A letter to that guy in the future … me

Dear future self,

I am writing you this letter in hopes that you will learn something from your past self — me. Next year you turn 40, and as such, I think it time you grow up a bit. Shake up that bag of rocks on your shoulders. Overcome some of the obstacles that always get in your way. I’m here to help you with that. So here are some things I think you should always remember:

• Don’t do major outside projects in August. See, August is the middle of summer. The height of summer. By “height,” I mean your hindquarters will spontaneously burst into flames if you go outside. You’ve lived here long enough. You hear your neighbors say things like, “So, you’re not going to be a dang-blasted fool again and do that fence in August, are you?” Heck yeah. ‘Cus I am a dang-blasted fool. But let’s show ‘em. Let’s do a project in … I don’t know … July. When the heat won’t melt the elastic in your underwear. When the mosquitoes haven’t set up blood donor tables for you. Just think about it.

• Also, if you’re ever battling fleas in the yard, forget all the chemical sprays you can get at hardware stores. Forget all the natural remedies you read about on the Internet. Instead, go out and get yourself a good napalm supplier. Gotta’ go big with this one. It’s quicker and you can grill steaks at the same time.

• Stop picking up nails and screws from the street. You always do this! From the goodness of your heart. Ahhh, so nice you are. So nice. And what has it got you — all this generosity for mankind? All this saving other people from flat tires? I’ll tell you what … THREE NAILS IN YOUR OWN TIRES! In one year! Are you kidding me? The universe is out to get us, man. There is no karma. You would be better off sprinkling nails on the street. Maybe that will break the curse.

• When your daughter is singing some beautiful little song … oh, it’s just amazing. Like the sweetest little bird. Don’t just sit there staring at her with a big, drunken monkey grin on your face. She will see this, get embarrassed and say, “What?!? Why are you laughing?” and then run off to join a gang of outlaw circus freaks. Don’t be so obvious. Get a camouflage net like hunters use and only watch her from behind it. Common sense, man! Little girls don’t like gawking dads. Sheesh!

• If you are ever involved again in a presidential candidate visiting the area, don’t tell mom. Remember this one. National security might be compromised. Because as you recall, when you told her about getting to meet Mitt Romney’s advance staff and a whole mess of Secret Service agents, her reaction was, “Why didn’t you call me?!?”

“Why didn’t I call you?” I replied. “Why WOULD I call you? I was working!”

“So. Don’t you think I would have liked to come down there and watch?!?”

No, don’t even mention it. Too many things could go wrong. The family could end up on government watchlists for decades.

• If you buy a new bed again and want to negotiate details like price, delivery or other incidentals, don’t go sit down in the uncomfortable chairs they have at the cash register. And don’t do it standing with your arms crossed in the official tough-guy-negotiating-stance. No, do it while lying down on one of the showroom beds. I just did this the other day and it was AWESOME! The most enjoyable experience I’ve ever had spending money. I’m thinking about buying another bed just to do it all over again. You lay on the bed and the salesman says, “Want me to call my manager and see what I can do?” You say, “Yeah, why don’t you go do that … snore!” It was the greatest, most obnoxious, most decadent deal-making ever! Try this with other things, too … like buying a new car. Just lay down in the salesman’s cubicle. Do everything from the floor. I’m telling you, it’s a great way to stay focused AND comfortable.

• Most of all, if any of this causes you problems: Don’t call me. I’m still out working on the yard in the middle of August. Say, know where I can get some napalm?

You may also like