Tuning out while watching your step
Humor: Manilow’s music and two become one
Poor Barry Manilow. I think he’s being treated rather shabbily by a few Rite Aid stores in California. These stores are being plagued by vagrants and loiterers. The solution to their problem is to blast Barry’s tunes to drive them away.
I’ll tell you what, if I was loitering and heard Barry’s “Copacabana,” I would be moving and grooving. How can you keep your feet from joyful steps once you hear, “Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there.”
In my opinion, there’s a better choice of songs that drive people away. It always works for me. When I hear the opening strains of “Moon River,” my finger can’t get to the radio fast enough to change stations.
Blare some “Moon River” from a speaker and I’d be out of there before the verse, “crossing you in style someday.”
What’s with Moon River wider than a mile? Who cares how big it is or isn’t? That’s like singing about an Arkwright windmill. “Wind turbine, higher than 184 feet.” Unless you’re in an airplane flying at an elevation of 183 feet, who cares? By the way, what’s a huckleberry friend?
¯ I got another report card from National Grid. You guessed it. I ranked as a Good customer once again but fell short of the coveted rank of Excellent. At least my Church Lady nemesis fell to a Good ranking. Her AC got her.
I think I know what keeps me from being ranked with the elite electricity users. I use a lot of electricity in writing these silly articles. All the deleting of stupid ideas and replacing them with more stupid ideas takes up a lot of KWHs. Oh well, I have resigned myself to a mediocre Good.
My report card got me to wondering what a report card from Tops or Aldi might look like? I would probably score a rating of “Are You Kidding Me?
What are you doing eating pork rinds, my idiot friend? Those things are loaded with disgusting fat. They might as well sell those slices in a little box in the shape of a coffin. And I see where you bought some cheeteros. What’s with those little shriveled curly twists of dynamite? Do you know what the ingredients are in that abomination of a food product.? Lactic acid, citric acid, monosodium glutamate, and maltodextrin. MAL — and maladies, Do you get the connection? Glutamate, Would you like a mate with a glut? I doubt it. You are disgusting. You get a Very Poor on your Tops or Aldi report card. Try adding some kale and rutabaga to your glut. We will give you one more month to clean up your act if you live that long.”
¯ One of the main movie hits this summer is “Ant-man and The Wasp”. I’m not much of a fan of wasps but ants have always intrigued me. When I was a kid, I guess I was a nerd. Actually, there’s no guessing about it. I was. Which causes me to wonder, am I still a nerd? Can you be a senior citizen and still be a nerd?. If not, at what age do you lose that nerd label? So many questions and so few answers.
I think I remember the moment when I changed from a nerd to a sort of non-nerd. It was in fourth grade on the playing field of the Campus School. We were in the midst of a hot game of kickball. As a nerd, I was relegated to the position of deep left field where I could do little damage. But things were about to change.
In my rumination about nerdness , I have a new consideration. Perhaps I was a wimp and not a nerd. On second thought, a wimp would not track down a kickball. A wimp world be fearful about hurting his hands in catching the ball. Whew, it’s better to be a nerd.
This is the moment when I shed some of my nerdness. A rifle shot ball was kicked into deep centerfield where I charged after it. The layers of nerd had to be shedding off my back as I ran like The Flash toward the missile headed for a home run. I made a great running catch that defied all expectations of success. The fourth-grade girls were all over me. I went from a nerd to having groupies in an instant. That didn’t last long. They had a new hero within days.
I digress. Back to the fascination with ants. As a kid, I would use a magnifying glass as a death ray directing sunlight onto ants as they scurried about sidewalk trying to avoid PriviteraMan and his frying machine.
As a high school dorky freshman English student, I wrote an essay on ants. The resurrection of nerdism was manifest again. But now many years later, I no longer have an attraction to ants. Now I battle chipmunks.
¯ If you want to be part of the elite cultural iconic couples in high-powered America’s fashionable elite, you and your significant other have to get a cool name. A name that combines you and your partner with a single label. For example, one of the newest cool couples on the buzz list is Kimberly Guilfoyle and Donald Trump Jr. They are now known by the swanky crowd, of which I and my wife are about to enter, as Donberly. As you can see, it’s a combination of Kimberly and Donald.
So my wife Sharon and I are about to join the fashionable elite crowd that is cool and slick. Therefore, we have acquired the buzz name of Ninaron. I feel awesome just typing that. I can even say it with a swagger — “Ninaron.” It reeks of class.
Our President and Melania are definitely one of America’s power couples. They should henceforth be known and Donlania or as the President probably prefers Donandbabe.
Our Almost President, who is still running from now until 2020, should be known along with her sweetie pie as Hilbilly. You can play with these names all day. Have at it.
¯ The staircase leading to the offices of Fredonia Village Hall has become a point of criticism. Some say it’s a reflection of the state of affairs in Fredonia. village officials have recently been the target for shabby governance and the declining condition of the village. Actually, their staircase plan is brilliant. This is what they’re up to. It’s very clever, indeed.
The Empire State building in New York City was constructed in less than a year and a half. It went up at the rate of 4 1/2 stories a WEEK, including STAIRS. Obviously, if the Fredonia officials wanted the stairs repaired, they would’ve been done long ago.
The Pharaoh Khufu nearly 4,000 years ago decreed the building of the pyramid in his campaign to make Egypt Great Again. Many historians agree that with levers, shovels, hammers, and brute strength, the pyramid was erected in about 20 years. It, too, included stairs.
Some critics of the current Fredonia political leadership conclude that given the task of building the pyramid by the Pharoah, 4,000 years later they’d still be pouring the footer.
Actually, according to my research team, their ingenious plan for the steps is about to unfold. Those concrete behemoths and crevices are about to become a tourist magnet.
You have probably heard about the famous Spanish steps of Rome. Thousands of tourists climb those 138 steps every year. Big deal. it’s not exactly like climbing Mount Everest.
There are millions of dollars in future sales coming from adventurers who will take pride in doing something of significance. Thousands of daredevils will execute leaps and bounds, up and down the village hall cement maze. Those who succeed will walk away proudly wearing, at 10 bucks a crack mind you, Tee-shirts declaring their conquest — “I Survived The MISSTEPS of Fredonia Village Hall.”
Nin Privitera is a Fredonia resident. His column appears the second Sunday of each month. Send comments to email@example.com