pithy and downright narcissistic. Anyway, last night the camera cut to a lengthy shot of Drew Brees. The 31 year old Superbowl MVP was standing there, crying, with his 1 year old son in his arms. They had these huge earphones stuck on the kid, and Drew is just talking to him, and kissing the little guy over and over. It was a moving and private moment captured right inside the most public of events. It was also darn good television, and the producer knew it. I could almost hear them screaming, "Stay on him! Stay on him!"

I realize that there's great satisfaction to be had, more than most know, from sharing your best moments with family. Sharing even with those too young to know what the heck is going on. From Mr. Brees' unique vantage point, it might be really easy to say, "I did this alone. This is for me." But instead he seemed to be simply a young dad showing his baby off at a football game.

On Location: The Jerry Springer Show
Speaking of being alone, Her Majesty and our illustrious Captain blew town for a week, leaving me and FMB to tend Home Port 2.0 by ourselves.

We stayed up very late, drank too much coffee, made perfect cream gravy (for the world's flattest biscuits), and ate hot dogs and ice cream and pork burritos and pizza and all manner of things that H.M. would just be appalled at. And by Saturday, things got, as they do when there are no civilized folk about, a bit strange.

The backstory on this is that we have this plain vanilla neighbor, that we pretty much never see, on the corner lot behind us. That neighbor has a dog. It's a yippy dog. It's the worst yippy dog in the universe. It barks in the loudest, most painful pitch whenever something eventful happens. Like a leaf falling to the ground. Or some granny walks past. I can hear this dog, loud and clear, inside my house with a pillow around my head. I have dreamed about meth junkies losing control of their Winnebago and driving right through its backyard and over its shanty of a dog house. About meteors falling from the sky, putting a headstone of molten nickel over its final (silent) resting place. Complete strangers stop me in my front yard to say, "I'll sure bet you're sick of that stupid dog behind you." I have despised this dog for two long years.

And Saturday night it was finally too much. I strode out of my backdoor bellowing, "SHUT YOUR DOG UP! SHUT IT UP! THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD HATES THAT DOG! EVERYBODY'S SICK OF IT! SHUT IT UP, NOW!" I think I was just trying to make myself feel better. And y'know, I thought everyone of course was inside, and if they heard, they'd naturally ignore some kook yelling about a dog.

Oooooooooo, I was wrooooooooong.

Two refugees from Jerry Springer ladies, and I use the term charitably, were actually in their driveway, smoking. When I start screaming at the house, they let fly with the most profane, blue streak of X-rated cussing I have ever been on the receiving end of. I haven't been cussed that severely in a late-nite hockey league brawl.  So, just shocked out of my gourd, I wade on out my back gate in my bare feet looking for trouble. I'm not kidding, here - within 30 seconds, I have a cigarette thrown at me and the 4 foot tall one is on the phone with the Po Po telling the dispatcher that a crazy man is threatening her children.

About now, this guero is rapidly reevaluating his strategy.

Lessee... I'm carrying on heated conversations with two irrational women who want me dead. A Cops: Houston camera crew is probably en route. Solution? Start shaking hands and kissing babies as fast as possible.** I ask for the neighbor, who's name I narrowly manage to remember. Is she here? Yes, she is. She comes over. I reintroduce myself, hey remember I mowed your yard last year, I'm a nice guy, remember. We chit chat about how annoying the dog is, how she didn't even want it but can't get rid of it now. How her brother bred it for her teenage daughter***. How I was wrong to scream at them. I didn't know they were out there, it was dark, I say. I'm really sorry about that and that the dog just got my goat tonight, that's perfectly okay she says, it's been a bad week all around for them too, and she'll shut the dog up and she's sorry for it waking my baby up...

Lots of shaking hands and amends-making later, Mr. Chicken drags his battered pride out of WWE land without so much as a cigarette burn or fake fingernail scratch, clutching only a solemn promise that dog will be shut up at 3am.

So Jackbaby and Majesty came back to rescue me from anarchy and barbarism yesterday afternoon. Thank the LORD.

*For my part, I hope Tony Romo has sand in his board shorts on whatever South American beach he's on this week.
** Thank you, Bill Clinton!
***What kind of fool BREEDS a dog to bark incessantly?  I thought breeding was supposed to accentuate GOOD properties of dogs, not bad ones!  Who is this person?!


Gentry said...

Funniest. Post. EVER!
I seriously couldnt help but chant "Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Jer-ry" as I read on.
Neighbors and their yappy dogs do suck.

Anonymous said...

Wow. That was a big week. And I'm right there with you on the post Super Bowl display.

Jennifer Reinsch said...

I thought I saw you on "Cops".

Cindy Deister said...

Oh, Wow, You made me LAUGH! I'm just like that except it's my dog I'm yelling at and then apologizing my sons, who think the dog is their BFF.
Too funny...

Jennifer said...

I am so with you on that dog one. I totally got caught yelling at my neighbors about their dog over the fence! I was so embarrassed I just went inside and tried to avoid ever seeing them again.

Fortunately, they probably thought it was the pregnancy hormones making me crazy, but it worked and they got it under control!