The Locklear Letters
Page 5
4. Doody Gumpis
Doody had the gall to tell me that Nancy O’Hare, my junior high dream girl, had a goldfish-shaped mole on her left breast. Attempting to defend her honor, I got my ribs beat up pretty good. Even worse, Doody ended up taking Nancy to the graduation dance, and, while doing the Latin hustle, he pulled down the top of her dress to reveal the mole. It was shaped more like a wide-mouth bass than a goldfish, though.
5. The Ridgewood Braves basketball team
Sometimes I get pretty excited when I’m in a close game. Sometimes I go a bit overboard. Anyhow, this time we were up by four points with a minute to go, so they fouled me just to stop the clock. Their center grabbed me around the neck and threw me down. So, I jumped up and yelled, “C’mon, I’ll take you all on.” They accepted. My teammates left to get Gatorade.
6. Scott Hilmer
I told everyone that I went out with Scott’s sister when I really didn’t. She was so embarrassed that she made her whole family move to another state. Scott got mad because he wanted to stay.
7. Debbie Kastern
I would rather not talk about this one, okay?
8. Mr. Carlson
Mr. Carlson was my homeroom teacher in tenth grade. I once ran into him at a drugstore on a day when I had stayed home even though I was supposed to give an oral report on the history of Dutch housing. He said that he was glad to see that I was feeling better. Then he ran into me with his car.
9. An Unnamed Member of the USC Trojans Marching Band
I made a joke about how the Trojans running back fumbled twice in last month’s game against the Bruins. She hit me over the head with her trombone. Which begs the question: WHAT KIND OF GIRL PLAYS THE TROMBONE IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?!
GO BRUINS!
Girls Who Won’t Speak to Me
BY SID STRAW
For some reason, I have trouble dealing with girls. I always mess up. I always say something or do something completely wrong. Anyway, because of this, there are hordes of girls who refuse to ever speak to me again. This is part of an inexhaustive, multi-volume list I am currently compiling. I’m going to give each volume a Roman numeral to make it look cool.
1. Katie Lynch
I put a salamander down the back of her dress at our First Holy Communion. Not only did it wreck the dress, but it completely ruined the ceremony. She got really embarrassed, because when she first felt the salamander she yelled out, “Holy shit!” in front of the bishop and God and everyone.
2. Cathy Eddard
She worked all day once to make veal cordon bleu for some special dinner that the French Club was having, and my friends and I ate it when she ran next door to borrow something. She ended up bringing Triscuits with Cool Whip on top, and they tossed her out of the club, even though she was the treasurer.
3. My sister, Amy
My friend Jeff and I played Frisbee with her brand-new Bobby Sherman album and it broke. We pasted it back together and it sounded okay to us, but she said we had to buy her a new one. We agreed, but when we got to the store she said she wanted the Tony DeFranco album instead. We said, “No way,” that we were only willing to replace the album. The case is still in litigation, and I haven’t gotten a Christmas present in over 10 years.
4. Anna Van Aker
I once told her that she walked like she was constipated.
5. Nancy Watkins
I forgot to take her home from our junior prom. I mean, it just slipped my mind. Those things happen, you know.
6. Vickie Belvinter
My best friend, Ken, used to call her up every day, listen to her voice, and hang up. Then, like a jerk, he told her that I was the one who was doing it all of the time. Anyhow, she ended up going out with him even though I was the one who really liked her, and I swear I never called up to listen to her. Okay, maybe once, but I really didn’t enjoy it. I swear.
7. Irene Santello
I hooked her poodle, Muffin, up to our new electric garage-door while we were talking. I had no idea my dad was coming home early that day. Cross my heart.
8. My Aunt Peg
My little sister, Amy, and I chipped in to get her some electrolysis last Christmas. She wasn’t one of our favorite relatives anyhow, so we really didn’t care too much when she ran upstairs crying and refused to come down for the turkey and stuffing. Which meant more turkey and stuffing for US!
9. Elaine Villa
I hid in Elaine’s gym locker one day hoping to surprise her when she got back from playing field hockey. But I didn’t know girls take their showers before they go back to their lockers. She was really mad that I saw her naked when we weren’t married.
10. Kristin Alderkite
We shared a locker during our sophomore year in high school, and she used to keep a black bra in there. Well, on Halloween I cut some holes in it and used it for a mask. She got really angry because it was her mom’s. How weird is that, having your mom’s bra in your locker? I mean, imagine if I kept my dad’s underwear in my locker.
11. Kate Haskell
Last summer I drove up to New Jersey to visit her. We went out to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant (where I impressed her by asking the waiter what “flavor” wine they stocked) and had some long conversations. Eventually I told her that I thought I loved her. She said she didn’t feel the same way, then thanked me for doing her laundry for her all last semester.
12. Terri Manson
I told everyone that her cousin was Charles Manson as a joke, and it ended up that it was true. She could have played along when I said it, but she started crying in front of everyone. Then everyone started yelling “Helter Skelter” whenever they saw her, which caused her to develop a really frightening facial twitch. She had to go to therapy. I’m sorry about this one, I swear.
13. Gina Pestler
Tim Pestler, Gina’s brother, was one of my good friends in high school (he became my very best friend in the whole world when I found out that Gina was his sister), so I used to hang out at her house a lot. Anyhow, once she and her mom came back earlier than they were supposed to from shopping, and Gina caught me trying on her beige jumpsuit in her bedroom. I think she threw the jumpsuit out after that.
14. Anita Pencilsharpener I made fun of her name.
15. Tracy Swid
Freshman year, I wrote Tracy a bunch of anonymous notes explaining how beautiful I thought she was. Then I was stupid enough to introduce myself and admit that I had written them. She was mad because she was expecting someone taller. And cuter. And smarter. And funnier. And more exciting. And more athletic. She was not at all impressed when I informed her that I was the best athlete in my whole family. Which was a lie anyway.
GO BRUINS!
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
To the Skylar Publishing Company:
Enclosed please find a check for $24.99 for Write Like A Pro: A Guide to Writing Success for the Intermediate Writer. As a former writer, I ask that you use care to make sure you send me the “intermediate” level book, rather than the “beginner” book.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
To the Editor:
As a longtime resident of Maryland (I’ve lived here my entire life except for college) I have always enjoyed reading The Sun. I truly believe that it is the nation’s best newspaper. Baltimore is lucky to have such an excellent source for its news.
I do not know how this is normally done, but I wanted to speak with you about becoming a columnist for the newspaper. Although it’s been a great many years, I was a columnist for my college newspaper. While attending UCLA, I wrote a column called “The Bear Facts,” which students seemed to enjoy immensely. I am attaching a copy of one of the columns as a sample. I hope you will find it entertaining. I believe that your readers would enjoy reading a similar col
umn about Baltimore. Perhaps it could be called something like “Straw on Baltimore,” or “The Straw Man.” Of course, I would leave the name of the column to you.
I’ve already given some thought to some of the subjects I could write about: how everyone calls each other “hun” here; how they’re always doing construction on Interstate 95; how it’s hard to look intellectual when you’re cracking open a crab with a mallet; how I saw the anchorwoman for the Channel 2 News, Mary Beth Marsden, in the mall last week, and she’s even prettier in person than she is on TV; how no one goes to Orioles games anymore because the team stinks; how all the kids here play lacrosse, which no one else in the world has even heard of; etc., etc., etc.
I hope you will be as excited about this idea as I am. Please give me a call at your convenience to discuss it. Although I am busy with a number of other projects, I assure you that I would give this column my utmost attention.
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
What My Little Brother Eats
BY SID STRAW
My little brother, Tom, is basically a good kid except for one irritating quirk—he doesn’t lose his temper. You can yell at him all you want, and he won’t argue back. You can step on his fingers with workboots and pull those little hairs out of his arms and belt him really hard, and he won’t fight back. I know—I’ve tried doing all of those things.
This isn’t to say that he doesn’t get even, because he does. You see, instead of fighting, Tom waits until whoever has angered him is asleep, absent, or merely unsuspecting. Then he eats one of that person’s possessions. It’s a perfect crime since, unless an item doesn’t sit well in his stomach, there is no evidence.
What follows is a partial list of items which I know for a fact that he has consumed. It does not include various household items or personal belongings which have been missing but cannot be traced to him.
Malibu Barbie (and assorted pieces of her wardrobe): My sister Amy said that his new haircut made him look like Helen Reddy. He retaliated by consuming her favorite doll, the one that tans if you stick it under a lamp. The best part of this was that he left one of the severed limbs floating in the bathtub. I swear it was just like Jaws, especially when Amy screamed when she found it.
$95.17: After Tom struck out with the bases loaded in a Little League game, my dad smacked him with a comb and made him cut the lawn even though it was dark outside already. Tom waited for him to take a shower, and then ate all of the money that he had left on his bureau. He ate his Exxon card the next day, but only because Dad had the nerve to accuse him of stealing the money.
An autographed picture of Christie Brinkley: Too painful to talk about.
A sweater: My sister Amy called him a “big retard” in front of all his friends, so he ate the sweater my parents gave her for her piano recital. He denies doing it, but I caught him throwing up sequins in the middle of the night. No kidding.
Recipes: Mom wouldn’t let him shoot off bottle rockets in the backyard. Tom ate her Betty Crocker recipe file. It’s all pretty simple.
A catcher’s mitt: Me again. I was playing golf, didn’t notice him walk up behind me, and accidentally took a divot out of his left cheek. He was such a baby about the whole thing. I mean, I did replace the divot, just like good golfers do. And he really didn’t have to eat my glove since I got grounded for two weeks anyway.
Women’s underwear, size 8: We were at Macy’s department store with our mother once, and the saleslady called him a “little sickie” because he was walking around the ladies’ underwear section. When she turned her back, he started shoving a bunch of those panties with the days of the week written on them into his mouth. He got a Sunday, a Friday, and two Mondays before the saleslady tossed us out.
GO BRUINS!
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Mom,
Thank you again for dinner last night. As always, the meal was terrific.
Sorry that Tom’s shrew of a wife ruined the evening for everyone. Again.
Love,
Sid
P.S. I meant to ask you last night, but I forgot. Do you still have all the old copies of my college column in the attic? If so, I may need to borrow them to get some ideas for The Sun column I was telling you about. Thanks.
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear [Insert Name]:
Thank you for the opportunity to meet with you on [insert date] to discuss the [insert title] position. I was very impressed by the commitment everyone has to take the company into the future! It’s the very type of environment in which I thrive.
If there are any other questions I can answer, please do not hesitate to call.
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Mr. Callahan:
I have heard nothing from Heather. ARE YOU EVEN GIVING MY LETTERS TO HER?
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
To the Editor:
I wanted to follow up on my recent letter about the column that I’d like to write for The Sun.
How about this for an idea: putting the column on the very last page of the Life section and calling it “The Final Straw”? I think most people would enjoy the pun.
I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon.
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear [Insert Name]:
I have not heard from you about the [insert title] position for which I interviewed on [insert date]. As you can imagine, I must make a decision about my career shortly. I look forward to hearing from you soon and hope to help take your company into the future!
Sincerely,
Sid Straw
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Heather,
I am writing to you from the train on the way back home from New York. I went up to spend the weekend with Dave Lambert and his family. (Dave said to say hello. So, “hello.”) His wife, Sarah, is terrific, and they have three great kids. We had a terrific weekend, sitting out by the pool, cooking on the grill (shish-kebabs, corn-on-the-cob, etc., etc.), watching videos, etc., etc. A terrific time, and it certainly made me forget that I’ve been out of work, at least for a while. (I didn’t tell Dave and Sarah that I’m out of work. I told them I’m working as a “consultant” these days, and they didn’t ask for details. Fortunately.)
You know how sometimes it’s the little moments that make you smile? Well, I had one of those this weekend. Dave and I took his son, Jon, to the batting cage on Saturday afternoon. Jon went in the super-slo pitch cage and did pretty well. Then Dave and I decided to try the fast pitch cage. Dave went first, and he did pretty well. Then I went in, and it was amazing—I was hitting everything! Every pitch—Whack! Whack! Whack! I couldn’t have missed if I tried. Then I heard Jon say to Dave, “Jeez, Dad, you told me Mr. Straw was good, but you didn’t tell me he was this good.” That definitely made my day. (Actually, the way things have been going, that made my month.)
Dave also told me a very funny story I’d never heard before. It seems that Dave grew up in Meadville, Pennsylvania, which is the same town where the famous actress Sharon Stone grew up. You may have known that if you know her. Anyway, they went to high school together, and apparently Sharon Stone (who Dave said was called “Sharrie” back then) apparently she was babysitting at Dave’s friend’s house. So Dave and his friend went over there, and Dave started wrestling with her on the living room floor and ended up giving her a “wedgie,” which you may recall is what we called
it if you tugged on someone’s underpants very hard. Sarah says that Dave tells everyone about how he gave Sharon Stone a wedgie! And she says he claims that’s the reason she wasn’t wearing any underwear in that famous scene in the movie Basic Instinct! Pretty funny, don’t you think?
Well, I hope your weekend was as enjoyable as mine. Looking forward to seeing you at the reunion.
Eat Wheaties!
Sid Straw
P.S. Unless you hear otherwise from me, please remember to tell people at the reunion that I’m a “consultant,” okay? Hopefully, I’ll have another position by then. In fact, I’m considering a number of opportunities right now, including pursuing a “dream” job—columnist for Baltimore’s daily newspaper, The Sun.
Sid Straw
2748 Palmeyer Street Apt. 230
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Dear Dave and Sarah,
Thanks for a terrific weekend. You have great kids and a beautiful home. I had a great time. (And if you’re missing anything, I did not take it! I swear!)
I hope you’ll make a trip down to Baltimore sometime soon. It’s a great town, and I think you and the kids would enjoy it: the Inner Harbor, the National Aquarium, crabs, the Orioles, etc., etc. Just let me know what weekend you want to come down, and I’ll clear my work schedule.
Looking forward to seeing you soon—at the reunion, at the very latest.
Again, my thanks.
Best wishes,
Sid
P.S. And thanks for the great story about giving Sharon Stone a wedgie! It makes me laugh every time I think about it.