Sun., June 20, 1999
This Father's Day, Give Dad A Gift He Could Wear Everyday.
Propecia.
The first pill that effectively treats male pattern hair loss.
- Text accompanying the $10 rebate form that came in my newspaper's coupon section today
"Hi, Dad!"
"Well, hi, Son! What a pleasant surprise! Come on it!"
"Sorry, I can't stay, Dad. Only 42 Sundays left for me to get my taxes done, and some of them are bound to be rained out. But I do have a card for you."
"How nice."
"And a little special something inside."
"Really?! Is it money? Stock?? A key to a new car???"
"Umm, not quite."
"It's not another porn picture you downloaded from the web, then printed out, is it? You know - like the one you gave me for Christmas?"
"You'll just have to open the card and see for yourself, Dad."
"My God, you're gonna spoil me! To think that those computer whizzes have figured out how to get that old web thing to hold not just one but two - hey, this isn't a picture at all!"
"Nope. It's a coupon for $10 off a drug I thought you'd enjoy"
"Propecia? Oh, just what I've wanted but been too embarrassed to ask for! That's what Dole uses, right?"
"Uh, no. That's... Grecian, I think. This is for your bald spot."
"What bald spot?"
"Umm - consider it a preventive, Dad."
"Oh, now - you're being foolish. As they taught us at UCLA back in the '60s, no sense getting all drugged up before you really need to. I thought you would have learned that last Mother's Day when you gave Mom that keg of Retin-A for those so-called crow's feet only you can see."
"Well, Dad - maybe you can pass the coupon along to a friend."
"Hey, do you think if I slipped a dollop of this monkey juice into Mom's Secret roll-on, it'll give her some of that Euro-style mystique I've been after her to try since our 40th anniversary cruise to Capri?"
"Ummmm.... How about those Cleveland Indians, huh?"
"And I bet I could even replace that awful smelling goop in her Nair bottle with this. Whatcha wanna bet? Huh? Huh?"
"Dad, you know what? I just remembered another deduction I'm entitled to. I think I better go seize it before it gets away."
"Well, don't be a stranger now. And remember: Fudge twice, file once."
"Thanks, Dad."
"And if they ever do figure out how to get another peachy keen porno photo on that web thing, you'll let me know - right?"
"Western Union's phone number is on the chalkboard right above my desktop abacus, Dad."
"That's my boy!"Sorry. My brain's still a little addled today from my staying up all night figuring out exactly how many children I've never had. Millions.... Billions.... Once I saw the sun starting to come up, I simply settled for "Many" and went to bed.
I've never regretted my decision to not have so many, but this Father's Day I'm cringing a little bit on the inside all the same. What if one of these kids were to successfully track me down now that I'm on the Internet with my own journal and all? What would I say if he or she lashed into me for my failure to pass along even a few of my least useful genes to him or her? "I forgot"?
Fortunately, non-existence seems a great balm when it comes to complaints.
Whoever learns how to bottle the stuff is sure to make a fortune.I never knew my own father, and it's probably just as well. Given my tenuous grasp on the ways of life, I probably would have gotten confused last Flag Day and accidentally run dear old dad up a pole. I don't think Hallmark makes an apology card yet quite big enough to smooth over that particular kind of faux pas, either....
In the back of my mind, I'm not sure we should be glorifying fatherhood with its own day, anyway. Doesn't it just make fatherhood seem that much more appealing to teenage boys? I mean, we already have a problem with them reproducing too often and too well, don't we? Do we really want to risk making matters worse by sending the message to the poor lonely boy sitting in his room in Indiana that the way to get those cards, neckties, and little golf gadgets he's always wanted is to go out and knock up some girl?
I don't think so....Speaking of cards, I got the sweetest one from my cat Jester this morning. He was so cute as I secretly watched him trying to sign his name without an opposable thumb. I wanted to help him so bad, but of course I couldn't, being all thumbs myself.
"I love you, Dad," the front said in fancy script. "Got milk?" was the inside punchline. Haha!
And then I noticed the little clipping that had fluttered out and to the carpet.
It was a recent fact from my paper's "Believe It or Not!" column.
"Some of the best-tasting and most expensive coffee in the world comes from beans that have passed through the digestive systems of Vietnamese civet cats!" it read.
"Oh, Jess," I sighed. "I already knew felines were special. You didn't have to give me a reminder!"
He just sat and smiled shyly.
And pushed a small, wrapped box forward with one of his front paws.
He's been head-butting my ankles ever since, obviously anxious for me to open and try his gift, but I can't. I just can't.
Not until the libraries open tomorrow and I can find out if the digestive systems of civet cats are a bit tidier than his is, anyway....
Back To A Simpler Past Home To See If Dad Can Bounce Us On His Knee
At 70 As Well As He Could At 30
Holiday Bonus Section!
As Semi-Promised Yesterday, Here's An Authentic
Trivia Question
Which Just Might Help You Forget The Rest Of This Sorry Entry!On page 50 of the Newsweek dated May 24, 1999, an ACTUAL UN-RETOUCHED PHOTOGRAPHED of ONE of the following couples appeared. Was it:
A) Bill and Hillary Clinton as Frankenstein's monster and his bride?
B) Tipper and Al Gore as Beauty and the Beast?
C) Monica Lewinsky and Bill Clinton as Little Red Ridinghood and the Big Bad Wolf?
D) Bob and Elizabeth Dole as The Old Man and the Sea?The ACTUAL, UN-RETOUCHED answer will be revealed tomorrow!
(Can't wait for medical reasons? Email me a note from your doctor and I'll send you the answer sooner.)
(All Material ©1999 by Dan Birtcher exactly as the Burning Bush commanded)
