Sometimes don’t you feel almost guilty when everything just seems to work out right? Man, I have been on a roll here lately. Yeah, the last 69 years have been awesome.
OK, that’s probably a little too macro (and sappy) to be believable. Let’s get down to the micro. For the last week or two, everything I do is golden. It all started when I got a parking ticket over on South Lake Avenue when I went to the Souplantation for lunch. I park my car. I pay the parking fee at the meter with my credit card. I put the salad and muffins and bread and cookies on the tray. I eat the muffins and bread and cookies and dump the salad. I go back out to the car and there is a ticket on my windshield.
Sumbitch. (No, that’s not the happy part.) I decide to fight the ticket, so I write this heart-breaking letter to the city of Pasadena, sincerely informing them that I did indeed pay the ticket and I had used my credit card and the meter showed me a big OK after I slid it and I thought I was a good citizen. I told them there was no way I would cheat them and not pay, and I mentioned that maybe I was an orphan, and that they shouldn’t worry that I was the only person to get polio since 1973, and that I was an LA Kings fan.
Well, in a couple of days I received a short letter informing me that I did not have to pay the ticket. I, of course, yelled, “Yes,” to the gods and did an end zone dance that would have made Terrell Owens pee in his pants. Was my luck changing?
Yes, it was. I go down to serve jury duty and they sadly informed me that my services were no longer needed. I told them that they were the second governmental entity in two days that had done right by me and I asked if it was appropriate for me to kiss someone. Maybe a young intern who had just celebrated her 18th birthday. They suggested I send them a note.
On the way home from the courthouse I stopped for gas and as I was filling up I see a promotion to get a $50 Dining Card if you buy 100 gallons of gas. I say, “Sheeeit, Big Fella, you gonna buy 100 gallons of gas anyway, huh?” So when I get home I go on the Internet and sign up for a Mobil Exxon card and in a few days they send me the card, and they also send me a $50 Dining Card ahead of time. And they say I will receive a second $50 Dining Card after I buy the 100 gallons of gas. Yes, that sound you just heard was me clicking my heels. Life is good. Maybe Randy Newman wants to go to Sizzler with me.
So now, as long as I am on the Internet, I decide to go into my American Airlines account to see about my upcoming trip to Cabo, and they have this little note asking me if I would like to print my boarding pass right now and save time at the airport. How can one guy be so lucky. This is America.
I go out to the kitchen to tell Marge about my good fortune and she tells me that on Friday night we are going to a play and having dinner. (OK, my luck had to run out sometime.) I said what is the play about, Peachy Lips? She said, “About a font.” And then I said maybe the dumbest thing I have ever said, “Which font?” And Marge just looked at me cooler than Tony Soprano talking to a fish and said, “Futura.”
And you know what? The play was actually good! I couldn’t believe it. I enjoyed a play about a font. I was all set to fake liking it, but I didn’t have to pretend. My luck had just gotten a second wind, baby. And then we went to La Luna Negra on Green Street and ate these incredible sinful shrimp tapas and carnita tapas and bacon pork tapas and had margaritas and dipped bread into this oily olive stuff. Pinch me.
The next day, after squeezing the residual oil out of my cheeks, I decided to press my luck and tried to install that new Apple TV box. You know, that little attachment where you can now stream TV shows and movies and music and photos to your TV set. My record with installing things is similar to the record of the French army in warfare. But with my recent streak of good things happening, I went ahead.
And — hold on to your shorts, Aunt Bessie — I did it! I hooked the HDTV cable to the TV, I hooked up audio wires, I put in Wi-Fi codes, I figured out the remote, I got a FLICKR account, I uploaded my photos, I did it all. And it worked!
I am one happy bandito, baby. Getting ready to go to Cabo tomorrow and maybe toss back a few Cabo Wabo Tequilas and toast my run of good luck. Damn, I just hope this little streak makes it past the head-lopping-off part in Mexico. Ole!
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