Mediocre Fred's Mediocre Blog (Ret.)

Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice Explain Themselves

Today's Musical Selection: "Can't Explain" by the Who

Hi, everybody! Today I managed to track down Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice in order to get them to respond to the comments on their column. They're coming to us today from a Denny's out by Interstate 84 somewhere in Oregon, having completed their Thanksgiivng observance and now wending their way back east toward... somewhere else. The information on their next stop was a little hazy. (Perhaps unsurprisingly, that information came from Uncle Millie.) But no matter; let me turn over the floor to our dynamic duo. Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice, take it away!

UM: Hello, lads! Greetings from... Exit 209, wherever that is.

AB: I believe the sign said Pendleton.

UM: There was a sign? I didn't see it.

AB: Relax, folks, Uncle Millie isn't doing the driving. At lesat not since that incident in Yakima.

UM: I still say that looked like a rest stop.

AB: Millie, it was a water-treatment plant. And even if it had been a rest stop, what exactly prompted you to think it was okay to drive into the building?

UM: My foot slipped.

AB: Of course it did. At any rate, for those who might be curious, our belated Thanksgiving dinner went well. I ran out and got a turkey at the last minute, and Uncle Millie actually did cook it himself, and he did a good job of preparing it.

UM: The secret is in the sauce.

AB: They don't call that sauce, dear, they call it gravy.

UM: No, the turkey wasn't sauced. But I was.

AB: (sigh) I know.

UM: I had a marvelous time myself. It's wonderful to be a free man again! We had a fine feast fit for royalty, and then I settled down to watch a little football.

AB: Unfortunately, the NFL doesn't schedule games for the Thursday after Thanksgiving.

UM: No matter. I always wind up falling asleep on the couch anyhow, so I just tuned in C-SPAN and bam, out like a light! It was just as I remember it.

AB: I'd also like to thank my sister Tricia for taking us in and sharing our delayed celebration with us.

UM: Yes, indeed. Your sister is a charming woman, my dear. I quite enjoyed meeting her.

AB: I wish she could say the same of you.

UM: What does that mean? She said she enjoyed my company.

AB: Of course she said she did. She was well brought up. But she confided to me that there were certain aspects she enjoyed somewhat less. Particularly the fondling incident.

UM: That was purely an accident. I dropped my napkin, and as I leaned over to get it I accidentally brushed against her.

AB: We were in the middle of Sears at the time.

UM: I'd neglected to remove my napkin from my lap before leaving the house. If you had bothered to point it out, none of that would have happened.

AB: Oh, so it was my fault you groped my sister?

UM: I'm not the one assigning blame, my dear. I was simply making a statement. I was exercising my First Amendment rights.

AB: Why don't you exercise your Fifth Amendment rights and be quiet?

UM: Very well.

AB: Now, let's get to our first comment, from Tripp. He writes:

Millie,

Welcome back! I share your joy de sister-in-law, but I do feel obliged to mention that my main motto is "all things in moderation." Now most people nod their heads at this and hear the "moderation" part, but like you, I tend to focus on the "all things," if you know what I mean. Still, "moderation" is also in the mix.

And, as we both know, Beatrice must be a very special person!

UM: Ah, lad, once again you prove that we are on the same wavelength! I too believe in "all things in moderation."

AB: Oh, please. You wouldn't know moderation if it was kicking you in the shins at the Thanksgiving table.

UM: Was that you? I thought it was the dog.

AB: You'd better rephrase that statement if you want to walk out of here in one piece.

UM: I, uh... never mind. At, any rate, Tripp, between us gentlemen, I'm sure your well aware of the virtues of a high-quality sister-in-law, and it's an occasion for joy and revelry when you-

WAITER: May I take your orders?

AB: I'll just have coffee, thank you.

UM: I'll have Moons Over My Hammy!

WAITER: Be right up.

AB: We just ate lunch an hour and a half ago. Why do you want all that?

UM: I don't. I just like saying Moons Over My Hammy!

AB: I know. You've been saying it ever since we heard that commercial on the radio. But what do you intend to do with a plate of food you don't want? It's just like you to go out and do something silly and impulsive like that. Why do you think that it's okay to just-

UM: Beatrice, my dear, the column? The line is still hot.

AB: Oh, yes. Sorry.

UM: Oh, and by the way, Tripp, you're quite right that Beatrice is a very special person.

AB: Oh, that's quite convincing. By the way.

UM: Moving along, Tripp continues:

As usual, I'm going to kibitz on your advice, not because the advice was bad, but because it is a fun thing to do, and for some reason I like doing fun things.

Well put, lad, and well you should. In the words of the great Jim Croce: "If you dig it, do it. And if you really dig it, do it twice."

AB: Or again and again and again until it drives everyone around you crazy, as the case may be.

UM: Don't you think Moons Over My Hammy is clever?

AB: Once, sure. Twice or three times, even. But after the hundredth repetition, it starts to lose its charm.

UM: No matter. Tripp continues:

As for Nate and the two year rut - I will simply point out the "Mommy" trap. Sometimes a lover relationship can morphe into a Mommy/Sonny relationship without anybody knowing it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be married to my Mommy. My friend Dale's Mom, now she was HOT, and I wouldn't mind . . . but I digress.

As Caldwell B. Cladwell in "Urinetown" says, "Don't be the bunny," which I am free to change to "don't be the sonny." Yeah, it's nice to have someone else cook your food and wash your clothes and pick up after you, but don't do it! The cost is too high! You want to be with a Hot Momma, not a Mommy.

AB: I have no idea who Caldwell B. Cladwell is, and I suspect I don't want to know. But I think I catch your drift nonetheless. It's not subtle.

UM: As usual, my friend Tripp gets right to the heart of the matter. By changing partners frequently, you avoid the risk of being mothered. Which is definitely a good thing. You don't want to wind up with Mommy doing all your laundry, Mommy making sure you eat your vegetables, Mommy demanding to know where you're going at night...

AB: Or having to explain to Mommy why you gave her herpes.

UM: And it's particularly problematic for a young man, which I suspect Nate is, to settle down too soon. You don't want to commit to monogamy too fast.

AB: Absolutely true. Uncle Millie's past 50, and he's still not ready for that kind of commitment.

UM: Touche.

AB: To Tripp's next point:

Now Gene, with the old flame. Oooh yeah. I remember a few years back an old 'friend' of my wife's just happened to phone her up. It was all innocent. Yeah, sure. Six months later he was divorced. So let's not fool ourselves that the old flame is innocent. Gene's wife may be innocent, though. Me, I'd tell my wife it bugs me. I wouldn't tell her to knock it off, cause I don't tell her what to do, but I'd tell her it bugs me. And, since Gene lives in Texas, I'd start shooting some things. I mean like cans. In the desert. I'd offer to take the old flame to a rifle range.

Oh, and what did I do when my wife's old flame was after her? I told my wife "he's after you." I went in the basement and lifted weights, and I asked for a punching bag for Christmas.

UM: That's the spirit, lad! I should have told Gene to take the old flame out shooting. That ought to drive the point home quite clearly. Good thinking! I also admire your taking the initiative for self-improvement in the face of competition. There's no better way to make sure your lady appreciates what she has.

AB: If you believe that, then why don't I see you out trying to improve yourself?

UM: What's to improve? Can't improve on perfection.

AB: Oh, don't get me started. I do like Tripp's point about talking to the wife about any concerns. If the situation really bothers Gene, he should sit down and have a talk with his wife, rather than leaving her with the sense that she's done something wrong but doesn't know what.

UM: Well, you know what I say: A little less conversation, a little more action. Gene, lad, the shooting range. That's all I need to say.

AB: If only I could believe that. Continuing on with Tripp's comment:

Moving on to Lloyd . . . as you say, he should see a doctor, mostly cause they would know how to deal with the situation. And Millie, we both know neither of us has to do any bragging about King Henry. Some things speak for themselves. And if that was literally true I'd be making money on the internet.

UM: Ah, here's a lad who understands! After all, it's not bragging if it's true.

AB: Yes, if. And in your case, that's a big if.

UM: Very big indeed. So big it's a threat to surrounding furniture. But no need to brag. You and I know how it is, Tripp me lad.

AB: Moving on.

UM: One time, I was working as a tollbooth operator, and the gate stopped working, so I just unzipped my-

AB: Moving on!

UM: All right, all right.

AB: More from Tripp:

But, Lloyd, um, what is a delicate way to put this . . . do you wake up with early morning stiffness? Have you been getting any dates with Rosie palm and her five sisters? If so then I think the hardware is working fine, which should be a relief. In that case I can't offer more suggestions without knowing more details, which I would gladly accept, including photos, if you have them.

UM: Uh, lad, did you just ask the gentleman for pictures of the King? I thought we were on the same wavelength, but that last comment has given me pause.

AB: This last comment was just gross and crass. If that's your "delicate" way of putting matters, Tripp, I shudder to think what the indelicate way would sound like.

UM: He didn't just- pictures of another man's trouser snake- surely he didn't mean-

AB: Let it go, Millie.

UM: But- but-

AB: At any rate, Tripp concludes:

So welcome back, you two! And remember, save one for later, and always leave them wanting more.

Well, we're glad to be back, Tripp.

UM: Indeed, lad. And I always save at least one for later, if you get my drift.

AB: And he always leaves me wanting more, if you get mine.

UM: I don't know that I like the sound of that.

AB: Next up is a comment from reader PG, who writes:

I'd always assumed (and I think early columns supported this thought) that part of Aunt Beatrice's motivation for staying with Uncle Millie, aside from the sacredness of marriage, was that whatever Uncle Millie's moral, ethical, spiritual, intellectual, chemical, legal and social shortcomings, there was never a loss of consortium issue. But now we find that Uncle Millie is troubled in this area as well. Really, Bea, you can do better.

Well, P - may I call you P? I hope so, since you took the liberty of calling me Bea, which no one does.

UM: You must understand that my beloved is a little sensitive on the subject of her name.

AB: Bea is the old maiden aunt in the Andy Griffith Show. That's not me.

UM: It's best not to provoke her this way.

AB: Anyhow, P, I understand your comment. Not that my marital choice is a matter for public concern. P.

UM: Let it go, dear. It was an honest mistake. She didn't know your feelings about "Bea."

AB: All right. Sorry about that. Normally, I wouldn't speak about our private business in a public forum, but when Uncle Millie chose to brag about his prowess, well, I couldn't help myself.

UM: She was just joshing. We do that sometimes. It keeps the relationship fresh. I assure you I am all man. And I do mean all man.

AB: Mm-hm. Now, why do I stay with Uncle Millie? Well, the marital bond is very important to me, and I don't take it lightly.

UM: That's very true. My Beatrice is a great believer in the sanctimony of marriage.

AB: Sanctity. The sanctity of marriage.

UM: That's what I said.

AB: I- never mind. At any rate, it's certainly true that my husband is only human. Quite human. More human than almost anyone I've ever met.

UM: Thank you.

AB: You're welcome. But there are compensating virtues. They're hard to discern sometimes, but they're there. You've heard the old phrase, "Close your eyes and think of England?" Well, that's my approach to marriage.

UM: But, my dear, I'm not English, I'm Irish.

AB: But- you- You know something, P, perhaps you have a point.

UM: I know I have a point. Want to see it?

AB: As tempting as that is, I'm afraid our order is here.

WAITER: Ma'am, here's your coffee.

AB: Thank you.

WAITER: And sir, I'm afraid we're out of Moons Over My Hammy. Would you like to make another selection?

AB: Actually, that a good thing, because he isn't really-

UM: Yes, I'd like a Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity breakfast!

WAITER: Wrong restaurant, sir.

UM: Well, in that case, we're leaving.

AB: I haven't finished my coffee yet!

UM: Finish it in the car. We've got a Rooty Tooty to go in search of. And so, we take our leave. Happy hunting!

Thank you, Uncle Millie and Aunt Beatrice. Their regular column will return next week.

Kudos to loyal reader PG for bringing this to my attention: As you may recall, yesterday's musical selection was Steve Martin's "King Tut," and I mused that not many readers would have thought of that bit of musical arcana recently. As it turns out, completely unbeknownst to me, Steve Martin himself had written a humorous op-ed about that song the day before. It was easy to miss, however, given that it ran in a poorly-circulated and little-read rag called the, um, New York Times. Oh, well. Read the article, by the way; it's hilarious.

And I'm done for the day. See you tomorrow!

Posted by Fred at December 7, 2004 10:40 PM