Friday, August 20, 2010

Once You Grow Up, Beer is Your Trophy

Once you get married, you realize things will never be like when you were a kid.  When you were a kid, and you did something well, you got a trophy.  Or a medal or a sticker or a cupcake or a pat on the back or a "nice job there, little guy."

But once you get older, if you do something really great . . . something really totally amazing . . . like remove a giant stump from your backyard or install a ceiling fan without electrocuting yourself, there will be no one there waiting to hand you a medal or a cookie when you get done.  And it's best not to look for accolades from your wife, because chances are that she does WAY more laudatory stuff than you do . . . she probably buys all the gifts for everyone on BOTH sides of the family and does the bills and keeps track of the tax information and cleans things and puts away the laundry and makes the kids lunches and participates in the PTO and does  all kinds of other stuff that you don't t even know about because she doesn’t need constant encouragement and positive reinforcement to get stuff done.  At least that's the case in my house. 


As most of us know, the only way you can reward yourself once you are an adult, your only trophy after you swat a wasp-nest out of your porch umbrella and fight five giant wasps to the death, will be to grab a beer.  This is scary because it means the busier and more productive you are-- the more trophy-worthy tasks you accomplish-- the more likely you are to become a fat alcoholic.  It's certainly a paradox, and it seems that men succumb to it more than women.  


I will illustrate this theme with a Greasetruck song, but first, here are the top ten things I did in the last three years that were deserving of some sort of recognition . . . and don't be afraid to list your unsung accomplishments in the comments.

  
1.   Fought, Defeated, and Killed the Squirrels in my Attic.
2.   Fought, Defeated, and Killed the Mice in my Shed. 
3.   Built Greasetruck Studio and surrounding Soundproof Bookshelves.
4.   Successfully Collaborated with Igor during the Production of "Dear Ozzy (Thanks for Nothing)."
5.   Did not Beat my Child when he Maliciously and Purposefully Flooded the Kitchen Ceiling.
6.   Almost Finished Infinite Jest.
7.   Uncomplainingly went to a Broadway Show
8.   Performed Admirably at Ian’s Fifth Birthday Despite Having a Massive Hangover.
9.   Took a Novocaine Shot in Roof of Mouth and Did Not Cry
10. Brought Down a Giant Precariously Hanging Tree Limb With Football Duct-Taped to a Rope.




War and Peace
 
I finally finished War and Peace. Nobody give me no trophy.
Yes, I finally finished War and Peace, but nobody give me no trophy.
Read Gravity’s Rainbow, The Recognitions, Bleak House, Tristram Shandy,
The Origin of Species, Brothers Karamazov.  Didn’t get no trophy.  Not even a ribbon.

Caught and disposed of the mice in the shed, listened to Wagner’s
Ring Cycle-- took me three days-- didn’t even get a t-shirt.  
Or a mug or a commemorative plate.

Little kid swim around in a pool, kick a ball in a goal:
they give him a big gold trophy.  And a nice t-shirt.  
Maybe some pizza too.

I stain the deck, run a snake down the toilet, teach my kids how to ride a bike,
install a ceiling fan but . . . you guessed it . . . no trophy . . .
not even a medal or a ribbon or some kind of little prize . . .
a spider ring or a little soldier with a parachute.

I thought that there would be a whole lot more cheering for me--
call my name, lift me up, bikini girls with D-cups.
You beat Call of Duty 3 on veteran level,
you completed a Saturday New York Times crossword,
nobody give you no trophy. Not even a phone call.  Couldn’t Will Shortz give you a phone call? 
  
You survive a mudslide, a tornado, a hurricane, an oil spill, a flood.
Nobody give you no trophy.  Or even a cool hat. 
Just some misappropriated funding. 

I did not beat my children when the purposefully flooded the bathroom
with malicious intent and it came through the kitchen ceiling.
Them kids didn’t give me no trophy.  Not even a “Thank You For Not Beating Me” note.

I tell my wife I did all the dishes and put them away, and she say:
“That’s fantastic honey . . . you want a trophy?”  
Well yes I do, as a matter of fact.
Not that it’s the thing that motivates me but still, it would be a nice gesture.
Something, anyway.  You get a woman some flowers, that’s her trophy.
Hey, did you bring those beers home for me?  You did?
Why thank you!  That's just what I wanted.




24 comments:

rob said...

i put up blinds in my daughter's room. no trophy.

Dave said...

have a beer! right now. and then go driving.

so what happened with the speeding? you're worse than the zman with his 1/2 of an elopement story . . .

TR said...

I tried to put up blinds in my son's room, but was foiled by plaster walls. And a general lack of expertise for anything but the most simple handyman work. Had to call in a professional. He didn't get a trophy, but he did get a couple bucks. I treated myself to a beer for making the decision to delegate.

TR said...

But I never had a hanging bed in Unit M collapse. I take pride in that.

rob said...

kindly officer lotz reduced my ticket from speeding (51 in a 35 mph zone) to 'failure to obey a traffic sign' because of my politeness. should save me a good chunk of change, which will be used on beer.

Marls said...

1. Fought, Defeated, and Killed the Squirrels in my Attic.
2. Fought, Defeated, and Killed the Mice in my Shed.


Given the questionable capitalization, I can only assume that "Squirrels in my Attic" and "Mice in my Shed" are indie bands that Greasetruck laid waste to at the piscataway battle of the bands.

Reward beers at the Golden Rail?

Greg said...

I saw E.B. & the Dirt Worshippers last night at the Conn Stapleton Center. They have what appears to be a dynamite sound.

rob said...

i don't truck with this rodent genocide.

Greg said...

Rodenticide?

Dave said...

wow marls, nice jersey references!

the golden rail burned down (on purpose?) and so they are re-building it, should be a nice upgrade . . .

Dave said...

and my caps were because i thought you should capitalize things deserving of a trophy: like Best Sound Effects in a Foreign Film with Czech Sub-Titles

Mark said...

E.B. & The Dirt Worshippers are good, but I prefer Trixie and the Celestials.

On to accomplishments:

- I moved from one four bedroom (and 3 person) home to another with the help of one trailer and one friend.
-Landscaped my backyard (partially)
-Successfully organized an NYC bachelor party

zman said...

"Mice in my shed" sounds like a euphamism Richard Gere would use.

d-train said...

1) impregnated my wife again
2) completed training for an Ironman
will let you know how #2 worked out for me in about 9 days.
#1 wouldn't have been on there if #2 wasn't.

rob said...

#1 was part of training for #2? that's really weird.

but congratulations to the d-team. nicenice.

d-train said...

yeah, that was worded very poorly. thanks jmu.

#2 is what makes #1 seem a little more impressive perhaps....is what i should have said.

Dave said...

i'm going to skip my first iron man and go right for #2.

are we talking about 26 mile run, 112 mile bike, 2 mile swim? if so, you are insane.

zman said...

So your wife is into #2? Like in those German scheiße videos?

Either way, good for you. Congrats.

Greg said...

know what band really sucks? The Ambulators. They opened for Learing Heathen and got booed off halfway through their third song, "Talk in Thunder".

d-train said...

no dave...
the swim is 2.4 miles.

Marls said...

That's too bad about the Rail. I believe that we had pregame beers there the night TR, myself, and friend of G:TB Sammy P went to the high point in Rutgers football history.

Igor said...

Roger Clemens:

"I didn't play the game to go to the Hall of Fame," he said. "We love the Hall of Fame ... [But] I played the game because it was an opportunity to take care of my family."

i.e., for money. Not for the love of the game or anything like that. He's finally stopped lying.

Igor said...

And Dave, that picture of you and your attire still cracks me up. Retarded.

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