August 2009 Archives

"Daddy, why do you have a book called Please Kill Me on your bookshelf?"

"Oh, that's right. I forgot you can read."

"Is it about people asking other people to kill them with swords and maces and cars and stuff?"

"No, it's an oral history of punk rock in the 1970s."

"What does that mean?"

"It's not important."

"OK. Why do you have a book called The Soccer War? Is it about people having war during a soccer game?"

"Kind of."

"And why do you have a book called Black Friday? Is it about a Friday where everything turns black?"

"No."

"Why do you have a book called Dating Your Mom? That just sounds weird."

"It's a comedy book."

"Oh. And why do you have a book called Rabbit At Rest? Is it about rabbits resting?"

"No, it's part of an endless series about some guy's mid-life crisis in the suburbs."

"That sounds boring. Can we talk about something else, please?

"Anything you want."

"OK. Why do you have a book called I, Fatty?"

Driving back from another exciting family dinner at Souplantation. Elijah starts twiddling my elbow with his toes. After a couple of minutes, I tell him to cut the crap.

"Get your feet off of me," I say.

"No, get your FOOTS off of me," he says.

"It's feet," I say. "Foots is not a word unless you're using it as a third-person verb, as in 'he foots the bill.'"

"Say get your foots off me and I will," Elijah says.

"No," I say. "Get your FEET off of me."

"FOOTS!"

"Foot."

"Not ONE foot. TWO foots."

"I will not say foots. It's grammatically incorrect."

Elijah begins to grow upset.

"Say it! Say it! Say it! SAY FOOTS!"

"This is the most ridiculous argument I've ever heard," Regina says.

"I will not say foots.'

Now Elijah is kicking my elbow.

"Get...your...feet...off...of....me...." I say.

"I will if you say foots. SAAAAAAY FOOOOOOOOTS!"

"Fine," I say, "Foots!"

"No, in a sentence," he says. "FOOOOOOOOOTS!"

"Get your...No, I can't do it. Get your feet off me."

"FOOTS FOOTS FOOTS!"

"Clam it right now or you won't get to watch TV tomorrow."

"FOOTS!"

"I mean it, dude."

"Fine," he says. "It's just a dumb word, anyway."

"Get your feet off of me."

He removes his feet.

"My foots are off of you."

"Feet."

"Whatever."

"Daddy, can I watch Mad Men?"

"No."

"Why, is it rated R?"

"Yes."

"What, are there people killing people in it and stuff, with knives and guns and weapons of all sorts?"

"No."

"So nobody dies?"

"Occasionally, people die, but it tends to happen offscreen."

"So why is it rated R?"

"Because people are having sex all the time."

"So, I can watch it and just leave the room when it's sexy time."

"Did you just say sexy time?"

"Yes."

"OK."

"What else is on the show?"

"Mostly people sitting around drinking."

"What, like beer and whiskey and stuff?"

"Yes."

"So? I've seen people drinking alcohol before. They do it on The Simpsons all the time."

"This is different."

"Why?"

"Because."

"And what else is on the show?"

"People at work."

"That sounds boring."

"It can be, but the sexy scenes are good."

"Well, what about Watchmen? Can I see that?"

"No. It's one of the most violent movies ever."

"Why? It's just about men who watch other men."

"True enough."

Conversation in the car this morning.

Neal: "Dude, I dropped a turd this morning that you wouldn't believe. It was the size of a guinea pig."

Elijah: "That's pretty big."

"Yeah."

"I once made one the size of a bunny rabbit."

"Wow."

"That's bigger than an guinea pig."

"Usually."

"It was pretty great."

"I imagine."

"General Grevious poops metal."

"I'm sure he does."

Hom Yoga Presents
Neal Pollack's Club Sutra
Tuesday, August 4
7-9 PM.
@Against The Stream Buddhist Meditation Society
4300 Melrose Avenue (between Vermont and the 101)
Los Angeles
$10 suggested donation.

The first class went great. Come on by and enjoy me reading from Yoga Dork, running you through some yoga poses, and then babbling amusingly about Indian philosophy. Hope to see you there.