You Can Date Boys When You're Forty: Dave Barry on Parenting and Other Topics He Knows Very Little About

by Barry, Dave

  Q. What is the correct usage of the word “literally”?

  A. Grammatically, it is an infractual correlative and as such it must always be preceded by the parabolical phrase “would of.”

  Wrong: I literally would of shit a brick.

  Right: I would of literally shit a brick.

  Also right: I would of shit a literal brick.

  Q. When should I use quotation marks?

  A. They are used in four situations:

  1. When referring to fried foods:

  Try our “delicious” squirrel fritters.

  2. When identifying organized criminals:

  Police arrested Joseph “Joey Two Sternums” Patchouli in connection with the rash of submarine thefts.

  3. In sanitary exhortations:

  All employees “must” wash they’re hands before returning to “work.”

  4. When something suspicious is going on:

  “Get into my windowless van little girl you’ll be safe I won’t hurt you,” said “Uncle Bob.”

  THREE “TIPS” FOR EFFECTIVE WRITING

  1.Avoid stiff, unnatural, outdated language. Don’t be afraid to sound like yourself, or even use humor where appropriate.

  Wrong: As a motivated individual, it is my sincere desire to obtain the position of employee within you’re company.

  Right: As a motivated individual, it is my sincere desire to obtain the position of employee within you’re company LOL.

  2.When writing fiction, make sure your first sentence “grabs” your readers and makes them want to read more.

  Wrong: “Hurry!” said Jack.

  Right: “Hurry!” said Harry Potter to the Hunger Games woman.

  3.Be concise and to the point, especially when writing to busy people such as are found in Internet comment areas.

  Wrong: I respectfully disagree with you, and here are some facts supporting my position.

  Right: Your a fascist.

  So you’re planning to take an airplane trip. Good for you! Every year, millions of people “take to the skies” for business or pleasure, and statistically only a small percentage of them are killed.

  Nevertheless, if this is your first flight, or you haven’t flown in a while, or you’re simply one of the many stupid people found in airports, you’re probably unsure about what to expect. So let’s review the basics:

  Q. I have an infant or small child. Are there any special preparations I should make for flying?

  A. Definitely. Before you leave home, gather together whatever toys, books or games you will need to keep your child occupied. Then remain home, occupying your child, until he or she is a minimum of sixteen years old.

  Q. When should I leave for the airport?

  A. You should already be at the airport.

  Q. Should I check my luggage?

  A. That depends on several factors, the main one being: Do you ever want to see your luggage again? Also, how much spare money do you have? Most major airlines are bankrupt, so they now charge hefty fees for checking your bags and other “extras” such as food, oxygen and keeping all the engines turned on for the entire flight. The notable exception is Southwest, which has remained profitable by avoiding costly “frills” such as using professional pilots.

  Q. So who is flying the Southwest planes?

  A. English majors wearing pilot hats.

  Q. What are the “do’s” and “don’ts” of airport security screening?

  A. We’ll start with a “do”: Relax! Airport security is handled by the Transportation Security Administration, which is an agency of the federal government (Motto: “A Gigantic Bureaucracy Working for You”). Some TSA procedures may seem ridiculous, but remember this: There are real terrorists out there and it’s the TSA’s job to make sure that these terrorists do not get on an airplane until they have fully complied with TSA procedures.

  FACT: No terrorist has ever boarded a domestic flight with more than 3.4 ounces of toothpaste, as far as we know.

  Make sure your carry-on luggage does not contain any prohibited items, including liquids, gels, gases or solids. If you plan to wear underwear, wear it on the outside of your other garments so that it is clearly visible to the TSA agents. Remove all shoes, belts, sweaters, coats, hats, wigs, eyeglasses, contact lenses, hearing aids, insulin pumps, artificial limbs, pacemakers and donated organs, such as kidneys, and place these in the bins provided, then shuffle or crawl slowly forward in the security line with your head down, taking care not to appear suspicious or make eye contact with anybody.

  The heart of the screening procedure is when you go into the “scanner,” which sounds scary, although, in fact, it’s nothing more than a giant microwave oven that bombards your body with atomic radiation. But there’s no need to worry: The scanner is completely safe for humans as long as (a) you do not remain in there longer than the recommended eight-tenths of a second and (b) TSA agents have remembered to change the power setting from POPCORN back to HUMANS after their break.

  The scanner serves a vital security function: It “sees” through your clothing and captures an image of your naked body, which is transmitted to a room where specially trained TSA agents decide whether to post it on Facebook. If you would prefer not to have this happen, simply ask to have an agent grope your genitals manually. It’s your right!

  The main “don’t” of airport security is: Don’t make inappropriate jokes. TSA agents are responsible for your safety, so they must take every possible threat seriously; if you engage in inappropriate humor, they have no choice but to shoot you.

  Q. How do I know what humor is inappropriate?

  A. You should refer to the official TSA guidelines:

  TRANSPORTATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION CHECKPOINT HUMOR GUIDELINES

  Inappropriate

  Appropriate

  “I have a bomb in my backpack.”

  “I have a bomb in my backpack. Ha-ha! I am just joking around with you in an appropriate manner.”

  “Knock, knock.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Anita.”

  “Anita who?”

  “Anita catch a plane, you morons.”

  “Knock, knock.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Anita.”

  “Anita who?”

  “Here is my government-issued photo ID.”

  Q. How many TSA agents does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

  A. Five. One to screw in the bulb, and four to strip-search an elderly paraplegic woman for no apparent reason.

  Q. How many TSA agents does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

  A. That so-called “elderly paraplegic woman” could be concealing an illegal quantity of toothpaste.

  Q. What do I do if I make it through security?

  A. You should check an airport monitor to determine the status of your flight. If it says “DELAYED,” your flight is delayed.

  Q. What if it doesn’t say “DELAYED?”

  A. Then your flight has been canceled.

  Q. What is the procedure for boarding an airplane?

  A. Most airlines board planes by income level, starting with wealthy people and working down the income ladder to the homeless. Make careful note of your boarding group, which will be printed on your boarding pass. Shortly before boarding time, a gate agent will make an announcement telling passengers that to facilitate the boarding process they should not approach the jet bridge until their group has been called. This is the signal for everybody within two hundred yards, including people who are not even on that particular flight, to charge toward the jet bridge as though the plane is the last chopper out of a city overrun by zombies. You must join this charge or
you will not get an overhead luggage space and they will have to check your suitcase and you will never see it again.

  Q. How do I know which seat on the airplane is mine?

  A. It will be the one directly in front of the screaming infant.

  Q. When the flight attendant announces for the third time that all cell phones must be turned off immediately or the plane cannot leave the gate, does that mean I should turn my cell phone off?

  A. That announcement does not apply to you.

  Q. I’m a little nervous about flying. Is this normal?

  A. Absolutely! Believe it or not, even many airline crew members admit that flying gives them the “jitters.”

  Q. How do they handle this?

  A. They smoke crack.

  Q. What if something goes wrong with the airplane while it’s flying?

  A. There’s nothing to worry about! The pilot will simply land the plane on the Hudson River, where it will float until rescue boats arrive.

  Q. What if we’re not flying over the Hudson River?

  A. Then you will die. Basically, you should restrict your air travel to flights between New York and Albany.

  Q. But I don’t want to go to Albany.

  A. Good, because that flight has been canceled.

  Q. How do airplanes actually fly, anyway?

  A. It may seem like magic, but it’s really just basic physics. A fully loaded 747 weighs around 800,000 pounds, which sounds like a lot until you realize that it’s actually the same as just 1,231 grand pianos. Scientists tell us that to get this weight off the ground, two forces are required: engine “thrust,” which moves the airplane forward until it is going 150 miles per hour, at which point it develops “lift” and rises into the air.

  Q. So you’re telling me that if I got a grand piano going 150 miles per hour, it would rise into the air?

  A. I’m not telling you that. Scientists are telling you that.

  Q. Do you believe them?

  A. I believe they travel by train.

  I am not a religious man, but there is one passage in the Old Testament that has always spoken to me. It’s in the Book of Ruminations, Chapter 4, Verse 2, Row 2, Seat 6, which states: “In thy sixty-fifth year, thou shalt go into the Land of Israel, and thou shalt travel around to every place in a tour bus filled with Jews.”

  And so it was that one day in June I set out with my wife, Michelle, and our daughter Sophie from JFK airport, flying to Tel Aviv on El Al.* We were going to join a tour of Israel sponsored by our synagogue, Temple Judea of Coral Gables, FL. This is a Reform congregation that is open-minded enough to allow even me to be a member. I’m not Jewish. Michelle and Sophie are, but I’m not religious at all. The most spiritual thing I do is sometimes, in times of crisis, quietly ask for a Higher Power, if one exists, to intervene in certain crucial field goals. Other than that, the Higher Power and I pretty much leave each other alone.

  Michelle and I were both a little nervous about going to Israel, which we viewed as a potentially dangerous place. This is pretty funny when you consider that we live in Miami, which is (a) a place where motorists routinely use firearms as turn signals and (b) the only major U.S. city that has in recent years experienced both a massive Burmese python infestation and a cannibal attack.

  But Israel seemed scarier to us because it’s located smack-dab in the middle of the Middle East, which is not one of the world’s mellower regions. Here are some newspaper headlines you will never see:

  HO-HUM! ANOTHER QUIET DAY IN MIDDLE EAST

  Everybody in Middle East Getting Along Great

  And the headline that you will especially never see is:

  ISRAEL VERY POPULAR WITH NEIGHBORS

  So we were wondering whether the Israel trip was a wise move, especially when we got to the El Al check-in area at JFK and saw a uniformed man carrying a large military-style rifle, wandering among the passengers as if prepared to obliterate anybody violating the three-ounce limit on carry-on shampoo. Before we checked in, a serious security man asked us a bunch of serious questions about our trip, which we—desperate to convince him that we were not terrorists—responded to like the von Trapp family on cocaine, speaking in unnaturally perky voices while smiling enthusiastically for no discernible reason.

  Eventually the security man concluded that we were harmless tourist idiots and let us check in. After passing through several more levels of security we reached the concourse, where I stopped at a change booth to exchange some dollars for Israeli currency. To my surprise, this turned out to be called shekels. I had always thought “shekel” was a jokey slang term for “money,” like “moolah.” I wondered if I was being made the butt of a prank played on clueless travelers by bored airport change-booth personnel. (“The moron actually accepted ‘shekels’! Next time let’s see if he’ll take ‘simoleons.’”)

  I pocketed my “shekels” and we proceeded to our gate, where, after one more security check, we boarded an El Al 747 along with what appeared to be the entire population of the East Coast. The flight to Tel Aviv took eleven hours and was uneventful, unless you count the actions of the Airplane Lavatory Blockade Unit (ALBU). This is a highly trained group of operatives who travel on every overseas flight I have ever been on. They wait until everybody else is asleep, then they go into all of the lavatories and close the doors, and they do not come out for the remainder of the flight. I don’t know what they do in there. Possibly their income taxes. All I know is, the ALBU does a crackerjack job of preventing me from using the lavatories, which is why I always arrive at my international destination feeling as though I am carrying a mature water buffalo in my intestinal tract.

  But the important thing was, we made it to Israel safe and sound, eager for adventure. I would have been less eager if I had known that one of the adventures would involve walking backward off a cliff. But I’m getting ahead of the time line. Let’s start at the beginning of my Israel trip diary:

  DAY ONE

  We take a taxi from Ben-Gurion Airport to our hotel. Tel Aviv turns out to be a lot like Miami: It has condos, palm trees, beaches, and drivers who do not believe the traffic laws apply to them personally. Also, nobody is speaking English. But here, instead of Spanish, people speak Hebrew, a language featuring many words that are pronounced as though they are only nanoseconds away from turning into a loogie.

  We’re staying in a large, modern hotel right next to the Mediterranean. It takes me several minutes to check us in and during this time the water buffalo is making it increasingly clear that it yearns to roam free, if you catch my drift. I really, really need to get up to the room. But when I look around, I cannot find Michelle.

  Finally, I track her down in the hotel gift shop. I don’t mean to reinforce an unfortunate gender stereotype here but my wife is the Navy SEAL Team 6 of shopping. She can strike anywhere, anytime, at a moment’s notice. Strap a parachute on this woman and drop her into the remotest part of the Amazon Basin, a place populated only by headhunters still living in the Stone Age, and she will, days later, emerge from the rain forest, staggering, emaciated, bleeding and covered with leeches, but clutching a primitive shopping bag containing a set of souvenir shrunken heads. She will then insist that (1) she got the heads at a good price and (2) they will go really well with our living room.

  What Michelle has found in the Tel Aviv hotel gift shop are menorahs, which are ceremonial candleholders used in celebrating the Jewish holiday of Chanukah. At this point, I become cranky because (1) Chanukah is six months away and (2) thanks to Michelle’s relentless efforts over the years, we already have (this is a conservative estimate) seventy-five menorahs at home. We could open up our own store, called Menorah World. It does not seem to me, there in the hotel lobby, jet-lagged to a near stupor and with the water buffalo rampaging around in my bowels, that purchasing still more menorahs, in the hotel lobby, at this particular moment, is an urgent need. Reluctantly, Michelle agrees to leave the shop, which
is fortunate because we reach our room just in time to avert a seriously disgusting explosive medical development that would have rendered the entire Middle East uninhabitable for decades.

  A short while later, feeling less cranky and, in one case, considerably lighter, we leave the hotel. We have the afternoon off—our organized tour starts tomorrow—so we head for the beach, where we sit down for lunch at an outdoor café. As we gaze upon the beautiful blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea, which has played such a significant role in world history, Sophie makes an observation that reminds us why it is so important to take children along on trips to foreign lands.

  “They have free wifi here,” she says.

  Instantly we grab our phones to check texts, e-mails, tweets, Instagram, Facebook, etc. I know we should be ashamed, but this is what every tourist does. The Messiah could ride a unicycle through a crowded tourist area wearing nothing but a set of bagpipes and if there was free wifi, nobody would notice.

  After lunch we walk along a scenic seaside promenade to Jaffa, an ancient port city containing many fascinating historic sights that we ignore because there is also shopping. I personally am in the market for some cheap rubber sandals because we’ve been told that at some point our tour will involve wading in an ancient underground water tunnel. I find a sidewalk stall where an elderly man is displaying many kinds of footwear, including sandals. I pick up a sandal and show it to the man.

  “Forty shekels,” he says, in a heavy accent.

  At this point, I’m supposed to bargain. All the guide books say so. I’m supposed to offer the man, say, fifteen shekels, and then, in the ancient Middle Eastern tradition, we’ll haggle for a while, and finally we will agree on a price. Or we will kill each other’s entire families. But the rule of buying in a Middle Eastern market is never pay the asking price.