I don't like to go outside too much.
It's hot and sticky, or cold and wet, and neither one appeals to me.
The sun makes my vampire senses tingle and I begin to burn. I am a
burning vampire, I adamantly refuse to sparkle. Therefore, I pay to
have my enormous lawn mowed every summer. However, my lawnmower-girl
decided she needed a college education and left me. I do have
children, but parents are no longer allowed to boss their kids around
and make them do chores. As a result, I ended up mowing the lawn the
other day. I can only assume that the following conversation I had
in my head was due to too much sun exposure.
I picture John Cleese and Susan Sullivan at breakfast having this conversation:
Rich People Having
Breakfast
(This
was all done in a British accent in my head, if you would care to
read it that way.)
“Jefferey,
the lawn needs mowing again, I can see those little yellow flowers.”
“Oh
Tabby, don't we have a servant we beat for that” Ha ha!
“Jefferey,
you can't say you beat the servants now, it isn't done”.
“It
was only in jest darling. We have those riding crops, and... well you
know...”
“Yes,
but you can't joke about that now, Jeffery.”
“How
odd. Well, we pay someone to take care of that don't we?”
“I
don't think we can joke about that either.”
“I
wasn't joking, Tabby, I really think we do.”
“I
meant about paying them. I don't think we can joke about that.”
“But
we do pay them. I'm sure of it. We give them money.”
“Yes,
but darling, surely that isn't paying them. From what I understand
they are given, there is no way one can live on that. I think they
are simply people who enjoy the outdoors and make sport of taking our
money when they would be outside anyhow. It's some sort of odd game,
I'm certain.”
“Should
we continue it?”
“Everyone
does, and I really don't see any harm in it. Just leave it alone
Jeffery.”
“By
all means darling.”
A
long pause ensues wherein you only hear the tink of a fork lightly
touching china and the shake of Jeffery's newspaper. He's reading
the financial section. He has no idea what he's looking at.
A
huge Golden Retriever comes wandering into the room.
“Hello,
Goldie, say hello to mummy!”
“Jeffery,
please don't address the dog to me.”
“Dear,
Goldie's neckerchief is very centered on her neck. I prefer it at an
askew angle. Makes her look jaunty. It says 'I'm fun', don't you
think?”
“The
groomer handles that Jeffery.”
“Will
you ask the groomer to make her neckerchief more jaunty in the future
then?”
“Yes
dear, I'll see to it.”
“Very
good.”
The
dog lays down in a corner and goes to sleep.
“Dear,
the chocolate man who runs the country says he is fixing a recession
or something.”
“Jeffery,
don't call them chocolate.”
“Why
not, that is precisely the color he is. He looks exactly like one of
those chocolates I've seen you set out when your mother comes to
visit.”
“Yes,
but you cannot call him chocolate. He'll find it offensive.”
“Really?”
“Yes,
dear.”
“Do
you know they don't taste of chocolate?”
“Who?”
“The
chocolate people.”
“Jeffery,
why...”
A
long silence ensues.
“Why
what darling?”
“Jeffery,
why would you know what anyone tastes like?”
“Oh!
That!”
“Yes.”
“Well,
when I was a small boy, I had a nurse. She was chocolate. Only, I
licked her once and she didn't taste of chocolate at all. Come to
think of it, she tasted a bit like soap. I always liked the taste of
soap.”
“Jeffery?”
“Yes
dear?”
“Do
you eat the soap?”
“No,
of course not darling, but occasionally it will get into one's mouth,
in the shower perhaps, and you know, I don't find it an unpleasant
experience.”
“Jeffery?”
“Yes
dear?”
“Please
don't mention being in the shower at the breakfast table.”
“So
sorry dear.”
Tabby
rolls her eyes.
“Do
we know any, dear?”
“Know
any what, Jeffery?”
“Chocolate
people?”
“Jeffery,
no we don't, but I'm sure we have friends that do. And you must stop
calling them chocolate!”
“What
do you call them to distinguish them from ourselves?”
“You
call them African-Americans.”
“Oh!
That's good then. African-Americans. Sounds exotic, don't you
think?”
While
Jeffery rolls this term around on his tongue like wine, Tabby samples
her egg, finds it runny and sets the plate aside.
“Tabby?”
“Yes,
Jeffery.”
“What
if the African-American chocolate person, lived in say, Brazil? Had
always lived in Brazil and had never lived anywhere else. Now, say
we, living in America, must refer to this person without the benefit
of having a name for him. Would we still call him an
African-American? Or would we refer to him as an African-Brazilian?
Or perhaps an African-American-Brazilian? And if he had say, a
Chinese mother, but still looked chocolate, then how would one
address the problem? I don't see any easy solution to that quandary
at all. It would seem so confusing to me that by the time I had
finished working out the problem, I would have forgotten what the
problem was all together and then would be at great pains to go back
through my thought process to find what the original question had
been. I can see it taking up a vast quantity of my day in fact. And
I know if I were in any danger of bringing the question and the
answer close together in my head, that danger would no doubt be
averted by some relative dropping by or one of my associates calling
for some absurd reason, and then all of my time and effort would have
been for nothing. Nothing, dear.”
“Jeffery?”
“Yes
dear?”
“Please
go away.”
And that my friends, is my brain. We both apologize.
I have always said you should be published, even if you had to do it yourself. If I had money I would publish you and then I would publish myself in order to make you look that much better! I loved it, and I did speak it in my brain using a British accent. Although I kept picturing Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio on the Titanic; which is odd because it's a boat and on the boat they are both American. Very well done and thank you for the Brazil dialogue because I was already asking myself why would the chocolate people be African-American if they were in Britain, it would almost be a bit ironic.
ReplyDeleteAn insightful and hilarious read. I find myself rather fond of Jeffery, his chocolate people and his love of jaunty neckerchiefs.
ReplyDeleteYour thoughts from the shower are amazing my dear. Did you see my FB post about writing for the Charity book? I'll repost it on my Google.
ROFL! Excellently done! Not only do you write well, you "cast" well. John Cleese was perfect as Jeffery! I missed the credits so didn't see the name of the actress but she was blond, constipated and elegantly clothed.
ReplyDeleteLove you.