Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Gettin' Limber

Driving west on Interstate 10 today, I came upon a navy blue Dodge Neon with a very large sticker in the rear window. Approximately 18 inches high by 12 inches wide, this sticker depicted a hand giving all who looked upon it the single-digit salute. On the left side of the car, from the front portion of the rear door to halfway through the rear quarter panel was a very large dent. Obviously, someone was deeply offended by this sticker . . . or someone like Martha Stewart was trying to get a closer look to see if the middle finger had bad cuticles.

Speaking of Martha, I heard a news story a few weeks ago that her probation may be extended because she went to a yoga class. I personally have never attended a yoga class, but I’ve seen yoga on television – the joys of multi-channel cable! (In my hotel room, of course. I’m too cheap to order cable for the house.) From what I have been able to gather by watching these exercises, the government’s got it all wrong: yoga should be the choice form of probation. Sure, the people on the program I watched seemed to be enjoying immensely bending body parts in directions God never intended, but we all know these people are genetic freaks whose DNA was mixed with melted rubber bands and slinkies.

Imagine the horror of Jimmy "Two Fingers" Figorelli at his sentencing hearing for whacking Vinnie "Bellybutton" Giacono when he’s told that he’s going to spend the next twenty years doing the Barking Sunrise. (Actually, he won’t be at all horrified because he’ll at first think that this means he’s been consigned to nightly keg parties, and he’s being promised the mornings after won’t be pretty. But then, his attorney will show him a picture of different yoga positions – Lotus Reclined, Chocolate Groinpull, etc. – and he’ll be reduced to tears and a snotty nose.) This would send shock waves throughout the criminal community. Gone would be the Hollywood glamorization with tough guy Colin Ferrell’s hardened character telling the interrogating officer, Dustin Diamond (Screech from "Saved by the Bell"), that his Bad Cop intimidation won’t work on him: "You aint gettin’ nothin’ out of me. No deal! I can stand on my head for twenty years in the joint if I gotta." Because with yoga, that may be exactly what they’d be doing – I believe that move is called the Hurling Kitten. Anyway, back to Martha.

I can see why the government is so keen on making an example out of Martha. A woman (or man) who can magically construct a Shaker-style end table out of coffee grounds and four popsicle sticks is a maniacal beast on par with the world-domination-obsessed villains from James Bond movies. Clearly, a person like this finds daily enjoyment at thumbing her nose at the justice system – and it’s a jaunty thumbing at that! But there must be more to the government’s hell-bent drive to keep Martha under their thumb.

Have you ever been on the golf course and hit a beautiful drive down the middle of the fairway, watching it come to rest – in plain view – about 250 yards away? However, when you drive up to the spot where you know you saw it stop, the ball is nowhere to be found. Your first thought is gophers, then the Keebler elves. But then reason takes over, and you realize gophers have no desire to take your golf ball – they’re too busy hunting down the Keebler elves and eating them. It’s Martha. The little minx stole your ball! The dimpled surface, in her opinion, is an affront to any respectable decorating genre or medium.

Ever opened your dryer to find only one sock missing? It’s Martha, I’m sure. She’s convinced that the sock that remains – the one with the hole in the big toe – will now be discarded.

Rafael Palmeiro, in response to Major League Baseball’s finding steroids in his urine, says that he never knowingly took such a substance – I’m talking about steroids, not urine. Again, it was Martha. Believe it or not, she’s a huge baseball nut. She wants to see as many homers jacked out of the park as the guy sitting next to you at the game who paints half his body blue and the other half lime green – even though the team colors are black and red.

Lastly, we all think the Berlin Wall came toppling down in the face of Reagan’s staunch opposition to Communism. Nope. It was Martha. She’s the one who really toppled the Berlin Wall – not out of some desire to liberate or unite but because she thought the brick created the wrong aesthetic for the Bauhaus-inspired neighborhood nearest to it.

I’m all for throwing her back in the slammer. I’ve "lost" my share of golf balls, and I’m sick of my pile of mate-free socks. Sentence her to twenty years of yoga – the Goat Kick to the Hindquarters would be an appropriate position to start off with.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Keep it up. Kudos to Martha and the Berlin Wall.