Challenging the Pearls Roadster for pure dedication, this Pearls fan in Erbil, Iraq has placed Rat and Pig on a sign overlooking a children’s soccer field. And if my Arabic is correct, I believe those words below “Ainkawa Football Academy” translate roughly to, “Thank you, Stephan Pastis, for lending us your characters, which have helped bring peace and joy to our country. Your keen sense of humor is invaluable to the formation of a stable Iraq.”
I’ve noticed that all my problems have one thing in common: They are caused by other people.
Armed with that knowledge, I have conducted my life with one central tenet in mind:
Avoid people. Especially the ones you know.
Key to this strategy is the drive-thru line at my local Starbucks. Instead of encountering a minimum of twenty other humans, you encounter just one, the person who works the window. Encountering just one person instead of twenty eliminates 19 possible problems. That has win all over it. I’m hoping that one day technology will be able to eliminate that one person, but until that day, a man can only dream.
But this morning I had a revelation. Why do we limit drive-thru lines to food and drink? Why not expand it to all social interaction?
The social interaction I have in mind is the wedding.
Weddings have all three things any right-thinking person dreads in this life: 1) relatives; 2) speeches and 3) relatives. Topping this off is the fact that you have to buy these people something from the most expensive line of china these idiots could find and you’ve got the making of a tragedy.
Hence the drive-thru.
You would pull your car up to a window, where the bride and groom would be waiting. You greet them. You say congratulations. You hand them the gift. You drive off.
Even better, do it at a Taco Bell during operating hours. Then you kill two birds with one stone. You give the wedding gift. They hand you a taco and chalupa.
I am off to suggest this to some of wife’s relatives who are getting married this summer. I hope they recognize brilliance when they hear it.
Just in time for the new 2010 line of cars, I’d like to introduce…
…the Pearls Roadster:
Well, they’re not in commercial production. Yet.
But this Pearls fan in Colorado made one for himself.
Here’s the view from the back, where I see he’s even got Danny Donkey and Snuffles on there.
And for bonus points, he’s even got the four Pearls plush ready to be blown away by some huge stereo woofers.
If you can top this man for sheer Pearls-devotion, send along the photos and I’ll post them here. Provided they’re clean. And you don’t tattoo anything on your baby’s forehead.
Because I am a kind and generous man (and because I was getting lunch next door to there), I just stopped in my local Copperfields bookstore in Santa Rosa and signed more Pearls books. By request, I tried to draw some with Pig and Snuffles in them (as opposed to my usual Rat). There aren’t a ton of them, so if you want one, you’ll probably need to call soon. 707-578-8938.
I have been in a philosophical mood of late. Thinking a lot of deep thoughts.
Foremost among these thoughts has been which of the Seven Dwarves I’d most like to be stuck on a desert island with.
Easiest to cross off the list is Sneezy. All repetitive noises drive me insane. After an hour of that bearded weirdo sneezing, I’d be forced to kill him.
Next is Sleepy, with a qualifier. I am assuming based upon his age, fatness and general poor health, Sleepy is also Snorey. That falls under the heading of repetitive noise. Nightie night to Sleepy.
Happy is an absolute no-go. The last thing I want to see when I get up in the morning is a perky dwarf. I’d kill him faster than Sneezy.
Doc is tempting, due to his smarts. But he is also the fattest of the bunch. And I fear he’d devise clever ways to steal my food. So nix Doc.
Dopey’s sweetness and stupidity is an intriguing combo. I could exploit that to steal his food. He also doesn’t talk, which is a double bonus. But he smiles a lot, and that alone makes him intolerable.
Grumpy is great on an abstract, philosophical level. Like me, he hates people, so he won’t be perky in the morning. But I fear this island is only big enough for one misanthrope, so he’s got to go.
That leaves me with my pick: Bashful. Given that he is overly self-conscious, I will make fun of him on Day One. I will point out his overly-effeminate eyes and stupid dwarfish garb, wholly inappropriate for island life. He will be so mortified that he will flee to the other side of the island and hide under a bush, where he will most likely remain until eaten by natives.
These are the thoughts on my mind.
So yesterday, I’m in my crowded gym, waiting for a free space on one of the treadmills. On the TV overhead is CNN and they’re showing a story on the swine flu.
Out of nowhere, I get a tickle in my throat. And I cough.
People on the treadmill turn back and stare. One gets off her treadmill and walks away. Quickly.
I take her treadmill.
It is at that moment that I realize that this swine flu paranoia has its upside.
I will try this in the Safeway line.