Skinny Dipping: How Not to Sweat the Small Stuff

Monday, March 28, 2011

How Not to Sweat the Small Stuff

By Rose A. Valenta

Uncle Harry was in his yard cussing out the local geese that had left their greetings on his patio right next to his favorite morning coffee chair. He stepped on one of them in his bare feet and yelled “Oh, horsesh*t!” while losing half of his espresso. If I was VanGogh, I could name the color combination of goose logs mixed with espresso a “happy sienna” that matched the wicker furniture; so, not to worry, it was still in keeping with Harry’s idea of Feng Shui.

“I don’t think that’s what it is, Harry, or you would be feeling lucky in between your toes and out buying Powerball tickets.” I smiled. I always get sadistic pleasure watching Harry lose his temper before breakfast. It makes my day.

“Why isn’t it goose season?” He complained. “I’m going to get those sumbitches with my 12-gauge on opening day.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” I said. “There’s a cobra loose in the Bronx this morning. They already have Judge Napolitano profiling him and discussing his rights. He is charmed by listening to Endgame and Deadlies, hates Foo Fighters.”

“I don’t want to hear your ‘sweating small stuff’ lecture this morning,” he said, handing me a paper towel smeared with happy sienna.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said. “Say, do cobras eat geese?”

“No, but the snake could serve as your hit man for at least five of them.”

“Awww, they'll probably catch him after he bites somebody in the ass on the #2 train. So, what else is new?”

“Charlie Sheen is bringing ‘warlock napalm’ on Denise Richards via Twitter this morning, and Ed Bassmaster is running for President on YouTube.”

“What’s his platform?”

“Well, will you look at that?” I answered.

“Look at what?”

“Just look at it.” I said.

“I’ve seen goose turds before, you’re not funny”

“Just look at it.”

“If you say that one more time, I’m going to have to hurt you,” he said.

I had my laptop on the patio and quickly looked Ed up on YouTube. He was out campaigning. He wasn’t kissing babies. I turned it around, so Harry could see for himself. “Just look at it!“ I said, while I turned up the volume and ducked.