My Very First Mailbag

Given I’m three years in on whatever this is, it’s about time I did one of those mailbag things that seem so popular with podcasters and columnists who run out of ideas. But unlike those ungrateful attention hounds who ask you to spend your valuable time ideating and executing questions for their lazy asses to ponder, I provide both ends of the Q&A, leaving you free to peruse the results at your leisure and to your desired extent. And it’s all free—no ads, no pledge drives, not even a tip jar. So now, with our value paradigm firmly established, it’s time for some utterly contrived questions and answers.

What do you see as your primary role(s) in life?

What a great question! (I hate when people say that, because usually, as in this case, it’s light years from a great question, which makes me lose immediate and total respect for both the Q-er & A-er.) I think I have two primary roles in life: 1) To make sure that wherever I am, no one feels like the worst-dressed person there, and to a lesser extent 2) to say the thing other people are thinking but won’t say out loud not because I’m brave but because often that thing is funny and I’m bad at not saying out loud things I think are funny even when I sort of know I shouldn’t. But again, great question.

While we’re on roles, who are your role models?

Wow, another great question, and nice segue too. Outside of my kids and my wife, and virtually all of my friends, and most of their kids, and most of my kids’ friends, I’m not sure I have any. I’m kind of in an anti-celebrity phase of late, though I do admire people who visibly appreciate how great it is they get paid huge sums of money to do things they started doing as a kid just because they were fun. To me it doesn’t make a ton of sense to model yourself after someone you don’t know well, though obviously much good can come from following in the footsteps of those who walk worthy paths.

Speaking of celebrities, is there anything in the entertainment world that particularly bothers you at present?

Look at you, connecting every question to its predecessor. And yes, I have two bones to pick in this realm. First, I find myself vexed when they give the leads in animated movies to established stars who then earn millions for offering nothing but a silly voice. Steve Carell made $12.5 million for Minions: The Rise of Gru and never even had to stand up. All roles in animated movies should go to struggling actors who do excellent silly voices, a category of humans of which we doubtless have an endless supply.

My other beef is when American actors play British roles and vice versa. No matter how good they are I’m always aware of the fact that it’s not their real voice and as such my disbelief cannot be fully suspended, a key component to my enjoyment of films and television. It wasn’t a problem for the years I watched House, as since I don’t pay attention to this kind of stuff, I didn’t know Hugh Laurie was British, and when I found out I felt cheated and hurt, which okay, maybe that’s a bit on me but still, are there not enough actors on each side of the pond that we need to poach each other’s? I grew up on Mary Poppins, in which Dick Van Dyke’s cockney chimney sweep worked because it was so over the top, and because Dick Van Dyke is a comic genius. But Renée Zellweger as a British Bridget Jones? I think we all can see how that one was wrong from the jump.

Is there anything you would advise against having for breakfast?

Two words: Hot smoothie

Have you ever thought of second careers that would be naturals for certain professionals?

Hasn’t everyone? Top of my list is how flight attendants would, with a little training, make fine tightrope walkers. Chemists would likely make excellent if slow bartenders, and bartenders less good but fast chemists. Surgeons would make good butchers and seamstresses, bank tellers would make good blackjack and Texas Hold ‘Em dealers and, as Saturday Night Live demonstrated in a classic 1972 takeoff on the smooth ride TV commercial for a Mercury Marquis Brougham, diamond cutters would make excellent circumcisers of infant Jewish boys, or moyls, as the faithful call them.

Is there a unifying theme I should look for when selecting restaurants that reflect the coastal culture in and around Clearwater, Florida?

There is indeed and good on you taking the elevator to my wheelhouse. Restaurants there are funny (you decide whether ha-ha or strange), as the names of so many end in possessives, use similar fonts and have a cartoonish image of some local animal—iguana, manatee, dolphin, etc.—bursting through the middle of the logo. Here are a few examples so you don’t think I’m exaggerating because people tell me I do that sometimes:

Yes, they’re dumb and unimaginative, but cartoon animals are their own reward and as such are best served dumb and unimaginative. And what a refreshing change of pace that question occasioned from the dismal winter we’re experiencing here in the mid-Atlantic.

Who’s the best dog in the world?

If I weren’t so old I probably wouldn’t answer this quicksand of a question, but given that the phrase “Who gives a shit” runs through my brain even more often than “I have to pee,” here goes: It’s Beans the flat-coated retriever, and I believe I have a drop the mic case with this:

Now, lest you think after watching Beans lovingly maul me that he only has one speed, think again, for Beans is well trained and knows he can’t get away with such shenanigans with they who feed and care for him. I’m like Beans’ grandfather; I pop in once in a while and spoil the crap out of him, but like my kids after time spent with their grandmother, Beans knows he can’t pull that shit with the home team. Beans plays fetch with gleeful floppery, but stops without a whimper. He hops in the back of the car happily and is so quiet one time I forgot he was in there. He doesn’t tug on the leash on walks, and seems to have read up on his breed and understands he’s supposed to retain his puppy-like enthusiasm well into middle age, witness the velocity of his tail wag in the video.

The above are among the qualities that make Beans, IMHO, the best dog. But his best quality is one I imagine he shares with most if not all dogs who aren’t mistreated: a spirit that is 100% pure. All he wants is for you to be happy, and he firmly believes that having all of your exposed skin slobbered upon by him is the fastest path to your happiness, though he is willing to negotiate. So Beans gets my vote, but I certainly am open to arguments in support of other dogs, so by all means, make your case.