Everything I Like Causes Cancer

Another new reader keeps the first-rate questions coming today. Everyone meet Ben, shopkeeper of TGIF Hounds, a website dedicated to basset hounds and celebrating the end of the week with a cold beer. Hi, Ben! Beer men are always welcome in these parts of the Internets.

What is the most embarrassing moment you can recall that you are proud of?

The Mitsubishi Spyder I bought in 1999 was the first car I owned that I really super-duper wanted bad and I was excited to show it to my grandpa, my favorite person in all the world and a talented auto mechanic. There wasn’t anything he didn’t know about cars. I bought the car in September and by Thanksgiving I was dying for him to see it.

As soon as my mom and I finished cleaning up lunch Grandpa and I headed out for a ride, with him driving. I was showing off its cool features like the automatic windows and CD player and electric top. I knew I’d never get a resounding endorsement because the car wasn't American, so I was eager to elicit any nod of approval I could get. I decided safety features would impress him most so I directed his attention to the button on the dash printed with a snowflake. I proudly explained that it was a switch for special snow tires that I could activate in icy conditions.

::blink::

Yeah, I said it, but the worst part was that I believed it. Yes, I really did think that button would activate some sort of special traction. Go ahead, make fun, he did. Between howls of laughter he was finally able to gasp, "No, honey. That's the air conditioner." The mortification was worth making a memory of us laughing so hard together that we cried.



I really miss my grandpa. He and my grandma were very social people. My apple didn't fall very far from their tree at all. They were the King and Queen of what I've dubbed the "natural" happy hour. Natural in that it's organic, it just happens, there's no arranging or planning. I guess people knew that come 5 o'clock on Friday there'd be cold Miller High Life in the fridge and a bottle of Ten High on the counter over at Kenny and Louise's. I recently re-created one of these happy hours in their honor, authentic down to the cheap liquor. All I did was send an email telling people my grandparents' story and informing them that I'd be in my yard at 6 pm the next Friday, drinking, smoking and telling Irish lies, in case they wanted to join me. It was one of my best, and I throw a pretty good party. It was such a hit, I'm going to try to do another in July.




So thanks Ben, thank you for reminding me of that great moment. I laughed and I cried all over again.

This next question comes from Pistols at Dawn, the world's most acerbic cynic with a gift for turning a phrase. If you aren't reading him, you should be. Pistols wants to know,

I just ask all women the same question: if an unattractive man wanted to trick you and others like you into sleeping with him, what would work?

Date rape drugs seem to have high success rates.

So there you have it, folks, I finally wrote the post about my grandpa and date rape drugs. I knew this day would come. I'm so ashamed. Hold me until tomorrow when I list the reasons why McGone is my favorite Blogroll member. We might even put the topic of my unders to rest if there's time.