It Could Have Been Worse

My mother's favorite expression was--

'It could have been worse'

I'd come home from a bad day at school
Or break my arm playing outside
Total my first car

And she'd say--

'Well, you know, it could have been worse'

Every New Year's Eve
My father, who, like me
Tended to see the darker side of things
Would sit in the living room
With the lights off
A drink in his hand
And she'd give him some time
Then say--

'What's wrong'

And he'd list everything
That he hadn't done that year
Or that he'd screwed up
Or hadn't done as well as he could have
And she'd say--

'Be grateful.  It could have been worse'

Then she'd sit down next to him
And the ball would drop on the t.v.
And they'd exchange a nice little kiss

My mother kept my father afloat
For a very long time
Until he sunk too far down
For even her to reach

When I got older
I adopted my father's attitude
Towards New Year's Eve
Along with some of his other...issues

And one night
After a particularly bad year
I went to my mother's house
And sat in the same chair my Dad did
Right up until he passed away
At the kitchen table
In the next room
From...

Well, you don't care
What it was from

Anyway, I told my Mom how much I hated New Year's Eve
Because it forces you to reflect
And I'd rather just keep pushing on
Until there isn't anything left
To push towards

And she said
This woman who'd put up
With more than her fair share
Of bullshit over the years
She said--

'You could have lost more.  You could have done less.  It could have rained when it was sunny.  You could have been sick when you were healthy.  There could have been less laughter and more crying.  We're all luckier than we like to think about, because we think if we think about it, our luck will run out.  But we should think about it more.  And we should think about how nice it is that every year we get a shot at giving it another chance.  There's nothing more valuable in the world then another chance.  So buck up.  Maybe it wasn't the best year, but in twenty years you'll look back on this one, and you'll still wish you could go back to it and do it again, if only because there was something about it you'd want to relive.  A day.  A week.  A nice time.  Lunch with a friend you don't talk to anymore.  Maybe a New Year's Eve with the man you loved.  You'll miss something about it.  It could have been worse.'

I didn't say anything
I just took my Mom's hand
And we watched the ball drop
And as it did
I saw her eyes tear up a little bit
And then she nodded her head
As if to say--

Onto the next

I'll Bet

Look at this nutjob
In front of me

You know what, I'll bet he's going to turn onto Hoover
All the nutjobs live on Hoover Street
I'll bet he's going to Hoover Street
To go knock up his wife
And shoot up
How much you wanna bet?
I'll bet a million bucks that he--

Oh, okay
Never mind
He's turning on Copeland

Well, that doesn't prove anything
A lot of nuts live on Copeland too

I'll bet he runs this red light
Watch him, he's going to run it
I'll bet any money
He's going to run this light
And then I'm going to have to chase after him
And make a citizen's arrest
And I'll probably get shot
By one of his Copeland goons

How much you wanna bet
It's going to happen like that
When he--

Okay, he's stopping

Probably has to reload his crackpipe

I'll bet he's stopping at that pawn shop on Copeland
To pawn off his mother's wedding ring
For drugs

I bet they give him an ounce of something for it
Right across the counter
That's how they do it these days

Even the pawn shops
Have lost all their dignity

I bet he trades in the wedding ring
His father's high school diploma
And his wife's kidney
All in one shot

How much you wanna bet he does?

Okay, he's pulling into the--

Is that the church parking lot?

Oh well, he's probably going to peddle smack
To the altar boys
In between services

Scum like this
They just make me wanna--

Look, he's getting out of the car

I'll bet he's going to be smoking a cigar and--

Oh.

Hang on...

HI SISTER!

IS THAT A NEW CAR?

OH RIGHT, THE RENTAL
BECAUSE YOU'RE LETTING THE ORPHANAGE
USE THE CHURCH'S VAN
FOR THEIR TRIP TO THE ZOO

NICE SEEING YOU!

...I'll bet she's really a man

How much you wanna bet?

My Information

Is my information going to be distributed to anybody?
Because I'm very conscious of that

I'm very nervous
About information of any kind
Being given to people
Who could erase me from the mainframe
Like in 'The Net'
Where Sandra Bullock
Had her entire life wiped out
Because--Well, I never finished that movie
But I'm guessing it's because she wrote her Social Security number down
On one of those 'Enter to Win a Cruise' cards at the mall

Those are all a scam you know
They really are

I mean, have you ever actually met anybody
That's won anything like that--ever?

And they're dangerous

My cousin entered one once
And two weeks later
A guy showed up at her door
Trying to sell her heroin
Out of the back of his truck

I mean, that could be a coincidence
But I really don't think so

Now I don't give out any of my information

You give the slightest detail about your life to some stranger
And the next thing you know
Your inbox is full of pornography
And you're getting junk mail
About penis enlargers

You know with all the fancy machinery
Those computer hackers must have
It amazes me that they can't tell that someone with the name Marla
Would have no use for an enlarged penis

The other day I was at Petco
And they wanted the name of my dog
To register it for something
I said 'What does the dog need to be registered for?
A credit card?
He's a Beagle
He'd have no use for it
I mean, maybe if he were a Daschund
But Beagles usually prefer paying with cash

Anyway, they wanted his name and I told them his name was Klaus
And they believed me

So now some poor Beagle named Klaus
Is going to be getting my Rodney's junk mail
Because I also gave them a fake address
And I told them I'm Latvian

They didn't ask if I was Latvian
I just tossed it in in the mix
To throw them off the trail

That's what you have to do these days
Nobody's safe

There are some really crazy people out there

And Then It's Going to Snow

I'm going to waltz
Right into next year

I'm going to kiss someone
Like I mean business

I'm going to live like I'm young
And enjoy like I'm wise
And make eyes at whomever
My eyes want to see

I'm going to put on a new shirt
And become a brand new me

And then it's going to snow
I know it's going to snow

And it'll feel
Like a new year

A Next Year

There will be better things
Next year

There will be beaches
Celebrated holidays
Days off
Vacations
Relaxation
Unattended temptations
Renewed fascinations
And lasting relations next year

Next year there will be
Forgiveness
Forgetting
Foreplay
Focus
Photography
Philanthropy
And memories
Lots more memories will be made next year

Next year we'll keep in touch
And keep our promises
And keep our goals in mind
And keep our temper in check
And keep our patience alive
And keep our parents proud
And keep our ourselves healthy
And keep working at all the things we stopped working at this year

Next year we'll do things
Garden
Dance
Karate
Knit
Learn
Grow

Next year there won't be
Arguments
Rain
Disappointment
Lies
Unworthy priorities

When next year arrives
We'll take out the trash
Wake up earlier
Clean, clean, clean
Think before we speak

We'll buy a yoga mat
A subscription to the New York Times
Seventeen bananas
And a house plant

...And maybe a puppy named Charles

Next year we'll be better
We'll feel better
We'll do better

Next year is coming
Thank God

Thank God there is--

A Next Year

Have Your Boyfriend Do It

Why don't you have your boyfriend do it?

Fix your brake lights
Rotate your tires
Clean out the trunk
Where you keep
All your shit

Remind me again
Why I should do it?

To be friendly?
To be your friend?

Can you remind me again
What the benefits are
Of being your friend?

Can you tell me
The last thing
You did
For anybody
Other than you
And somebody you
Wanted to sleep with?

Can you tell me something about me?
Because I can tell you
An awful lot
About you

Because I listen to you
Do you ever find yourself listening to me?
Or do you not even notice
That whenever we're together
It's an endless stream of sobs and shit
Coming out of your mouth

And, you know, I'd put up with it
I'd continue to put up with it
Except I don't have to
Because I'm not your boyfriend

I'm not getting laid
Or paid
Or pleasured in any way

I get nothing out of dealing with you
Except headaches
And alcoholism

If I believe in God and good and morality
Maybe I'd consider it cosmic
All this suffering
I'm dealing with
While your boyfriend is
Wherever the fuck he always is

But I don't believe in God
Anymore
So really all I'm doing
Is wasting time

So as for your car
It looks fine to me

But if it's not
That's not my problem

Nothing

Is my problem

So if you have a problem
Then you need to talk to your boyfriend about it

It seems to me
He's a little too happy
For somebody

Who's dating
You

Jake and His Shadow

You look taller, Jake, or is it just me I mean I haven't really hung out with you in awhile because you've sort of been avoiding sidewalks and I don't really know what that's about but whatever I'm not judging but yeah it seems like you've gotten taller because I seem shorter and I'm not going to lie and say I love that because I definitely don't but I guess it just goes with aging and I was talking with Claire's shadow the other day and by the way you should call her because I really liked her shadow and when you two would walk through the park together her shadow and me just really clicked and I'd love to spend more time with her and I know Claire like lit your car on fire or tried to because you have to really try to light a car on fire but you know a woman is not her shadow and again I really liked the shadow and what have you done for me I mean like in the scope of your life WHAT HAVE YOU DONE FOR YOUR SHADOW, JAKE?  WHAT ABOUT ME?!?!?

...Anyway, you look taller

You look good

Taller

Good

Tall

Great

Whatever

You look fine

It was nice seeing you

Even though in order for you to get taller

I have to diminish myself

Do you understand what I'm saying, Jake?

Are you getting me?

Man, some people never change

Imported Gays

So what I did for New Year's Eve
Because, I always have an awful time on New Year's Eve
Because, I go out and I'm gay
And, like, all the other gays are like--

Ohhhh, you're lame
You read
I don't want to kiss you

So then, I go into the New Year
On, like, a real sucky note
And the whole year ends up blowing

So what I did for THIS New Year's Eve
And, I mean, I don't want to toss around the word 'genius'
But I think it's pretty genius
And I can't believe nobody thought of it before
But whatever, I'm a visionary, I guess
Is--

I imported gays

Like, from cool places
Like, Reno
And stuff

Okay, think about it
I'm from a small town
Everybody knows everybody
So when new people come to town, it's like--

Oh my God, new people
New gays!
Swarm!  Swarm!

So I was like--Well, if I'm the guy the new gays are hanging out with
Then all that swarming is going to be happening
All up on this right here
This meaning my body
You know what I mean?

So I went on Facebook
And I found these...guys

Who were...willing
To come to...here
And hang out with me
For, like, a small...sum

Fee, whatever

Now, some may call it
Them, these...guys
You know, hookers
Prostitutes, escorts
Gigolos, whatever

But you know what I call them?

Friends

I mean, like
Friends you pay
To hang out with you
And make others jealous
That you have such awesome exotic friends
From Indianapolis and Denver
Who probably know, like, amazing sex tricks
That they learned from not living in this lameass state

But still
Friends

I think my imported gays
Are going to make this New Year's Eve
Like, the best one ever

Heck, I may even do this again
On Valentine's Day

When We Left Harvard

When we left Harvard
We started companies
That did things
We can't explain to you
But they were good things
Big things
Things that changed the world
Things that made us money
Lots of money
And we were still young enough to appreciate it

When we left Harvard
We moved to cities
Various cities across the country
Some exciting
Some not-so-exciting
And we rented white apartments
And filled them with random furniture
And bought the newest laptops we could find
And began writing epic American novels about students who go to colleges like Harvard
And then move to random American cities
To write epic American novels

When we left Harvard
We married girls from Harvard
And had Harvard babies
Who will grow up to idolize Harvard
And will get into Harvard
Or else risk being Disappointing to us, their parents
Forever Disappointing
With a capital 'D'

When we left Harvard
We were confident
We were forward-thinking
We were hungry
Above all else, we were hungry

When we left Harvard
We learned new languages
That only Harvard grads could understand
And we spoke it quickly and fluently to each other
And ceased speaking
To anybody else

When we left Harvard
We never finished those epic American novels
Well, one of us did, and he became the toast of literary American
But the rest of us squandered our youths
And cried into our laptop keyboards
Until they were destroyed

When we left Harvard
Our hunger turned into something else
Resentment
Depression
Dejection

Something else

And now fewer and fewer of our kids
Are getting into Harvard
Despite being legacies
Because there simply isn't room

There isn't room
For anymore Harvard people in the room

We feel like the Sneeches
From the Dr. Seuss book
We want to be able to distinguish
Between real Harvard people
And the newer Harvard people

The newer people with less ambition
But more resources

Less drive
But more money

Less knowledge
But more access to the knowledge
That we've uncovered for them
So their lives could be easier

We want them to be the Harvard people
Without stars upon thars

They are NOT real Harvard people

We are Harvard people

We...

We never really left Harvard

A part of us stayed there
In those hallowed halls
And raucous bars
And study halls
And spacious libraries
And ivy-covered dormitories

We go there in our dreams
And we picture large, ancient books in front us
And we open them
And they tell us things

They tell us
Exactly
What we need
To do

The Abandoned Mall

My biggest nightmare is that I'm alone in an abandoned mall and no matter how many times I have the nightmare I still walk around the mall and look to see if any of the stores are open and they never are and then I start to panic because I wonder if it's like the mall from Night of the Living Dead or Dawn of the Living Dead or Whatever of the Living Dead and so then I try to find a place where I can hide from the zombies but like I said all the stores are closed and so then I think Should I try to break into one of the stores even though I really don't agree with vandalism? but then I think Screw it, I'm not getting eaten by a zombie nun so then I grab one of those chairs from the cafeteria to throw through some glass at Bed Bath and Beyond because it seems like there'd be lots of places to hide in there and it's comfy what with the pillows and all but the cafeteria chairs are bolted down and then I start to panic because I think I hear something coming from behind the fake plants in front of the Sharper Image and so I jump in the fountain and I get wet obviously because it's a fountain and then I'm like Oh my God, the zombies can see me I'm only in the fountain and it's an awful hiding place so then I just start running through the mall screaming because at that point I'm like Whatever Zombies, just come get me! but they don't, they don't, but I swear they're going to, and then I run right into--

And I don't know
I wake up
At that point
Always

So...

What do you think
That means?

This Is Not Your L.A.

It is altogether possible
That this is not your L.A.

This might be the L.A.
Of luckier, smarter, richer people
Mostly richer
Probably richer

This might be the L.A.
Of 1991 when things were scary
And rappers were still known for killing each other
Rather than guest starring on CBS procedural dramas

Or this might the L.A.
Of eighty years ago
When women wore big hats
And everyone changed their names
And there were trollies
And people talked in generalized accents
And there was opportunity
Or at least the appearance of opportunity
There was a reason to be here

But unfortunately, this is not that L.A.
In fact, this may never have been that L.A.
And you still may like the L.A. that's here
But it's important to remember
That you didn't come here for the L.A. that's here
You came here for the other L.A.
The L.A. that doesn't exist
I mean, it might, but I'm trying to be kind here
In saying that it doesn't
Because it doesn't
And never did
But I'd rather not totally shatter your dreams
All in one sitting

So let's say it might possibly exist
Even thought it doesn't

You came here for movie star L.A.
And big break L.A.
And beautiful sex with beautiful people L.A.
And okay, maybe you got the last one
But you didn't get the first two
And you're not, you won't

Will you be happy?
Sure you'll be happy!
You're in L.A.
People write SONGS about this place
But don't you remember what you CAME here for?

That's the danger of this place
You completely lose your sense of purpose
You think you came here to work at a vegan restaurant
And date a guy named Chavo
Who works at a tattoo parlor

You think it's okay to get high on Tuesdays
And have a dinner party at 4am
And still wear Hollister jeans when you're forty
But it's not

It's not okay

This

This is not your L.A.

It's a lovely place
But it's not the place you wanted
And you need to remember that
You need to keep that in mind

Now, think about what I said

In the mean time

I'm going in the pool
Because it's December

And that is what we do here

A Really Good Date

"So you've been here for--"
"Four years."
"Four years, really?"
"Economics major at Brown."
"I'm a Philosophy major."
"Oh yeah?  Where?"
"Nowhere really.  I just philosophize in lots of different parks."
"I always go to parks!"
"No way!"
"Well, I mean, I walk by them.  Like, on my way to class and stuff."
"Oh."
"But I mean, we can't have both lived in Providence for four years without seeing each other, right?"
"Yeah, no way.  There's only, like, ten people in this entire city."
"Where are you from originally?"
"Toronto, you?"
"Nevada."
"People are, like, from Nevada?  Like, for real?"
"No, actually, I'm from Narnia.  I just people Nevada because it stops them from asking questions, but apparently, you're too smart for me."
"Now you have to kill me?"
"No, first I turn into a centaur, then I kill you."
"My God, you're sexy."
"This has been a good date."
"It has."
"A really, really, good date."
"I know."
"And you're leaving in--"
"Two days.  You?"
"Tomorrow at five."
"Pm?"
"Am?"
"Of course.  The Universe couldn't even give us Pm."
"Four years in the same city.  We meet two days before one of us leaves--"
"And go on an amazing date one day before one of us leaves to go to--"
"London for a year."
"And I'm going to be in Alaska for two."
"What are you going to do for two years in Alaska?"
"Philosophizing."
"Think, you could, you know, philosophize in London?"
"Ohhh..."
"They have nice parks."
"Are we really going there?  Like on the first date?"
"Well?"
"Some people don't even go there after a year together."
"Yeah, but, some people also spend their entire lives thinking about one great night they had right before they took off for somewhere else."
"I get the impression you're always taking off for somewhere else."
"I move a lot, yes.  Four years is, actually--well...it's been the most time I've spent in any one place.  And even then, I did a semester in Paris--"
"You like cliched European cities, huh?"
"I go to Brown.  They let you do anything.  My roommate freshman year was majoring in Theatrical Writing for Solo Performance."
"What does that mean?"
"Monologues."
"Just monologues?"
"I know, right?  How would you not kill yourself after a year of that?"
"It's amazing what people love."
"Yeah."
"I kinda love it here."
"I...it's been okay.  I've liked other places less, I guess."
"Hey, you don't have to agree with me on everything."
"No, I mean, it's great.  I just...There's never been A place, you know?  Never just one place that I felt...?"
"Home?"
"Like, what does that word even mean?  You know, it's like when people say 'soulmate.'  It's a nice idea, but...I don't know.  I don't know if I believe in it."
"Soulmates or home?"
"Aren't they supposed to be, like, the same thing?"
"Well, if I had to philosophize about that--"
"Oh God, you've been so good up to now!"
"Then let me shut up.  Most men ruin dates by talking."
"Did somebody say that?"
"I think I did just now."
"I mean, like, is that a quote?"
"It can be.  I can write it down on a piece of paper for you."
"You could come to London with me."
"And you could come to Alaska with me."
"I think one of those offers is much more appealing than the other."
"And where are you headed after London?"
"I don't know.  I never know.  That's the, you know, the fun of it."
"But where do you want to end up?  I mean, is there a goal in mind?  Eventually, you have to end up somewhere."
"I want to end up where I'm happy.  At happy.  I want to be happy.  When I'm happy I'll...stop."
"What about now?  Are you happy now?"
"Now?"
"Yeah.  With me.  Right now.  Are you happy?"
"Yes."
"So stop here."
"Here?"
"Yeah."
"In Providence?"
"Here with me.  Stop with me."
"Yeah, and then in two weeks, you don't work out, and then what?"
"You buy another ticket to London."
"They're expecting me at my internship by Friday."
"There'll be other internships."
"That's easy for the philosopher to say."
"Do you think you'll ever get tired of it?"
"Tired of what?  The internship?"
"The moving."
"I think by that point it'll hard to tell what it is I'm tired of.  Actually, I think I may already be at that point."
"This has been a really good date."
"Yes, it has."
"You going to miss me?"
"I don't even know you."
"So you'll miss me more?"
"I'll miss you...there's no word to say in what way or how much or...because it's...Yes.  I'll miss you."
"It's cruel, you know?  Four years.  We probably ran into each other, or close to each other, like, a million times.  And then when it's...now...we meet, and...man, it sucks."
"But at least we met, you know?  We might not have."
"Yeah, and there's Facebook and e-mail and shit, but still, four years?  We could have had four years.  Or two years or--something.  We could have had something."
"I think we just did, right?"
"Yeah.  Maybe we did."

Today You Are a Man

Hurray, Hurray
Celebrate today
Today is a good day
Today you are a man

Today you change the tires
Today you change the oil
Today you change your socks
Today you change a twenty
Today you change directions
Today you are a man

You will attend a football game
You will ascend to higher heights
You will drink until you pass out
You will get into a fight
You will buy things you can't afford
You will memorize the names of wrestlers
You will slap a thousand asses
You will belch, and fuck, and procreate
Today you are a man

In a month you'll have a girlfriend
In a year, you'll have a wife
In fifteen months, you'll have a baby
Then another, then another
In four years, you'll have a house
That you never will pay off
But don't worry about that today
Today you are a man

Idolize your father
Adore your mother
Compete with your mother
Look down on your sister
Revere anyone older than your parents
Condescend to anyone younger than you
These things are important to do
Today you are a man

People will tell you
That roles are shifting
Jobs are transferring
Power is morphing
But they lie, they lie to you

Things are not different
People are not different
A dick is a dick
And everything that is not a dick
Is not worth of your attention
You have better things to do
Today you are a man

Today you install a furnace
Today you unclog the pipes
Today you screw a hooker
Today you make things right

Today is the day
You've been dreading
For your entire life

Hurray, Hurray
Today's the day
Today you are a man

God help you
Today you are a man

If I Could Go to Your Wedding

If I could go to your wedding
I'd have them play that Frank Sinatra song
That you and I used to dance to
When we'd go to the Father/Daughter dances
At your school

Who knows why they played such an old song
At a Father/Daughter dance

Oh wait, I know
Because I paid them to
That's why

Every father should get to dance
To Frank Sinatra
With his daughter

'Some day when I'm awfully low...'

If I could go to your wedding
I'd help that schmuck you're marrying
Tie his tie
And tell him if he hurts you
I'll introduce his kidneys to his nostrils

But really, I think he's an okay guy

Doesn't mean I don't want him scared of me

Nowadays son-in-laws and father-in-laws hug
And golf together
And there's no distinguishing them
From father and son

When I married your mother
Your grandfather said to me

'You're going to fear me until I'm dead
And that's just how I want it.'

Lucky for me, he died a year later
Of a heart attack

I saw him last week
Talking to Dean Martin

He said--You still afraid of me?

I said--Mr. Rigazzo, you're dead, I'm dead
What's to be afraid of?

He gave me a look
And I realized
Even when you're dead
You fear your father-in-law
That's how it's supposed to be

If I could go to your wedding
I'd tell your mother to stop crying so much
Because she's embarrassing herself
But then I'd take her hand
And kiss the spot where her wedding ring is

She's still wearing it, huh?

Do me a favor
Tell her to stop wearing black
We get it, she's a widow
But she's not doing me any favors
By dressing like a member of the Addams Family

Tell her to throw on some blue
When your mother puts on a blue dress
No woman on this planet
Can compare

If I could go to your wedding
I'd walk you down the aisle
Instead of my brother, the clutz
Who may or may not trip
Before he reaches the altar

I'm just kidding, kiddo
It's good of him to take my place

Good that you still have a father figure in your life
Even if he does have two left feet
And still owes me thirty dollars
From a bet we made two weeks before I died

Maybe he'll put it in your card

If I could go to your wedding
I'd make a toast
And I'd say--

'To my little girl, on the happiest day of her life.  I know I wasn't always the best father, but half of parenting is raising your kids and the other half is spent waiting for them to forgive you for the terrible job you did.  Thank you for allowing me the privilege of doing the first half, and for allowing the second half to come so soon when other kids might have made me wait a few more years.  I love you, sweetheart.'

Oh, but you're lovely...

I understand the schmuck's dad
Offered to do the Father/Daughter dance with you

That's nice

He's a good man
Even if he did raise a schmuck
That I don't entirely dislike

Nobody's perfect

When you dance with him
I'm going to do something
We're not supposed to do
But ay, what the hell

I'm going to take over for him
He won't even notice

When you're alive, you call it zoning out
But what it really is
Is somebody who's not here anymore
Wanting to feel what it's like
Inside a living body again

Truth be told, we don't miss it that much
Once we remember what it feels like
All the aches and pains

But I'll suffer them for a few minutes
So I can have that dance with you

And when you ask the band leader
Who paid him twenty bucks
To play Frank Sinatra
He'll say it was some old guy
Who told him to tuck in his shirt
So he wouldn't look like such a putz

And you'll smile
And you'll nod
And under your breath you'll say--

'Thank you, Daddy'

And I'll say--

'You're welcome, sweetheart.

You're welcome.'

Women of Antarctica

The women of Antarctica
Have sent the men away
Claiming they need better food
And medicine
When really
They're just sick of looking at them

As soon as the boats
Go past the first glacier
The women let out a whoop
And they dance around in a circle

Grabbing their daughters' hands
And promising that from now on
The workload will be heavier
But the rewards will be greater

They notice their sons
Standing back, away from them
And they call them forward
Place their hands on the boys' shoulders
And say--

'You will be different from your fathers'

The women get to work
On lighting better fires
And fishing where they know
There are bigger fish

They have kept these secrets to themselves
So as to convince the men
That the situation was dire

They tell stories
They've never been allowed to tell
About other women
That the men believed were forgotten

Their mothers, and grandmothers
And aunts, and lost daughters

The men knew the dangers
Of history

And so they forbid the women
From talking about those
Who came before them
And instead made them listen
To stories about men

The fathers who beat them
The grandfathers who beat them
The uncles and brothers who did even worse

They will still tell stories about these men
Because they do not want anything to be forgotten
Because forgetting could be more dangerous
That what is forgotten

They pull all the huts closer together

The men enjoy living in isolation
But the women now want to feel
A sense of community
For themselves and their children

They eat and laugh
And stay up late in the night
Naming things
In the Arctic sky
That never had names before

Every now and again
One of them will ask
What will happen
When the men return, if they do

And someone else always says--

'When they come back, we will be waiting for them'

Nobody asks what that means
Because they understand
It means many different things

But they all know
That it's true

That the one thing they are now
That they were not before
Is ready

Crazy After Christmas

Rhonda, why you gotta be crazy
After Christmas?

You had all Christmas
To be crazy

I was expecting it
I was anticipating it
I even bought an extended hose
For the sink
In case I needed to spray you in the living room
Because you keep trying to play 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' on your oboe
And it keeps sounding like a pelican
Trying to eat a baby seal

Brandi!

Brandi, you better not be trying to sneak out
With the receipt
For that coffee maker I bought you

Yes, it's broken, Brandi
I broke it

I pushed the Decaf button in so hard
That now it'll only make decaf
Because decaf is all you should be drinking
Because I'm sick of having a roommate
Who stays up until four in the morning
Calling out answers
On DVR-ed episodes of 'Wheel of Fortune'

You don't have insomnia
You have stupidia
That's what's keeping you up

Ignorance is loud, Brandi
It is loud and inexplicably proud

Tina

Tina

Tina

Stop yelling at me, Tina

I threw out the fruitcake
Because half of it was ham
And half of it was something
That looked like it got sneezed out
Of a giraffe's nose

But NONE of it was fruit
And I don't care if your mother did give it to us
That woman hates you
And she's probably trying to kill you

I gave a piece of that fruitcake to Brandi
And next thing I know
She's licking the tv
And yelling out 'I'm buying a vowel!  I'm buying a vowel!'

Cindy, stop showing off that stupid necklace
Your boyfriend got for you

He paid ten bucks for it
On Clearance
At Target

What do you mean
How do I know that?

Because Brandi works at Target
And he asked her for a discount

A discount on a CLEARANCE item

Plus, the sticker was still on the box
When you opened it

Don't act like you didn't see it

Oh, now she's crying

Tina, don't yell at me
For making her cry

I didn't make her cry
The truth made her cry

Why y'all got to be crazy after Christmas?

We have a nice, happy holiday
And then you all gotta ruin it
By washing the next day
In all your insanity

I'm going out somewhere quieter than here
A bus station maybe
Or a mall parking garage

Y'all can be crazy by yourselves

But remember this
New Year's is coming

And I expect you all
To make some resolutions

Change your lives
Change your minds
Change your pants

Do some laundry

I feel like I'm living
With the Ensemble
From Rent

Lord, I didn't ask for anything for Christmas

All I wanted was to wake up
In a quiet house
With a package of Oreos on the coffee table
And the tv playing 'Intervention'

Instead you gave me crazy people
And 'Wheel of Fortune'

Just tell me next year's going to be better, Lord
Just tell me that

BRANDI!

Rhonda's oboe is not a pogo stick!

Why does Christmas only have to come
Once a year?

The First Part of the Biography

Mr. Lewis, I've been given the first half
Of your autobiography
To edit

Oh, don't be frightened
Tristan's still handling the second half of the book

Why did we split it up
You might ask?

Well, you see
We split up all our autobiographies here, Mr. Lewis

One of us handles the first half
And the other handles the interesting half

No, Mr. Lewis
I didn't misspeak

Oh, I mean
I did misspeak

If anybody at the publishing company
Head me tell our biggest project for the Fall
That only half his book is interesting
They'd fire me in a heartbeat

But I plan on quitting anyway after this book
So it really doesn't matter

I'm quitting because I'm tired of reading the boring halves
Of every book EVER

Oh, don't feel bad, Mr. Lewis
Most autobiographies are fairly boring
Until the author gets around
To finishing up
Talking about his or her boring childhood
And teenage years
And the genesis story
Of how their parents met
And the farm--

There's always a farm for some reason

Do you have any idea
How many farms I've read about
Over the past five years?

Farm after farm after farm

I have never met ANYBODY
That has lived or even spent extended time on
A farm
And yet
Every book I read

--A farm

It's mystifying to me

The publisher knows
That books are like this
So the senior editor
Gets to read the good half

Where the story really gets going
And there's intrigue
And a career
And scandal

And I read about what third grade was like for you
And cut as much as humanly possible
Then break the news to you
While you curse me
And bless that beloved Tristan
Who isn't cutting anything
Because you gave him all the good stuff

Do you want to know how unnecessary
The first part of your autobiography is, Mr. Lewis?

Or the first part of ANY autobiography
For that matter

Tristan never talks to me
EVER

He doesn't need to
He never has to ask
What happened
In the first part of the book
Because the second part
Usually stands on its own
Just fine

So there you go

Half of what you've written is pointless
And we will cut as much as we possibly can
Until you threaten to murder me
And then the publisher will cut a little more
And hope you were bluffing

Don't you realize what people want to read about, Mr. Lewis?

Aren't you aware that people
Readers, I mean
Don't care about the farm
Or third grade
Or what your grandmother's pancakes tasted like?

We want to hear about what happened
When you testified in that murder trial
That's all

Hell, your book doesn't even need to be a book
It should be a magazine article
It should be a brochure

But the problem is
You can't charge as much
For those

Those don't pay as well

So instead, we let you write a book
And we sift through all the shit
No reader will

Because they'll just flip to the good parts
And then donate the book
To their local library

But we, your publisher and editors
Have to dress the whole thing up
So that you're happy
Because otherwise
You'll take your fifteen good pages
And your two hundred pages of fluff
To somebody else

So there you go, Mr. Lewis

That's the book business

And please, tell me how your book turns out

I'm going to the bookstore right now
To read the second halves
Of all the books
I helped edit

My mind is full of unfinished stories
And I'm confident
That it's helping to drive me insane

Then, after I'm done
Shoving all that nonsense
Into my head

I'm going to see a man
About buying a farm

Evil Twin

Do you find yourself wishing you could say something

Mean and nasty

But stopping yourself

Because you made a New Year's resolution

Not to be an evil bitch this year?

Well, don't worry

We here at Social-Core

Know how you feel

And so we've come up with a new service

That's bound to make your life a lot easier

And someone else's

Living Hell

Introducing--Evil Twin

The new Social Networking tool

That is going to change the way

You live your life

And, at the same time

Act in a way that would be considered

Unhealthy and unstable

For just fifty dollars a week

We will assign you an 'Evil Twin'

(No, they won't look anything like you

It's just a catchy name)

This Evil Twin will become a part of your life

He will follow you around

Go out to clubs and bars with you

And say and do

Everything

You want to

But don't

Because you don't want people to hate you

Need someone to tell your ex-girlfriend

That she's a selfish whore

Who should be sent back to biblical times

When they knew how to deal

With people like her?

Evil Twin will say it

Need someone to go out to Friday's after work

And tell your co-worker

That his breath is eight percent proof?

Evil Twin will say it

Need someone to go out with you

And slap whatever asshole at the bar

Keeps giving you dirty looks

Because you're skinnier than they are?

(See?  We make you feel better about yourself too!

Because you're not really that skinny...)

We'll take over and create all the drama

You don't want to cause

Because you still value your friendships

And pre-existing relationships

We'll slash your ex-boyfriend's tires

While he's at the house

Of whatever streetwalker he's dating now

We'll throw a drink in the face

Of that girl who started a rumor about you

While you hang back in the corner

Because you quote--don't respond to rumors

And--don't believe in violence

You may not--haha--but Evil Twin does

And you don't even have to let people know

We ARE your Evil Twin

In fact, it's probably better if you don't

Decry us

Deny us

And then when you go home

Call us and gives us instructions

For the next day

Oh, and have your credit card ready

We guarantee that you'll never feel angry

Or bitter

Or pent up again

Because you'll have somebody

Doing everything

You want to do

But won't

Because you're still on parole

From the last time you--

Well, let's not dredge up the past

Just call Evil Twin

And we'll ship yours right over

Evil Twin

So that you can be the good person

You've always wanted to be

And leave the rest

Up to us

What We Promised in the Summer

To learn cooking

The basics of cooking

Knife skills first

Then, at some point

In the distant future

A distant future

We probably should have reached by now

We'd attempt...pie

To write poetry

To understand poetry

To just appreciate poetry

To climb hills

And mountains

And bikes

And ride mountain, you know, bikes

To hike

To stop smoking

To cut back on drinking

To let nails and hair grow

A little bit longer

To keep in touch

To do better

At keeping in touch

We promised that in an age

Of technology and effortless correspondence

Keeping in touch

Should be an easy task to master

And yet...

We made these promises

On beaches

At beach houses

At parties where the decorations

Were paper lanterns

And cardboard cartoon cut-outs

Of smiling suns

We made these promises in late July

In early August

During that perfect hour

That you only get in the summer

A lingering hour

I guess you could call it

When it seems like the sun's begging the moon

To stay up just a little bit longer

To see what'll happen

When the night finally begins

We promised things by writing them down

Sealing them in bottles

And throwing them into lakes

Not realizing that lakes freeze

When winter comes around

We promised through laughter

And so our promises were broken up

By our own happiness

We promised to visit

To work out

To become more assertive

To read more

To talk on the phone

To do things in person with people

Instead of just e-mailing them

To no longer fear getting on a plane

To stop thinking that five hours is a long drive

To not worry so much about money and time

We wrote all these things down

And then put them in a drawer

And forgot about them

So we could go outside

And chase each other around in the sand

And in the rain

And in that lingering hour

And now summer is...

Four months ago?

Just four months ago?

It seems like so much longer

Hours don't linger anymore

They are one thing or another

Day or Night

Long or Short

Harsh or Hazy

And we can't remember

Which drawer we put the promises in

And we can't remember

Why we were supposed to quit smoking

And we can't remember

The last time we spoke

Or wanted to speak

To each other

When summer left

It took so much with it

Perhaps it took our promises too

Perhaps it swept them up

Under its arms

And carried them off and away

Into a late, late August night

Choosing a Winner

Sleeping with me would change your life
Wouldn't it?

It would give you a tremendous self-esteem boost
That you could probably feed off of for years
Am I right?

Strange how just a few years ago
Sleeping with me would have been an action of pity

And now...

Lose some weight
Move to L.A.
Make a few movies
Come back home
And suddenly attitudes have changed

No more pity
Not that it did me any good the first time

I should tell you that I'm not going to sleep with you
Not because I hold any grudge towards you
For not sleeping with me
Back when I was a big, fat nobody

But because I think it's important
To teach you the value
Of choosing a winner

I should explain--

Two weeks ago
I was sitting next to someone on a plane
Who, if you can believe it
Was even more unattractive
Than I was when you rejected me

I chatted with that person
We stopped for drinks at one of those
Airport bars

Then we got a hotel room
And we had sex

I did it on the provision
That it would not be a one-time thing
And we could stay in touch
And when schedules coalesced
We would do it again

They agreed
And were thrilled
That not only did I deem them worthy of sex once
But perhaps multiple times

What they didn't realize
Is that I knew who they were
Or rather, who they would be

That person was a winner
You see, I'm incredibly good
At choosing a winner

Ironically, I knew I was a winner
Back when you turned me down
But I couldn't tell you that
Obviously

Instead I just held out the hope
That one day we'd be sitting here

And I could help
Impart this lesson to you

Learn how to choose a winner

It's an incredibly valuable skill

That person I had sex with
Will always feel a debt of gratitude to me
And one day they'll be more famous than I am

And we'll still be having sex
Whereas you and I will not be having sex

But I appreciate the fact
That you want to

Believe me

I really appreciate it

You're a great person

Not the greatest judge of character
But who knows?

Maybe that'll change

But not tonight

Definitely not tonight

Friends and Allies

The thing is, Z, that--
You and I
Are friends

Best friends, right?
The best?

And the thing is
It's always been one of those
Sort of
Stereotypical
Gay man/Straight woman relationship

Which is fine
Doesn't mean it's wrong
Unhealthy, maybe
But friendship, at its core
Isn't just a little bit unhealthy?

And we work in the same field
And that's been fun
We have our work
In common
To talk about

We share things

And up until now
I've felt okay about that
I've felt comfortable
With that

But today I realized
That it's a mistake

That it's all been a mistake

I know you're the one who outed Pearson
And even though he and I are not friends
He happens to be
The only thing I respect more than a friend

He's my job

He's my money, my livelihood

Today, Z, you fucked with my money
And I can't chance you doing that again

You've been making a mistake all these years too, you know
You just didn't know it

You thought we were the same
You and I

That we were on the same team

We are not, Z
We are not on the same team

Pearson is on my team
Some of my worst enemies
Are on my team
It's partly a means of keeping them close
But at the end of the day
It's just that they share a common experience with me
That you and I could never share

If you want the truth
All women think they're allied with gay men
But you're not
None of you
Are our allies

Friends, yes
Sometimes
But not allies

But you are no longer my friend, Z
And you never were my ally
And that means that right now
You're in a very vulnerable position

It was all fun and cute
When we were on opposing sides
And everybody was playing fair

But now we have something
Quite different on our hands
Don't we?

Now that you showed your hand

It was a good hand, too, Z
It was a really good hand
But you see
The one person you never want
On the other side of a table from you
Is someone who used to know you
Better than anybody else

And that's me

Your candidate may be clean
As far as I can tell
But we both know you're not

Your candidate's still pro-life, isn't he?

I haven't checked the web in the past hour
But I'm assuming his platform hasn't changed that much

I have to protect the guy on my team, Z
Your mistake was not picking a friend
Who would protect you
Because you'd be on theirs

Nothing is stronger than someone's ultimate
Core loyalty

For some it's family
Or God
Or sex

Mine is money
Money and that shared experienced
That you could never understand

But let me do this for you

Let me get the check

I have a feeling money's going to be tight for you
From here on in

Walking to the Light

"Hey."
"Hey."
"You get good tips tonight?"
"Lousy."
"That sucks."
"I only had three customers."
"Probably 'cause of the storm."
"Sometimes you get a storm rush."
"Really?"
"Yeah, sometimes.  People go out for one last, you know, before they're trapped in their house for three days."
"Yeah, that's true."
"How was the bar tonight?"
"Packed."
"See?"
"It's always packed.  Drunks need to drink.  If we opened up tomorrow in the middle of the blizzard, they'd shovel their way in through the window."
"So you did good?"
"Yeah, we did all right."
"I should have stopped at the store."
"What do you need?"
"Soup."
"You like soup?"
"No, I hate soup.  But it's a blizzard.  You buy soup during a blizzard.  Soup and bottled water."
"So you're not going to eat the soup?"
"No, I'll eat it.  Once it starts snowing I'll be in the mood for it."
"I don't get it."
"It's what snow does to you.  Makes you feel like eating soup and watching four movies in a row, like it's normal behavior."
"I have soup at my place."
"I'm not going all the way over to your place just to get soup."
"Why don't you just stay there?"
"Because it's going to snow.  I'd get trapped."
"Or you could just stay."
"But..."
"I mean, you know, unless it's a trap."
"I meant--"
"If you'd feel trapped there."
"That's not what I meant."
"I just thought, you know, why be alone, right?  There's going to be a blizzard.  We're both going to be in our apartments, for, you know, three days or whatever.  Why not--keep each other company?"
"Where would I--?"
"I have another bedroom.  For when my daughter comes to visit.  I can stay in there, you can take my bed."
"I..."
"I'd just like the company, you know?  Wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, I would.  But I have a phone.  I can call people if I get lonely.  I can call you."
"It's not the same."
"No, but--"
"You know, never mind.  I'm sorry.  It's crazy of me."
"It's not--"
"To just, like, invite you over for a few days.  That's nuts.  I'm sorry."
"It's not nuts.  It's okay.  But I mean, we walk to the light together after work every night, and then I go down my street and you go down your street, and that's it.  We don't know that much about each other except that we both hate our jobs.  Now you want to spend three days together.  We've never spent more than five minutes together, if that."
"The way I see it is, we've got a fifty-fifty chance of having a good time."
"See I see it like this:  We have a thirty percent chance of having a good time, a thirty percent chance of having a weird time, and a thirty percent chance of having an awful time."
"And what's the other ten percent?"
"I don't know.  Unknown."
"So let's do it for that then.  For the unknown."
"Look--"
"I'm not a serial killer or anything.  You can tell because serial killers are usually handsome."
"Haha, stop."
"If it ends up being an awful time, I'll shovel you back to your apartment myself.  Or I'll have one of the Drunks come by and do it.  I'll promise them free drinks if they can make a tunnel between your place and mine."
"You really want to do this, huh?"
"Yeah, I really do."

. . . . .

"Let me run home and get a chance of clothes.  My toothbrush, and stuff."
"Okay."
"And you got soup?"
"I got soup."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"What kind?"
"Uh, like, chicken noodle?  Tomato, I think?"
"Okay.  That'll work.  And you got spoons?"
"Yes!  I have spoons.  What do you think I am?  A degenerate?"
"Want me to meet you back at your place?"
"Tell you what:  Why don't I just walk with you?"
"To my place then back to yours?  That's--"
"You gotta do it, don't you?"
"Yeah, but--"
"So I'll do it too.  I'll walk with you.  That all right?"
"Yeah.  Yeah, that's all right."
"Besides, it'll give us a chance to talk some more."

That Laugh

That laugh, that--
Well, more like a squeal

The one she does
When you lift her up
And spin her around?

I hope she keeps that laugh forever

I hope that ducks and dump trucks
Never cease to fascinate her

And that pointed party hats
Always rest perfectly
On the top of her head

I want her to always get excited
About chocolate cake
And fireworks
And puppies

I want splashing to constantly take her by surprise
I want her to cry whenever I drop her off anywhere
So I have an excuse to drive around the block once
And then come back to spy on her wherever she is until it's time to pick her up

Her band-aids should always have kittens on them
Her cereal should always have a cartoon on the front of it
Her hair should always be in pigtails
And her bed should always have a canopy over it

When she wants something from me
I always want her to tug on my shirt
So I have to bend down
To let her whisper it in my ear

I want everything she says to me
To be a secret
From the world

I want her to be the flower girl at every wedding
The soloist at every recital
And first person to wake up
On a day when something exciting is going to happen

I never want to see her
See a pile of leaves
And not leap into it

I never want her to see me
And act as if she just saw me
A few hours ago
Even if she did

I want a sweeping hug
Every time
As if I've just returned from war

I want to see every project
Drawing, doodle, scribble
And diorama

And I want to put them all
Up on my fridge

But most of all
I want that laugh

I want that laugh
That squeal
That eruption of joy

To stick around
Forever

She Doesn't Care

She doesn't care if the bed gets made or not

She doesn't notice if you're around or not

She doesn't give a damn where you are at night

And when you don't come home
She falls asleep just fine

She doesn't care if the dishes fill the sink

And she doesn't know what to say
Or do
Or think

So she vacuums and hums

While you're out doing God-knows-what
She's on the couch
Doing her nails

I worry more about you
Then she does now

And I've been gone so long
I don't even count

But sometimes I stop

Think about how you could be half-dead
And she'd be in bed
With a paperback novel

Flipping a page
While you flip your car

Two days later, she'd be saying
You were too far gone to help

And maybe she'd be right

But it bothers me
That she doesn't care

She doesn't care if the credit cards get charged
She doesn't care if the oil gets changed
She doesn't care if the cat gets fed
Or sink gets fixed
Or if you come along on holidays
To her family's place

She likes having you around
But she doesn't need you
In her life

You can just float around her life
Like a dying star

She doesn't care if the milk in the fridge goes bad
Or if you settle up your debts
Or if fun is had

She just watches you spin
And when it gets to be too much
She puts a drink in your hand
Like putting a toy
In a toddler's palm

Just because it'll shut you up

Silly me

I tried to keep you talking

About how to make it better
About what might help
About us

I should have just turned on the vacuum
And poured myself a drink

I should have just stopped caring
About you

Who would have thought
That would be the easiest thing
To do

Tony Hooper Saves Christmas

Hi, my name is Tony Hooper
And I'm in the fourth grade

First of all, you should know that my grandpa
Papa Hooper
Loved Christmas more than anybody else
In the whole world

Every year at Christmas
We'd all sit at the dining room table
And Papa Hooper would make us go around
And say what Christmas means to us

My Dad would say--Christmas means time off from work
And my Mom would say--Christmas means a nice dinner...catered by someone else
And my brother Harry would say--Christmas means hope...the hope that one day Felicia Fliksado will realize that she and I are meant to be together.

Then my grandpa would look at me and say--

'Well, Tony, what do you think Christmas means?'

And I'd always say the wrong answer.

'Christmas means Blood Savage 5 is coming out tonight.  This time blood smells like...revenge.'
'Christmas means by tomorrow morning I'll be playing Guns and Glory and talking to Fat Pants on my new iPhone.'
'Christmas means once again giving Aunt Cindy the 'No-of-course-i-like-this-ugly-cardigan' face.'

And every year, Papa Hooper would laugh
And shake his head
And say 'Maybe next year, Tony.  When you're a little bit older.'

That's my first of all

Second of all, I should tell you
That Papa Hooper isn't spending Christmas with us this year

Over the summer, he got real sick
And right before I went back to school
He passed away
Which means he died

It took awhile for my Mom to explain that to me
Because she kept saying stuff like--

'He's moved on'

Moved on to where, I said?
Canada?

(I hear it's nice up there.)

That's my second of all

'It's going to be a hard Christmas this year,' my Mom said this morning, while she was showing the caterers where to put the stuffed mushrooms, 'And it's your sister's first.'

I was already expecting it to be a sad Christmas
Since with a new baby in the family
My present count was going to go down, down, down

At least my sister Tina is a girl
So I don't have to share stuff with her

She was the only one smiling at the dinner table
When my Dad cleared his throat
And said we should go around and say
What Christmas means to us

It got real quiet

Like, you know when they say silence is deafening?

Well, I wasn't deaf
I could still hear Mrs. Tanner across the street
Yelling at her husband
For forgetting to buy the right kind of ham

'I can't do this,' said my Mom, 'It's too sad without him here.'

I think we were all thinking that
But nobody wanted to say it

Then I looked at my sister
And she wasn't smiling anymore

Even though she was only a baby
She could probably tell
How sad we all were

And that's when I knew the answer

'We can't ruin Christmas for Tina,' I said, 'Papa wouldn't want that.  He loved Christmas.  He'd want us to be happy and remember how much fun we all had together.  If we wanted to, we could make every Christmas about somebody who's not here anymore.  Great Aunt Mary.  Uncle Bo.  Great-Grandma Lucy with that eye that never really looked where it was supposed to.  But we don't do that.  We've never done that.  We make Christmas about who's here, and we keep the people who aren't in our hearts.  That's what Christmas means.  It means being happy for the people who are here, not sad for the people who are gone.'

Then I went under the tree
Picked out the present I made for Tina
And brought it to her high chair

It was a picture of all of us last Christmas
When Mom was pregnant with Tina
And I was sitting next to Papa Hooper
And it was before he got sick
And we all looked so happy

I put the photo in a frame
Made out of Popsicle sticks

On the bottom I wrote--

'To Tina, This is Your Family'

I wanted her to see
How happy we were
She was going to spend next Christmas
With us

My family all looked at the photo
And then my Mom clapped her hands together

'Well,' she said, 'Those caterers didn't slave over a hot stove all day for nothing.  Let's eat.'

Then my Dad picked up Tina
And did that thing he does
Where he pretends to eat her ear
And she laughs
Even though I think it's pretty horrifying

Pretty soon everybody was laughing
And eating

And I thought to myself--

I wonder if there's a reason it took me this long
To figure out the meaning of Christmas

Maybe the answer came to me
Right on time

Or maybe
While I was listening to Mrs. Tanner throw a pot at her husband
My grandpa whispered the answer into my ear

Either way, I'm glad I saved Christmas

I think Papa Hooper
Would have been really proud

That's my third of all

Oh, and as for Third of All Part B

Merry Christmas
From the Hoopers

Why You Can't Have Kids

"Mrs. Montgomery, nice to see you."
"Nice to see you, too, Doctor.  I'm assuming you got the test results in?"
"Yes, we did, and I'm happy to say that we've discovered the reason you're having trouble conceiving."
"Oh God, is it me, Doctor?  Is it my fault?"
"No, I'm afraid the problem lies with your husband."
"It's Bruce?  Oh no."
"I'm afraid so."
"His...(Some sort of uncomfortable hand motion.)...are...defective?"
"Oh no, that's not it."
"It's not?"
"(Chuckles.)  No, not at all.  He's just gay."
"Oh well--wait, what?"
"He's a homosexual.  That's why you haven't been able to have a baby."
"Doctor, my husband is not a homosexual."
"Well, I'm sorry, Mrs. Montgomery, but the tests say otherwise."
"My husband and I have...relations quite frequently."
"Yes, but lucky for you, your body has a special kind of conditioning.  It's called Preventative Future Trauma Conditioning.  Basically, it prevents you from conceiving a child with a man under deceptive circumstances.  In layman's terms, your body doesn't want you having a child that will one day be traumatized when they walk in on Daddy and their soccer coach."
"Doctor, my husband is not gay and if he's capable of having children then I want to have one with him!"
"I'm sorry, but it's impossible.  This is a situation where your body knows more than you do.  It can sense the homosexuality radiating off of him like the innocence off a baby's head."
"My husband can assure you he is a heterosexual."
"He doesn't need to assure me.  It's your ovaries he needs to assure."
"I don't understand!"
"It's evolution, Mrs. Montgomery.  With so many closeted gay men in the world, marrying women, and creating families, our biological selves had to do something to stop the disasters that arise when these men finally come to terms with who they are."
"So you're saying--"
"Biological gaydar, Mrs. Montgomery.  And you're one of the first patients I've seen with it.  Congratulations."
"But I WANT to have a baby."
"Then I suggest divorcing your gay husband."
"HE'S NOT GAY!"
"Then why aren't you pregnant?"
"You're the doctor, Doctor!  You tell me!"
"I did tell you.  His gay sperm simply don't appeal to your reproductive system.  I mean, they like hanging out and stuff but they're just not into each other."

(She stands.)

"I'm going to sue you."
"Go right ahead.  I have proof that'll back up my diagnosis.  We have x-rays showing his sperm sitting right outside your ovaries."
"What are they doing there?"
"We can't be sure, but it appears as if they're ice skating."
"All right, that's quite enough.  You'll be hearing from my lawyer."
"Is he gay too?"
"No, he's--I mean, he might be, but that's not the point!"
"He's your husband's brother, isn't he?"
"That proves nothing!"

(As she heads for the door--)

"Mrs. Montgomery?"
"Yes?"
"Your husband isn't running for political office by any chance, is he?"
"..........."
"Thought so."

Then Dial Nine

Hi!  You've reached the Hampstead Hill Offices
In Hampstead Hill
The South Bradley Branch
Third Division

Thanks for calling!

Right now, we're all out of the office
For the holidays
But feel free to leave a message

For a company directory
Press 1

Or just keep listening
Because we're going to read you
A company directory anyway

If you need to reach Sales
Press 2

If you need to reach Marge in Sales
Press 2 and then 1
And then say 'Bobcat'
Because Marge is paranoid
That the government is after her

If you need to reach Accounting
Press 3
Then punch in how much you're worth
If you don't dial at least seven numbers
Accounting probably won't return your calls
So you might want to...embellish
A little bit

If you need to reach HR
You have to come down here
And bust down the door
At which point you'll find
That HR is just a stuffed dinosaur
Sitting on a stack of phonebooks
Watching an episode of 'Who's the Boss?'

If you need to reach Payroll
To find out when you'll be paid
Then dial 4
And you'll hear a recording
Telling you
That you're fired

If you need to reach Jerry in Marketing
Jerry's dead
Freak stapler accident
So there ya go
You don't need to reach Jerry

If you need to reach anybody else in Marketing
Well...Jerry was the only guy in Marketing
So...there ya go
No Marketing

If you have any other questions
Then dial nine
Wait for a beep
And state your question

It will be ejected into space
Dead space
A space where unanswered questions
Are jettisoned
And never answered

And some day
An explorer
A space explorer
Perhaps a half-man/half-monkey
Will find your question
And attempt to answer it

Maybe it'll be soon
But...I doubt it

In the meantime, have a happy holiday
And from all of us here at Hampstead Hills

Remember to--

Beep

Just Because You're Rich

You think it means something
That you're rich?

Well it does...

...And it doesn't

It doesn't mean you have style
Or substance
Or something extra
That the rest of us
Don't have

Just because you're rich
There are still things you can't buy

An intellect
A charming smile
Your boyfriend's loyalty

Just because you have a nice house
Where you can throw dinner parties
And have friends over
And take photos with everybody holding wine
And smirking at the camera
That doesn't mean that in ten years
You won't be all alone
Scrolling down your Facebook timeline
Wondering what happened

What happened is this:

You'll get old
Very old
And money won't stop that
And it won't stop your looks
From falling off you
Like a glass jar off a poorly built shelf

And ultimately, though money can keep one or two gold-diggers around
For a few years
Even gold-diggers want their checking account
To belong to someone
They can parade around a little

Money can't keep hair on your head
Or fat off your front
Or your pecs from turning into breasts
Or your forehead from falling down onto your face
And if you try to correct any of this
Everyone will know
And then you'll that guy

The guy who got--gasp--surgery

You can have the nicest things
And go on the nicest vacations
And present yourself as someone
Who really has their shit together

But the fact is--

You can't spell
You don't read
And one day you're going to be the fifty-year-old guy
At the concert full of fourteen-year-olds
And that's going to be really fucking creepy

So you can keep buying furniture
And cars
And a house
And all the costumes you want

You can make everyday Halloween
And you can show up at the party
As the guy who isn't a fucking mess
Underneath all the hundred dollar bills

But the thing about trash is
No matter how much you pile on top of it
The stink still rises up

And I can already smell you
A mile away

So yeah, it's great that you're rich
It certainly doesn't hurt

But as far as what it means?

Well it doesn't mean much

It doesn't mean you're worth
Anything

Why Ryan Gosling Broke Up a Perfectly Good Marriage

I broke up the marriage
As you probably heard
Because I looked at this woman
This truly beautiful woman
And I thought to myself
I must have her

Then I noticed the ring on her finger
And I realized she must be married
Which meant I was going to have to tell her I loved her
Or she might be a bit hesitant about sleeping with me

So I did that monologue that I did from--
Like, some movie or something

And that was really all it took
Marriage destroyed

Now, I might seem like a bad person to you
But if you think about it
There's really no loser here

I got what I wanted
She got to sleep with Ryan Gosling
And her husband gets to tell people
That he lost his wife to Ryan Gosling
Which, if you think about it
Is really nothing to be ashamed of

Some of you might say--

Did you have to break up a perfectly good marriage like that?

And my answer is--

No, I didn't have to

But she also didn't have to agree to sleep with me

I mean, I knew she was going to
Because I'm Ryan Gosling
And we live in a celebrity-obsessed culture
Where people like me
Can get pretty much whatever we want

I mean, you think she slept with me because I'm hot
Which is true
But it doesn't have as much to do with that
As you'd think

The truth is
It's because I'm a celebrity

If I were this hot
She might consider leaving her husband
But at the end of the day
She'd stay with him
Because their marriage was really solid

Being famous is what pushed her over the edge

The truth is--any celebrity could have ruined that marriage

Paul Giamatti could have ruined that marriage
Philip Seymour Hoffman could have ruined that marriage
Oliver Platt could have slept with her and the husband at the same time
And both of them would have been thrilled about it

It just so happens that I was the one
Who happened to come along
And for that, they should both be grateful

The fact is that no marriage is strong enough
To withstand the glow and glimmer
Of Ryan Gosling

Why do you think I'm not mentioned in the marriage vows?

It's because even if you asked the Lord and Savior
What you should do
If you're happily married
And I come along
He'd tell you--

Do what you gotta do

Someone Else Said It

I'm about to blow your mind

Are you ready?

Everything I have ever told you
Was said by someone else
Was actually something I thought up

That's right

Every piece of advice
Every bit of wisdom
Everything I have ever said to you
That in any way impacted your life
In a positive manner
Was not, in fact, some memorable soundbyte
From Mark Twain
Or Albert Einsten
Or Plato

All of it
Came
From me

Why have I been doing this, you might ask

Why did I tell you
That all the help I've given you
Actually came from me, your friend
And not dead white guys?

Because for some inexplicable reason
You listen to the dead white guys
But you won't listen to me

I give you advice
And you dismiss it

I give you the same advice
And preface it with--

'...You know I heard this expert on tv the other day say--'

And suddenly you have a notebook out
And you're jotting down
Everything that comes out of my mouth

I don't know what it is
That makes you trust what I say
If you think someone else said it

Do you think I'm not smart?
Or sensible?
Or that I have your best interests at heart?

Why do you break up with your boyfriend
When I tell you to if I follow it up
With a fake quote by Gandhi?

Why would Gandhi know more about relationships than I do?
Gandhi never dated!

For years, I've been circumventing you
By attaching famous people
To my own thoughts
And I'm not doing it anymore

And actually
I'm offended I even had to do it in the first place!

WHY DON'T YOU TRUST ME?

Well, yes, I realize I've been lying to you
But aside from that!

From now on
I'm not giving you any advice at all

People who give advice to their friends
And expect them to take it
Is going to find that it melts in their hand
Before it lands on anyone's ear

Abraham Lincoln said that

No, of course he didn't
You idiot

God, I need new friends

Emo Boy Goes Caroling

Hey, I'm here to carol
And stuff

Like, what song do you want to hear?

'Jingle Bells?'

Oh my Gaia
That's sooo over-played

Like, it's probably the lamest song of all time
And anybody who sings it
Might as well wear a t-shirt that says
'I only like dumb stuff that everybody else likes'

But yeah, whatever
I guess I could sing it

Just don't ask me to sing 'Santa Claus is Comin' To Town'
Because it totally promotes the joining
Of morality and materialism
And it also tells kids that there's a fat old guy somewhere
With all their names and what they do
And where I'm from, we call that a pedophile

Also, don't ask me to sing 'Frosty the Snowman'
Because I think it's twisted
That we teach kids if you put hats on inanimate objects
Like snow, which isn't even an object
It'll come to life and play with you
Until it dies tragically
Thereby ruining your Christmas
Which is a totally bastardized holiday anyway

Hey, I could sing this song by this band
That you've probably never heard of
And if you have
Then you probably haven't heard the first version of it
That they premiered at this little club in Czechoslovakia
Like two days ago
And if you haven't heard that version
Then you really haven't heard it the way they want you to

It's called 'It's Not Snowing (The Sky's Bleeding Nothingness)'

Um, okay, fine
But it's like, way better than 'Rudolph'
Or whatever
Because that's about a defenseless bullied animal
Who eventually gets used by his bullies
So he sells out his soul
To save them
In their hour of need
Even though all they're doing
Is helping a fat pedophile
Break into people's houses
Ingest fatty foods
And then leave them overpriced presents
Thereby celebrating a culture of greed and all-consuming technology

I myself don't celebrate Christmas
My friends and I have our own holiday

Called 'Cool-Mas'

Where we sit around
And talk about all the people
And things
We stopped liking this year

It usually takes awhile

Oh shoot
It looks like I've spent too much time at this house

I'm going to have to move onto your neighbor

The one with the manger in their front yard

Something tells me
We're going to need to have
A long talk

Wherever You Are

Wherever you are
I'll find you

If I have to move
I'll move

If I have to pray
I'll pray

If I have to throw a thousand coins
In a thousand fountains
Or a thousand wells
I'll do it

Sometimes I lie here
And I'm convinced I keep myself breathing
Just by repeating this promise
Until I make myself believe it

Sometimes I think it's a lie
But I keep it
I keep saying it

If you say something hard enough
You can make just about anything
Sound like the truth

I have this vision
This, like, whatever
That I'm walking
Walking, like, down a fuzzy
Yellow landscape
A road, I guess
And it's hot
And I'm thirsty
And I'm pushing myself
Because I'm convinced
I'm convinced that I'm walking towards something
I'm convinced that I'm walking towards you
Wherever you are
And I think to myself
That it's good that it's difficult
That it's good that it's hard
Because it means it's going to result something
Something good
It means that I'm going to find you
That at the end of the road
There will be you

I don't know when all that's going to happen
And it's hard when you don't know
When you don't know anything

A name, what you look like
What I should be looking for
Anything that can tip me off
That can help me
So I know which road is the one
I should be walking down

But I tell myself I don't need to know
I don't need to know right now

But sometimes it feels like I know too much
To believe it
To believe any of it

And I believe it anyway

I guess that's what they call
Hope

When You Come Home for Christmas

When you come home for Christmas
We get dinner, we go eat
We fucking eat, like...

That's all we do
Is fucking eat

And see movies
Go shopping
Talk about shit
That don't matter

You know?

You unpack for the first day
Then you gotta sleep
Because the time change
Fucks you up

You sleep, and you sleep
And I start to realize
It's not the time change
It's just you wanting to dream
That you're back where you live now

I try to find ways to entertain you
Take you out drinking
Take you to see family
And friends you haven't seen
Tell you they miss you
When, truth be told
They don't think about you at all

You can't be present in somebody's life
For one week a year
And expect them to keep you around in their thoughts
The rest of the time

There's a reason they call it a holiday, you know
It's 'cause we take a break from life
When the holidays come around

That means that when you're only home for Christmas
You're not here for life
For our lives

You're here on vacation
This is a vacation for you
We're the entertainment
For your vacation

And you don't see
How this could make us
Feel resentful towards you?

You really don't fucking see that?

When you come home for Christmas
All you're doing is reminding us
That you left

We say we're going to catch up

Catch up

Like it's an easy thing to do
Like it's casual
Like you can do it quickly

'Hey, what's your life been like for the past eleven months?
See if you can catch me up before the week is out

Oh, but don't upset me
Or bring me down
Because, don't forget
It's Christmas.'

Then you go home
And I get to see pictures of you on Facebook
Having a grand old time

While I stay here and fight

You think this is your vacation?

It's not

Your life is your vacation

Your life back home with your friends
And your bars
And your Facebook moments

That's a fucking vacation

The reason you have to sleep so much when you're here
The reason this is so exhausting for you
Is because you come here
And you realize
How hard the rest of us are working
Just to get by

It's in the air here
That work
That hard work

That life

Because, see
It's hard
But it's life

It's real

And I'm sorry you have to dip your toes in it
For one week a year
Before you head back
To that dreamland
You call home now

You know, I really don't want to say 'Fuck you'
Because it's Christmas

But, you know
Here's my Christmas present to myself

Fuck you

Fuck you for not realizing
That one day
You're going to have to come back here and live
Just like the rest of us

Because vacations don't last a lifetime
Not even if you're as lucky
As you are

One day your luck will run out
And then you'll move back here
And it won't be Christmas
And there'll be a lot of people
Wondering why you didn't call
Or keep in touch
Or share some of that luck

One day you'll be back

Maybe then we can catch up

How about that?

Miss Brugel Wraps Her Presents

You know, if there's one thing I don't love about the holidays
It's wrapping all those presents
Luckily enough for me
We get an extra day of school this year before Christmas vacation
Because of all the time we lost in September
When the class hamster got out of his cage
Made his way to the school's fusebox
And chewed through most of the essential wiring leading into it

Let's all remember to pray for Scooter, children
Electrocution is not a fun way to go

I heard when they found him
He looked like a burnt marshmallow

But, as you can now see
Everything happens for a reason

Scooter passes on into the next realm
And I have a bonus day with my favorite people in the world
My students!

--And that means all of you can help me wrap!

And while you wrap
I'll put on a little Josh Groban
To get us in the Christmas mood

Then again, Josh Groban gets Miss Brugel in all sorts of moods
Hahahaha--it's a double entendre, children

Remember when we learned about those?
And then most of you had to be sent home
Because your heads were hurting

Wit is a heavy cross to bear

Now, I'm going to have my A students
Wrap the presents for my very special friend
Jenna's mother, Mrs. Toperstein

Jenna doesn't know this
But she may be getting a new Mommy for Christmas
Hahaha--oh no!  No, Jenna, nothing's going to happen to your Mommy
I meant an additional Mommy, sweetheart
You'll have two Mommies!

Oh God, she's crying even harder
Bobby take her down to the nurse
I hear she just got a shipment of percocet in

Jenna go take whatever Mrs. Falkner gives you
And don't tell your Mommy what I said, all right?

Christmas is all about surprises!

Now, I'm going to have my B students
Wrap the presents for my eleven cats

Make sure you get the bows right, children
Mindy-kins is notoriously judgmental
When receiving gifts that poorly wrapped

One year she threw up
All over the DVD I bought for her
Granted, it was the Sex and the City sequel
So it's hard to say what exactly she took offense to
But I think it might have been the bow
So really work on that

You C students are wrapping the tie I bought for the principal, Mr. Condon
Please make sure you wrap that note I wrote him around the tie

The one that says--

'I bought this tie with the Christmas bonus you didn't give me this year--because I'm not bitter.  Love, Miss Brugel.'

Then put on those lab gloves
And sprinkle that powder over the tie
Before you wrap it

Oh no, it's not anything serious children
At worst it'll give him a rash
And at best it'll render him sterile

Either way, it's a win for both myself
And Mrs. Condon

You D students are going to wrap my mother's present
Just remove the fresh fish from the newspaper
And swap it out with the older, not-so-fresh fish

See?  That's easy, isn't it?

Larry, since you're my only F student
You can just keep eating paste
And I'll let you know when it's time to go home

Now, when you tuck under the--

What's this?

This box in my drawer

Children, I've told you about putting things in my desk when I'm--

...A coffee mug that says 'World's Best Teacher?'

Oh children, this is...

I mean, I don't drink coffee
Because it turns my digestive tract
Into a rocket launcher
But it's the thought, children, the thought

You know, sometimes I underestimate you kids
Because you're so young
Just little 3rd graders

And I forget that you can be thoughtful
And kind
And...

Well, why don't we take a break from wrapping presents?

I think you've all done enough hard work today
And we should celebrate
My last day with you
Until you go spend the holidays with your families

So, enough with all the dull present-wrapping

Let's get to work on my Christmas cards!

Oh, look at those little faces fall

You children have such a strange way
Of showing your joy

While You Watched

"I guess I'm a little confused."
"I watched."
"You watched?"
"Right."
"Okay."
"It just...I was there, and then...I watched."
"Uh, all right."
"Like, it happen.  I watched...it happen."
"And how did it happen with you there?"
"I don't know.  I guess they didn't care that I was there."
"And why didn't you just leave?"
"Well, I mean, I was--it was--"
"So you're basically telling me that you cheated?"
"Well, no, I'm not, because, I didn't--cheat.  I didn't, you know, participate.  I just...watched."
"How is that not cheating?"
"I think the question is how IS that cheating?"
"You watched two people--"
"Okay, but, I watch, you know...stuff...on the computer.  You know that."
"Yeah, but that's not the same thing."
"Ohhh, I disagree."
"I disagree with you disagreeing.  It's not the same thing.  You were there.  You could have--"
"But I didn't.  I didn't DO anything.  I just watched."
"So when I watch two people on the computer it's not the same thing as watching two people in person?"
"No.  Not the same thing at all.  That'd be like saying watching a movie is the same thing as going to see a Broadway show."
"It actually isn't all that different.  I mean you can't go onstage at a Broadway show and dance around with the actors."
"Yes, but you could.  The point is, you could.  It's different."
"So you think I would have...done stuff?"
"It's not even that.  It's not even that I think you would have--"
"Well then what is it?"
"It's that you've moved into some sort of...different...thing now.  You're like a--voyeur, or something."
"A voyeur?  I'm not a voyeur."
"Really?  You don't see how--"
"I wasn't watching them through a peephole in some back room."
"Oh my--"
"I wasn't standing behind a curtain or something."
"This is--"
"And it's not like I planned it.  I didn't plan any of it.  It just happened.  It was like a car accident!"
"So you're telling me you get off on car accidents?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Who said anything about...you know...what you just said?"
"You're telling me you didn't?"
"No, I wasn't going to--that would have been--I mean I was, you know...I could have...I was...interested in...what was happening, but I...No!  I couldn't do that.  THAT would have made me a, you know, voyeur, or whatever."
"So you just...watched?"
"Yes!"
"That's...weird."
"What?"
"It's weird."
"So you're mad because I sat there and--"
"No, I mean.  I don't know.  I'm less mad that you didn't--you know, but it also seems...odd."
"Why?"
"Because you just--I mean, you're telling me that you just watched while they--"
"Yeah."
"--And then it was done and...you just...left?"
"Well...yeah.  I kind of.  I mean, we talked for a little bit after--"
"You TALKED to them?"
"Yes."
"During?"
"Oh God, no!"
"But after?"
"Yes.  Yeah.  A little."
"What was it like a post-game commentary?"
"Oh Jesus--"
"Nice landing there.  A real winner."
"Can we not--"
"I don't understand any of this!"
"Look, something happened and it wasn't planned but I didn't at any point do anything that any normal person would think of as cheating and I wasn't even going to tell you about it but it seemed wrong not to--"
"It seemed wrong not to because it was wrong."
"How was it wrong?"
"It just was.  You should have left."
"I watch that kind of stuff all the time on the--"
"THIS IS DIFFERENT.  YOU WERE THERE!  You were in the room with it.  You participated--"
"I didn't--"
"You were present for a very intimate thing.  That's what bothers me.  You took part in something intimate.  It's not even that I feel like you cheated, I just feel like--it was wrong.  That's all.  It was wrong.  They never should have...Ugh!"
"Wait, they never should have?  What?  Let me watch?"
"Yes."
"So, wait, are you mad at me, or, like, mad at them?  That it happened?  That they let me...you know, watch?"
"I'm...I'm mad at the whole thing.  It never should have--I mean, how does that stuff even happen?"
"I don't know.  I honestly don't know."
"God."
"Sooo, what does this mean?  Like...for us?"
"Well...I mean, it's not like we're going to break up over this or anything."
"But you're mad?"
"Yes, I'm bad, but I mean, it's not like a--forever mad.  It's just...I just wish it hadn't happened.  I wish you had left when it started happening.  I'm a little worried about it happening again."
"Well, I really don't think it's going to happen again.  It's kind of a rare thing.  That's part of the reason why I stayed, because it's just...I mean, when does that ever happen?"
"I feel like you want me to say--'Yeah!  That's so cool!'"
"That's EXACTLY what I wanted you to say!"
"Well, I can't say that.  We're dating.  Even if I thought that, I wouldn't say it."
"But...do you think it?"
"No!"
"Okay."

. . . . .

"So, I mean, if it happens again, even though it probably won't, you have to get up and leave."
"Okay."
"And also, let's not talk about this again.  I mean, I appreciate you telling me, I do, and I--you know, it's not that I think you screwed up in a major way or anything, I just--"
"Got it.  Case closed."
"And also...Are you happy?  Like...with us?"
"God yeah.  Absolutely."
"Really, because--"
"What happened there had nothing to do with--"
"But like also the computer--"
"That's just--that's just something people do.  It doesn't reflect on--I love you.  Okay?  All that other stuff is just, you know, sex."
"Huh."
"What?"
"It's just--I know what you're saying, and I believe you, and I'm glad we're open, and honest, and it's all--great, but...saying 'it's just sex' is just--"
"What?"
"It's just that that's what people say when they talk about betrayal."
"Yeah, but I--"
"I know, but...it is."
"Right."
"It's just weird, you know?"
"Yeah."
"It's just really weird."