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Dennis and I have been buddies since tenth grade. I won’t tell you how many decades our relationship has spanned, but long enough to finish college, graduate school, marry (Dennis claims he has been happily married and divorced numerous times), enter the world-of-work, and ride off into the sunset. About a year ago, he asked me to write his eulogy, but here’s the kicker: he requires I be alive to deliver it—but not at his regular church funeral service. See he’s decided to go out in style; therefore, he will posthumously host his own raucous send-off at Kissner’s, a bar in our hometown. Okay, so he said he wants the material to be funny. I can do that. I sent him a rough draft of an idea, and all I got back was, “I don’t know if I want my family to know those things.” The problem is the “censored” material; contains a lot of funny stuff. What to do? Maybe I’ll just come up with some kind of comedy act based on shared moments. I think I know where to start, to wit: You know how when you’re close to someone—family member or friend—and pick up on certain idiosyncrasies of that person? Perhaps traits of which he/she is unaware? Here are three of Dennis’s: 1) When you give him some new information about a subject in which he is curious he gives you this sideways, one-eyed, skeptical look and blurts out, “Who said?” The inference is that you couldn’t possibly know what you’re talking about so you’d better have a source (acceptable to him) to back up your statement. 2) If the information you impart is a response to a question he has asked, you receive the same look as before accompanied by a raised finger and, “Are you sure?” 3) How about when you make a statement about your worldview or the geometry of the universe, but is not a subject about which he is curious? Then you receive a dismissive look and, “That doesn’t mean anything to me!” Anyhooo, I think I can build something from that. I’ll get back to you later. Keeping this in mind, I’m going to do something now in music they call changing keys. What’s more fun (and entertaining) than wife-baiting? Where I’m going is into the interpersonal relationship one develops with a spouse or friend of long standing. You know of what I speak; it’s the type of familiarity where you totally anticipate your partner’s every move. You often finish each others’ sentences—that kind of thing. When one has a loving, supportive, free-flowing, mellow relationship I believe mutual anticipation is heightened. On the other hand, one also figures out the hot-buttons of his/her partner that can be triggered at will to exact a Pavlov response. This is where the fun (for me at least) comes into play. To illustrate, I’m recalling a small village in Greece where a few decades ago some roué passed through and knocked-up a majority of the women—wives, daughters, girlfriends; the guy must’ve been a terrific salesman with an excellent line of malarkey, not to mention stamina. The townspeople never got over that experience, and seethe with fisticuffs-type anger at the mention of his name. Today, a delightful caper is to drive through the village, making sure you have an unrestricted path to the city limits; and with laughing enthusiasm, loudly shout the dude’s name out the window and floor it. In a flash, curses, sticks, bottles, and rocks are hurled at you from all directions. You’d think after all these years they’d get over it. And so it is with my wife, Kay. I’ve been pulling the same jokes on her for years, and she never seems hip to what I’m doing. Here are a few examples that I recycle at least weekly: 1) I tell her I’m going to grow a beard to play a part as a magi in a Christmas pageant; 2) I casually mention that I’m going to smuggle a bourbon-filled flask into a chick flick she wants me to attend; 3) I falsely accuse her of breaking wind; 4) I announce while showering that I don’t need to use soap. She always reacts like the Greek villagers mentioned above—every time! Uh-oh, here she comes. I’ll report the conversation (heh-heh)… Meaningful look. “We need to paint the deck,” she says. (Author’s Note: “We” always means yers truly.) I give her a skeptical half-sneer. “Who says?!” “I do!” She’s taking the bait—again. I give her the old one-eye. “Are you sure?!” Now she’s getting annoyed. “Yes! I was just out there, and the wood needs treated!” One more time just for the sake of irritation... “Are you sure?!” “I told you I just checked! You never listen to me! Besides, when it was built, the guy said to water-treat it every two years.” “Oh, yeah? What does he know?” I’m having a hard time keeping a straight face. Exasperation. “He’s a professional!” “That doesn’t mean anything to me,” I sniff with nose in the air. Her face is red with veins popping out. I decide to call-off-the-jam, and admit I’m just pulling a “Dennis” on her. “Oh,” she says quietly. “Well, I don’t think it’s funny.” An hour later we’re having lunch at an outdoor café. Kay mentions that some of her tennis partners are getting together for a luncheon in a week. “That doesn’t mean anything to me,” I say off-handedly. And aawwaayy we go… Sometime later I mention to Kay that May 5 happens to be Dennis’s birthday, she replies, “That reminds me, we need to pick a good Mexican restaurant to celebrate Cinco de Mayo.” Ha-ha, silly girl. “Actually Cinco de Mayo is not a Mexican holiday. Their independence day is September 16. May 5 just happens to be the anniversary of the Battle of Puebla when the Mexicans defeated a French force of Napoleon III.” I give her a more-superior-than-thou self-satisfied smirk. She gives me a blank look, and a dismissive wave of her hand. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.” As she walks away I swear detect a kind of smile. WAIT A MINUTE…??? By Gene Myers a kinder, gentler smart-aleck.
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eulogy, traits, relationship, jokes,
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