Third Time’s a Spanking: Of Horses and Baggies

Recently I was watching one of those “50 Best (fill in the blank) of All Time” shows. The topic du jour was comedies.

You know how these shows work: the list is done in countdown format. The announcer recaps the movie, then two or three celebrities (or in this case, people who appeared in one or two movies 20 years ago) go on camera and explain why they think the movie is funny.

But dude? If you have to explain a joke, it didn’t work.

The show never really explained who came up with the list, what qualified a movie as one of the 50 funniest of all time, or how the ranking worked. But seeing how Dumb and Dumber was ranked higher than Young Frankenstein, I kinda suspect it was a group of buddies in their early- to mid-20s who concocted the list after ingesting a fair amount of beer. Or maybe tequila.

I have a theory about comedies. Well, not so much a theory as a description of a particular type of comedy which I only find amusing in small doses. I call it the horse-and-baggie approach.

See, it’s one thing to beat a dead horse. It’s another to beat a dead horse, then cut it into little pieces, then put each piece in a separate baggie and bury each baggie in a separate back yard.

Horse and baggie comedy seems to be based on the fervent belief that if a gag was funny once, it’ll be just as funny if you keep doing it. Repeatedly. In the same frickin’ scene.

I have a somewhat different point of view.

Do the joke, people either get it or don’t, and the scene moves on. Funny gags will wear out, and unfunny gags don’t get any more amusing through repetition. What they get is annoying.

As my dad was fond of saying, “Once is funny. Twice is too much. Third time’s a spanking.”

5 Things I’ve Learned

In an earlier post I wrote that I’ve learned it’s more important to be kind than clever. Here are a few other things I’ve (finally!) managed to figure out.

The world doesn’t owe you squat.
I’ve noticed a disturbing trend among 20-somethings who are just joining the job market. A lot of them seem to think they should be able to jump past entry-level positions in cube farms and go straight into an executive suite, get executive pay, and enjoy executive perks.

Listen up, kids. If other people in your office are driving nicer cars and bringing home more money, maybe it’s because those other people have been with the company longer, have more experience, and, just possibly, are better qualified than someone fresh out of college.

At your age, the people in their 40s who have the nice perks and good pay were right where you are now. They worked crappy jobs for next to nothing. They had to work for better pay and perks. So do you.

Being grown up isn’t always fun.
When I was a kid I assumed that once I reached adulthood I’d be able to do pretty much whatever I liked as long as I obeyed the law. I could stay up as late as I wanted. Eat ice cream for breakfast. That kind of thing. But now that I can do those things, I don’t really want to anymore.

I also failed to take into account how much of being a responsible adult involves doing things I don’t particularly like to do. Cleaning toilets isn’t fun. Neither are paying bills, cleaning out rain gutters, or spending a glorious summer day doing chores. But since no one’s volunteered to step forward and do all this stuff for me, I’m pretty much stuck with it.

Adults don’t know everything.
On some level I really thought being grown-up meant knowing what to do at all times. It slowly dawned on me there was no Knowledge Fairy to wave a magic wand and – voila! – I’d have instant wisdom. Instead I fumble my way along and hope things turn out okay. And that maybe I can leave the world a little better off than it was when I got here.

I’m not nearly as smart as I thought I was.
When I was in college I believed I knew all the answers. I had life allll figured out. Then I spent the next 10 years learning just how wrong I was. By the time I was 30 I’d caught on that not only did I not know the answers; I hadn’t even figured out most of the questions yet.

Plans can only get you so far.
Career counselors tell people to figure out where they want to be in 20 years and create a strategic plan for achieving that goal. Being a fairly goal-oriented person myself, I can certainly respect that approach. The problem is, even the most carefully-crafted plan can’t compensate for the curveballs life tends to throw at us.

When that happens, sometimes we can deal with the detour and eventually work our way back to the plan. And sometimes we can’t. My life isn’t at all what I thought it would be when I was a kid. An informal poll of several of my friends revealed their lives hadn’t gone as expected, either.

This doesn’t mean our lives are bad; they’re just not what we thought they’d be. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing. If our lives all turned out the way we planned them as children, we’d be a world filled with nothing but cowboys, firemen, astronauts, and ballerinas.

Casserole != Hot Dish

As a lifelong Minnesotan I feel it’s my duty to clear up a misconception that’s plagued Minnesota-speak for decades. To wit: the term “hot dish” is usually defined as a quaint regional synonym for casserole.

That’s not entirely accurate.

Oh, hot dish can be a type of casserole. But as you can see from the highly-scientific diagram below, not every casserole qualifies as hot dish. For example, that Thanksgiving favorite, green bean casserole, is most definitely not a hot dish.

And while I suppose lasagna could be classified as a casserole or a hot dish, I’ve never heard anyone call it anything other than lasagna. Try it sometime. People will just look at you funny.

But I digress.

So what exactly is hot dish, anyway?

I’m so glad you asked.

Although there are dozens of hot dishes gracing any number of church basement potlucks on any given weekend throughout the Gopher State, they all possess some similar traits:

• They contain canned cream of something soup. This is usually cream of mushroom, but cream of celery (or even cream of chicken!) will do in a pinch.
• They contain canned or frozen vegetables. Most people use peas, carrots, or corn; however, any canned vegetable (with the possible exceptions of spinach, brussels sprouts, and beets) would work.
• They contain some kind of starch. This acts as a kind of suspension for the other ingredients. Rice, pasta, or even potatoes can be used.
• They contain inexpensive meat or canned fish. By far the champion hot dish meat is hamburger. Tuna and hot dogs are also used. I hear tell some folks use SPAM, although I’ve personally never done that.
• Hot dish isn’t always baked. Sometimes it’s simmered all day in a crock pot. Hot dish can also be put together in a good-sized cooking pot.

And what’s a casserole?

Good question. Casserole is much more free-form than hot dish.

• Casserole may or may not be saucy. Casseroles usually contain a sauce of some kind, but that’s not a hard and fast rule.
• Veggies are optional. Many casseroles contain vegetables, but they’re not required. That’s why macaroni and cheese could be classified as a casserole, but not as a hot dish. If you threw in peas and some kind of meat, it would be a different story.
• Meat/fish is optional, too. There are vegan casseroles. But vegan hot dishes? No self-respecting church lady would ever show up with that.
• Casserole is always baked. In a casserole.

So if you ever happen to be in Minnesota and find yourself attending a church basement potluck, take note of the difference and use the terms appropriately.

‘Cause no one wants church basement ladies to look at them funny.

Common Sense, Isn’t

In my 40-odd years on this planet I’ve come to realize a few things. It’s more important to be kind than clever. Always drink your orange juice before you eat your Cap’n Crunch. And common sense is getting less common every day.

If someone claiming to represent your bank showed up on your doorstep and asked you to “confirm” your account number, social security number, password, and so on, you’d tell him to get lost, right? But for some reason, when technology enters the mix, critical thinking goes out the window. Someone who wouldn’t dream of giving personal or financial information to a stranger in person, will think nothing of sharing such details by e-mail or on a Web site.

It amazes me that some people have to be told not to believe everything they read just because it comes from the Internet.

More evidence that common sense has gone the way of the dodo: next time you’re behind the wheel, observe the other cars on the road. Make note of how few drivers seem to realize that the laws of physics are laws, not suggestions. We live every day of our lives with these laws. They apply equally to everyone.

• Two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time.
• Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.
• Objects in motion tend to stay in motion (unless acted upon by an outside force).
• Objects at rest tend to stay at rest.

They’re simple concepts. They haven’t changed. But some yahoo always seems to think these rules just don’t apply to him (or her). At some point today someone, somewhere will try to outrun a train. Someone else will hydroplane a car right off the road. Still someone else will ride another driver’s bumper and realize about two seconds too late that the car ahead has slowed down, and will plow right into it.

Want more proof? Check out product packaging these days. Cups warn people that hot coffee is hot. Shouldn’t the steam be an indication? Instructions appear on tubes of toothpaste. Open cap, squeeze toothpaste onto toothbrush; brush teeth. That’s a fairly intuitive process, don’t you think?

My personal favorite are the labels warning consumers that cans of peanuts may contain -gasp – peanuts!

At what point did these things need to be explained to us?

I blame idiot-proofing.

Seriously. Legislators are desperately trying to protect people from their own stupidity. Seatbelt laws. Motorcycle helmet laws. Traffic lights with little arrows to indicate when it’s safe to make a left turn. Warnings not to mix water with electronics. I mean, come on. Is it really necessary to warn people that they shouldn’t make toast underwater?

And by idiot-proofing things, we seem to be accumulating an impressive number of idiots. We’re also bypassing natural selection by not letting people experience the natural consequences of their stupidity. It’s alarming, actually. Folks who would otherwise have removed themselves from the gene pool are now living long enough to reproduce.

We’re dealing with second- and third-generation dunderheads who can’t make change, don’t know who has the right of way, and believe everything they read online because if it’s on the Internet, it must be true. These are the folks who keep Jerry Springer and America’s Funniest Home Videos on the air. Because it’s funny to see someone get hit in the crotch with a baseball bat.

I wonder: if this continues, will we become a society that’s divided not only socially and economically, but intellectually, as well? Are we creating our very own race of Morlocks?

Because if that’s the case, I’d better get started working on my own time machine.

Please won’t someone think of the dandelions?

Recently I realized something. At some point during the six years I’ve been a home owner, dandelions became the enemy. Those cheery little sunburst puffs I took such delight in as a child have somehow morphed into this formidable foe I feel an irrational need to eliminate. Dandelions haven’t changed. Why has my perspective?

I have no issue with the wild violets that have also sprouted up in various spots. I think they’re pretty. And from a totally aesthetic point of view, the yellow of the dandelions against the purple of the violets actually looks pretty. And the dandelions aren’t really HURTING anything. It’s not like the grass minds their presence.

But day after day I find myself outside, garden spade in hand, digging up those little yellow buggers – preferably by the roots. Am I a dandelion bigot? If so, will weed huggers show up outside my house, picket signs in hand, protesting my unfair treatment of these helpless plants?

From a strictly Darwinist point of view, they’ve certainly shown impressive survival skills. Over the years I’ve poisoned them, uprooted them, and tried everything I can think of to create as dandelion-hostile an environment as possible. Yet year after year they keep coming back.

Maybe I should stop putting so much time and energy into eradicating all things dandelion from my yard. Give in to Mother Nature and concede the field, as it were. Stop trying to force an artificial ideal of pristine, perfectly groomed fields of emerald onto a more natural mixture of grass, flowers, and yes, even weeds.

Nah. Those suckers are goin’ DOWN.