Interesting news in the Mitch house this week. After a few months of searching Mrs. Mitch has embarked on a new career at The Home Depot. She loves that home renovation kind of stuff. Anytime she watches television its on the home and garden channel. She’s the handy-woman DIY’er of our household. She put our BBQ together without the instruction booklet and she was drunker than a sorority girl during spring break at the time, without the flashing and vomiting. Frankly I’m totally okay with it. I accepted a few years ago that I have zero mechanical skill, the spatial ability of a drunk chimpanzee with head trauma, and have no inclination to learn hands on DIY crap. Not my thing and never will be.
Mrs. Mitch kind of gets off on it. She love the whole gender stereotype that we are subverting and will tease me mercilessly about not being able to fix this or that or MacGyver my way around a home project. Usually when she’s busting my chops about not being a handyman I reply one of two standard responses “I don’t need to be a handy-man I went and got a university degree so I could hire someone else to fix it.” Which in itself is a pretty weak counter argument. With my student loan debt load I can’t afford to hire an 8 year old to sweep the snow off my balcony.
My other go to response is “You can’t barely turn off the TV.” Once we had a TV remote that had a power button to turn on the TV, then a separate power button to turn it off, and another separate button you had to push before you hit the power button to turn it off. Who would have thought that cheap Mexican made electronics would have features that make no sense? I think this is the Third World’s passive aggressive way of messing with us. “Hey let’s screw with the gringos. Two, wait…. no…no…no…. lets put three power buttons on the remote.” Not one but three separate buttons you have to use to turn off or on the television. Thank you NAFTA.
Mrs. Mitch would mash all three until eventually the TV would turn on if at all. If it didn’t turn on she would throw it at me in disgust growling “I hate this stupid remote I’m pushing all the right buttons.” I could relate, nothing worse than pushing all the right buttons and not turning something on, maybe she just needed a big glass of wine and a Barry White CD. Not that this approach ever worked usually it ended with Mrs. Mitch snoring asleep, empty wine glass in hand on the couch and me watching late night Girls Gone Wild infomercials.
There are certain “guy” things I should probably like but I just don’t. I’m not a big fan of gender humour as they are usually based on stereotypes and kind of a lame attempt at humour. I will admit there is probably some truth to most gender stereotypes but lets explore one guy thing I should be into but I’m not.
You know has every family has that one Aunt or Uncle who always feels the need to put on big events and get the whole family together? Well my family has one of those, and for a few years the big event was a family golf tournament. Every year I would get harassing good natured phone calls from uncles, aunts, cousins, family friends, the homeless guy downtown who wears a tinfoil codpiece, and my parents pleading to come to the family golf tournament. “But it will be so much FUN!” they would all plead, saying ‘fun’ like it was spelled with a “PH” and huge inflection at the end like PHHHHuuuuN. I would hold my ground and politely but firmly decline. Golf to me has got to be the worst sport I could possibly imagine.
Let me lay “Mitch’s Golf Theory” on you. I have to spend at least two if not more hours outside in the hot sun with no air conditioning getting sweaty. Then I get to smack a little white ball, that is significantly smaller than my left testicle a couple hundred yards away from myself. Then I go for a long walk in aforementioned hot sun to go search for the little white ball that is more diminutive than my left testicle amongst grass, trees, sand and water. Then I repeat this futile exercise a few more times and move on the next hole to repeat the whole damn thing for another 17 holes. This is fun? How about the next time you are hiking through the woods on a sunny hot day you take your keys and throw them a couple hundred yards away from you, amongst the grass, trees, sand and water. Then if and when you find your keys you throw them again a couple hundred yards away from you and go look for them again for two or three hours and let me know when you get “funned out.”
That’s “Mitch’s Golf Theory.”