MONKEYSAYS

MEIN GOTT! (Roll over, John Dewey)

A SCARY MISSIVE ARRIVES:

Dear Parents and Guardians,

You are cordially invited to attend Back-to-School Night at the County Middle School. The evening is designed to offer a panoramic glimpse of your school’s program and opportunity to meet with the teachers who instruct your children. Your children have filled out a card with their daily schedule. You will follow their individual schedule - except that each of these Back-to-School Night classes will last only eight minutes….

“This is optional, right?” I said. “It’s not something we have to do, is it?"
I was wrong. It was something we had to do.

THE HALLOWED HALLS WERE, TRUTH BE TOLD, A LITTLE DINGY

I was dragging by 4th period. “What’s next?”
“German. Room 323.”
“Who’s the teacher?”
“I can’t make it out.” Looks like Ork.”
“Let me see. One? Onk? Oink?”
“Knock it off.”


FROM THE HALLS OF MONTEZUMA TO THE HALLS OF PS3

The teacher was a Post-Modern Pan-Asian looking guy.

“Guten Abend. Ich bin Herr Ohno. That is: Good evening. I am Mr. Ohno. Ha Ha Ha.”

“Oh no,” I said.

“How did someone like me end up teaching German? Ha Ha. Let me tell you. I took German in high school and I spent a year in Germany as an exchange student. Can you believe it? Has anyone ever been to Germany?”

A few desultory hands went up.

“A few of you at least. Good. Good. Then you know. Ha Ha Ha. I just loved Germany so much. I always kept in touch with my host family. I was just talking with my host Mom this past weekend. After all these years. I call her all the time. Can you believe it? Ha Ha.”

I did believe it. He had a certain needy quality that made it easy to believe that he would latch onto a surrogate mother and hound the poor woman for decades.

“Then I went to college. UC Davis. I majored in biology and German. I thought maybe I would be doctor. Haa. Can you believe it now? Ha Ha.”

I was thinking - UC Davis – isn’t that the place where you can get a degree in wine?

I was thinking - it must have been the parents who wanted him to be a doctor. Poor son of a gun had to carry two majors, one for his parents and one for himself.

“After college I joined the Marines. I spent eight years in the Marines. Can you believe it? Ha Ha. The Marines. Ha Ha.”

That one came out of nowhere. However, by this point of the evening, feeling a little shell-shocked myself, if Herr Oh No had announced that he was the reincarnation of Hathor the Egyptian cow goddess, come to drown the athletic fields in blood, I would have been inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I left the Marines just last September. Now I am teaching German, right here. This is my first year teaching; I don’t know what I’m doing yet. Don’t tell your children. Ha Ha.
No, that is a joke. Everything will be fine. Ha Ha Ha. Well, that’s all the time we have. Guten abend.”

THE LONG MARCH CONTINUES

“Look,” I said, “I’m not up to this. I think I’m gonna cut next class and go sneak a smoke in the boys room. Wait outside and watch for hall monitors.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Have you turned into one of those goody-goody types? Teacher’s pet?”
“You quit smoking years ago, for one thing.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot there for a minute. What’s next then?”
“Algebra. Room 711. And we’ve got to hurry. It’s all the way on the other side of the school and I think you get detention if you're late.”
“Who’s the teacher?”

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A PORTENTOUS CONVERSATION

“I guess you don’t go out any more, do you?” said Fish.
“I’m out now,” I said.
“I mean, like go out,” Fish said. “Are you allowed to go out?”
“I am allowed to go out,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”
“I mean, by yourself,” Fish said. “Are you allowed to go out by yourself?”
“Yes,” I said. “I can go out by myself. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve got eight tickets for the game on June 22nd. Wanna go?”

I did a quick mental calculation. It was mid-April. June 22nd was a long time away. It might never come. “Sure,” I said. “That’ll be great.”

NO WAY OUT

That night I asked a question. “Am I allowed to go out?”
“What do you mean, go out? Go out where?”
“To a baseball game, with a bunch of people.”
“What kind of question is that? Of course you can go to a baseball game.”
“I was afraid of that,” I said.

THE PLOT THICKENS

Fish called a few weeks later. “Great news. Tiger came into some money and he’s renting a limo so we can drink all day with no worries about driving.”
“That is great,” I said.
“Be over my house around 11, we want to get an early start.”
“No problem,” I said.
“And I told Tiger we’ll all chip in for the tip on the limo.”
“No problem,” I said.

“You have work today, Daddy?” Thing 1 asked.
“No work today. I’m going to a baseball game.”
“Who are you going with?”
“Some friends of mine.”
She was flummoxed. With hands on hips: “And who are these friends?”
“Oh, just some friends I have”
“What are their names?”
“Well, I don’t actually know all their names yet, but I can tell you that one is a Fish and the other is a Tiger.”

She was properly impressed.


DAY OF RECKONING

I got to Fish’s house right at 11. He opened the refrigerator. “First things first. Bud or Coors Light?”
First Hobson’s choice of the day, I said to myself. I held up a hand signifying that I’d hold off for a while. “
“Make it a Bud then,” Fish said as he dropped a cold can into my outstretched hand.
“Bud it is,” I said.

There was an old guy standing in the living room. Thin silver hair, slicked back. Black shirt, shiny black pants, and shiny black shoes. “That’s Carmine, the limo driver. He’s really gonna take care of us,” Fish said. “Right, Carm?”
Carmine grimaced.

“Carmine’s a bartender at The Corner Bar. He’s great,” Fish said. “He drives a limo in his spare time.”
That piece fell into place.

Tiger arrived, lugging a shopping bag full of beer. “Got some Bud and some Coors Light,” he said.
“Great,” I said

“You know,” Tiger said, “in all the years we’ve been running into each other I never knew your last name.”
“I’ll be damned,” I said. “Isn’t that something.”

Fish came in from the garage, dragging an extremely large cooler. “The other guys are waiting outside,” he said. “Let’s load this up and get going.”

TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME

It was not a large limo. Wedged in between The Eye Doctor and The Bar Owner, with my legs propped up on the cooler, I did a quick count. “I thought we had eight.”
“Red’s taking the train and meeting us down there,” Fish said. “Who needs a beer?’

I closed my eyes and let the conversation wash over me.
“Bud.”
“Bud.”
"Bud Light."
“Coors Light.”
“Mich Light has fewer calories, but Mich Ultra is lower in carbs."
“Carmine, you just missed the highway entrance.”
“Who needs a beer?”
“Bud.”
"Bud Light."
“Coors Light.”
“Hey, who put these Millers in here?”
“Bud.”
“Hey, Carmine.”

Tiger was passing around a flyer. “It’s next Sunday at Emmtown Park. An all-day Bluesfest. Only $30. And all the beer you can drink. Who’s in?”

It looked like everyone was going in. “No thanks,” I said. “I don’t like the blues.”
“Everyone likes the blues,” Tiger said. “Besides, it’s all-day, all the beer you can drink.”

“I’ll pass,” I said.
"Oh, yeah. That's right. Fish told me you weren’t allowed out,” Tiger said.

It seemed for a second that everyone was looking at me, maybe in pity. I began to feel a little embarrassed. Then I realized that it was the cooler that they were interested in. Once more, I brought my knees up to my chin, the lid was lifted, and another round was gained. Everyone relaxed.

“Carmine’s making good time.”
“Too good. He just missed the turnoff to the stadium.”
“Yo, Carmine.”
“Quick, let’s have one more before we get to the stadium bar.”
“Gimme a Bud.”
“We’re out. Only Millers left.”
“Got here just in time.”
“Carmine’s gonna wait here. Pick us up after the game.”
“He’s a great guy, Carmine.”
“There’s Red. Let go in and get a beer.”

The stadium bar featured two types of beer on tap.

TAKE ME OUT WITH THE CROWD

We eventually worked our way to our seats. They weren’t the best. In right field, lower level, but so far back we were in perpetual shadow from the upper deck overhang. I could almost make out the players. Also, we were angled so that we couldn’t see the giant screen in center field. No replays or highlights for us. We were pretty well hidden away.

Somehow though, the beer vendors found us right off.
“Cold beer.”
“Bud, got your Bud right here.”
“Hey, beer here.”

By the 5th inning Fish was quite a hero.
“Fish, best seats ever.”
“I never saw anything like it. They just kept coming with the beer.”
“It’s amazing.”
“Quick, drink up. They stop selling after the 7th.”

I DONT CARE IF WE EVER GET BACK

After the game we were thrust back into the sunlight, squinting like moles. Red headed for the train station.

“Red’s lost a lot of weight. He doesn’t look that good”
“Maybe he’s sick.”
“He could be dying and not saying anything. You know he doesn’t like to make a fuss.”
“Just like when his father died. Never said a word to anybody. Remember that?
“What do you think?”
“Me? I don’t even know the guy,” I said. “I guess he could be sick. I guess he could be dying”

“Hey look, there’s Carmine.” Waiting over there at the curb.”
“What a great guy.”
“Let’s go.”

THE SQUARE ROOT OF THE HYPOTENUSE

“Let’s figure out the tip.”
“Well. How much is the limo.?”
“Tiger’s paying $65 an hour. I guess times 5 hours. How much is that?”

“Carmine, you should turn here to get to the bridge. Ok, just go up and around the block then.”

“That’s $330. What’s 20% of that?”
“$66.”
“That’s not enough. How about we all chip in $25 for the tip. Carmine’s a really great guy.”
“And let’s throw in $5 more for Tiger. It’s not right that he should have to pay over $300.”

“Carmine, if you take the next exit you can avoid all that traffic. Well, this one’s all right too.”

WE GET TAKEN FOR ONE LAST RIDE

“Hey everybody, come on in and have one for the road,” Fish said.
We all followed, leaving Tiger to settle up Carmine.

Tiger came in a minute later. “There’s a problem,” he said. “Carmine can’t take a check or a credit card; he needs cash.”
“I thought you asked about that when you called,” Fish said.

“The limo company said yes,” Tiger said. “But Carmine, he’s just doing us a favor like off the books, so he wants cash. I said he can follow me to my house or to a cash machine, but he says he’s right up against the clock and if he does that he’ll have to charge for another hour.”

“Did you give him the tip yet?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Tiger said. “Right away.”

“How much do you need?" Fish asked.
“I’ve got a little over $200,” Tiger said.

“Hey everybody, chip in another $20 for the limo,” Fish yelled.
“Better make it $25,” said Tiger. “The Eye Doctor just pulled out.”

As I was leaving, Fish pulled me aside. “I’m sorry about Tiger. The way he messed up Carmine like that. Sometimes I just don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“I couldn't believe the whole thing either, " I said. “See you around.”


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AND THAT VERY NIGHT I HAD A DREAM ABOUT MORDECAI BROWN

Thing 2 was lying in bed, arm outstretched, examining her hand very carefully. “Daddy, I have three big fingers in the middle.”
Yes, I see,” I said.

“Do you have three big fingers too?” she asked.
“Yes, I do.”

“Does everyone have three big fingers, even people in Florida?”
“Yes, they do.”

“Even people in distant lands?”
“Yes, even people in distant lands.”

“Daddy, how do you know these things?”
“I’ve been around,” I said.

And I decided I would wait until she was much, much older before I would tell her about my trip to Ocracoke Island.

THE ENIGMATIC DR. F DABBLES IN THE RAG TRADE

You dress like a bum. You know that, don't do?" said F.
I didn't respond. I knew what was coming. F had recently taken a job managing a local men's clothing shop.

I'm serious," F said. You"re never going to get anywhere dressing like a bum. Why don"t you fix yourself up a bit?
"You on commission at that store?" I asked.

F was insulted: "Commission. Shit. Who needs commission? I take whatever I want. Tell you what. You come on down, pick out whatever you want. I ring the whole thing up half price. Fuck commission."

"No thanks," I said. "I don't really like the stuff at that store anyway."

"You know what you like; you like bum stuff. You're gonna go through life like a bum, aren't you? You think that's right? Looking like a bum?"

"See you later," I said. "I'm late for a bum meeting right now."


YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR

F called me a few weeks later with a better proposition. "Come on down to the store Thursday night. Take whatever you want for nothing. You can pull your car right up to the back door."

What's going on?" I asked.

It's a long story," F said. The store it's not doing all that well."

"You don't say," I said.

"Well anyway, the owners, they're losing money like crazy, so they're going to shut the whole thing down."

"Still," I said. "100% off is a heck of a going out of business sale."

"It's not exactly like that," F said.

"You don't say," I said.

"They got a scheme, a genius scheme," F said. "They got a storage unit and on Thursday they're gonna take about half the merchandise, all the good stuff. Then Thursday night they'r€re gonna get broken into and burned out. They'll get the insurance and then open up in a better location with the inventory already paid for."

"They told you all this?" I asked.

"Of course not," F said. "They don't trust me for shit. I found out because they gave Tony Ten Toes a down payment and he's been shooting his mouth off all over and my nephew heard and told me."

"You're losing me," I said. "Who's Tony Ten Toes?"

"Tony Tentoze, with a z. Don't you read the papers? Don't you keep up at all? Tony Tentoze; he was sort of connected. Went around stepping on people, beatin the ones who wouldn't pay up. Then he got into home invasions and armed robberies. Just got out. Parole or probation, I'm not sure. Anyway, he's the one's going to do thing Thursday."

You don't say," I said.

"I really shouldn't be telling you all this," F said.

"True," I said.

"So I let them know I knew but I told them I wanted some shit too. Because after this, I"ll be unemployed for a while at least. So if you come in, that's part of my share."

"I'm not sure how this all works out," I said.

"Are you thick? Just come in and get some stuff and leave. How hard can that be?

"I mean the rest of the night," I said.

"Oh that? It's simple. They're gonna leave the alarm off and the back door unlocked. Tony's gonna come in, take a bunch of stuff for himself, bust the place up a little, then torch it. It's foolproof."

"Sounds like it," I said.

I'll see you Thursday."

"Oh, sorry," I said. "I don't think I can make it. I have another meeting. But let me know how it goes."


BUT I DONT HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR

F called Friday afternoon. "Want to go to Florida?" he asked.
"When?" I said.

"Late tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest," he said.

"Didn't go so well last night, then?" I asked.

"That Tony, he's not so bright. Actually, he's a fucking moron," F said. "He went in the back door and left his trunk open with a can of gasoline in plain sight. Cop driving by notices, then he catches Tony coming out with an armful of suits and sweaters. Which would be bad enough, but when they get backup and go into the store to investigate, they can see it's three quarters empty. Where's all the clothes? Tony's got like one rack's worth of stuff only. So they ask more questions and Tony, he's not a talker, but he's not real smart either. They called me up a while ago, asked me to come in and talk to them. I told them Ok, but I'm not really coming in. I don't want the aggravation. I think I'd rather go to Florida."

"I could go to Florida," I said. "I guess we'd be driving down."

"You're driving," F said. "My car is garaged."

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EVEN WORSE, HIS SISTER IS A THESPIAN AND HIS FATHER WAS A WELL KNOWN HETEROSEXUAL


"I keep running into your friend Tiger," I told my friend Fish.
"Where?' asked Fish. "A new bar?"

"No," I said. "In the stacks at the library."
"No," said Fish. "The library. What's he doing there?"

"Genealogy, I think. At least that's the section where he works."
"Genealogy? Tiger? Why's Tiger doing genealogy?"

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe he's from an illustrious family."
"Illustrious family? Faa. Tiger's a postman."

Fish seemed put out by the whole idea of Tiger in a library. His face started to get red.

"Besides," he said, "What's Tiger know about rocks anyway?"

CUANTOS TRABAJADORES DEL GOBIERNO EL TOMAN PARA CAMBIAR UNA BOMBILLA?
(It only takes two, but you may not live long enough to see it.)

WEEK 1

Monday. I notice two lights out in my office and call maintenance.

Tuesday. I work in semidarkness.

Wednesday. A guy comes in my office and stares at the ceiling. “You’ve got two out,” he says. “I’ll have to send someone over." “Thanks,” I say.

Thursday. I work in semidarkness.

Friday. Different guys come with a ladder. He stares at the ceiling a while then mounts the ladder. He puts two post-its on the ceiling and climbs down. “What are you doing?” I ask. “I’m marking the lights so they know which ones to change,” he says.

WEEK 2

Monday. I work in semidarkness.

Tuesday. I work in semidarkness.

Wednesday. I call maintenance. “We can’t change them now.” A guy says. “All we have is the yellow tinted ones and your office is supposed to have the white." I look at the ceiling. White, yellow tint, a few ones with a pink cast. “Yellow’s fine," I say.

Thursday & Friday. I work in semidarkness.

WEEK 3

Monday. I call maintenance. “We can’t change them now,” a guy says. “Your work order calls for the yellow tinted ones and we ran out Thursday.” “Any color’s fine, “ I say. “I just need some light."

Tuesday & Wednesday. I work in semidarkness.

Thursday. Two guys come in with a ladder, and a box of lights. They say something to me, but it’s not in English and I don’t really understand. So I point to the ceiling and point to the lights. One of them climbs the ladder and retrieves the post-it. “Be right back, Boss,“ he says.

Friday. They come back. They change the lights. The new ones have a pink tone. As they leave, they start to snicker. “El pidio luces rosadas,” one of them says. They both burst out laughing.

WEEK 4

Monday. I notice that another light has burned out over the weekend.

YO, BY THEIR DEEDS YE SHALL KNOW THEM (Ishkabibble 26:1)

I ran into Big Fat Obnoxious Guy in the lounge of one of those fancy Florida resorts. He was traveling incognito (slimmed down, tanned, bearded, tinted shades), but there was no mistaking him once he went into action.

Just after 4 the hotel staff materialized and started bringing out some hors d'ouevres. BFOG pulled out a walkie-talkie.

BFOG: "Helen. Helen, Helen, come in."
No reply.

BFOG: "Helen. Helen. Helen, you there?”
Static.

BFOG: "Helen, come in. Helen, send one of the kids down with those trays. They're bringing out the food.”
Static.

A few seconds later Little Chubby Obnoxious Boy appeared and the two went to work. It was like the miracle of the loaves and fishes in reverse. Father and Son were able to make vast amounts of food disappear as if by magic. Platters of shrimp, chicken wings, egg rolls, fruit, vegetables vanished as soon as they appeared. I'd seen this act before so I wasn't surprised, but another guy was waiting in line obviously shocked.

Shocked Guy: "Hey, you took all the cheese and crackers. Now there's none for anyone else."
BFOG: "Hey, tell the staff to bring out more. That's their job, not mine."


AN OPPORTUNITY LOST

I was having coffee in the lounge early the next morning when BFOG wandered in.

BFOG: “Would you look at that? I don’t believe it.”

There was no one else in the lounge. He was either talking to me or to himself. It didn’t really matter. I kept my head down and took another sip of coffee.

BFOG: “I don’t believe it. What kind of staff do they have here anyway? All week long they’ve been sending me to the conference center and there’s a DSL hookup right there.”

BFOG: “They’ve been charging me too. Let me have a look at that. I bet that’s a hookup right there and they don’t even know it.”

And before I realized what was happening, BFOG was down on the floor, crawling under my table, trying to examine the hookups and outlets.

Usually, when an adult crawls by and touches me without permission (and this has happened more times than one might think), I respond in an appropriate manner.

I declaim loudly:
“What” (While delivering a quick kick to the ribs)
“Is the Matter” (another kick)
“With” (one more)
“You” (Stomp on any exposed fingers)

This usually move the offending party right along and leaves any bystanders convinced that the crawler has committed some unspeakable offense as well.

I aimed, and missed. BFOG was too quick for me. He was up, brushed off and moving toward the door.

“I’ll be doing all my work in here from now on,” he said. And he was gone.