I used to LOVE that SNL sketch where the land shark (Chevy Chase) would knock on the door of some poor, unsuspecting female (usually Jane Curtin or my favorite, Gilda Radner), and say whatever he thought might entice the occupant into opening it – ultimately leading to her being eaten by the land shark.
“mmm, PLUMBER ma’am!”
“Flowers for Miss SMERHSLAM”
Today I actually got a Candygram.
Who doesn’t love a Candygram? What an awesome pick-me-up, on kind of a crappy day!
Okay, it wasn’t technically a Candygram. More like a tower of boxes with candy in them, but the card read “Candygram”, and that is good enough for me. Also good enough for me were the four chocolate covered graham crackers, 7 chocolate truffles, and I lost count of the chocolate covered peanuts and cashews. I did not eat the entire lot, but I would like to point out that today was supposed to be “Day 2” in my preparation for bathing suit season. You know, it’s easier to start on the first day of the month, because it’s a clear beginning and blah blah. So I started yesterday, May 1. And now I’m staring at the half-eaten Candygram.
I should explain that the note on the Candygram said “Candygram – Ha ha ha – you had to know I would! Can’t wait to talk to you! Love, Debs”
Debs (also known as Debby to her sober friends) is one of my longest-running friendships ever. We’ve been friends since 1981, and that is a LONG time, however I recently lost track of her, and have not heard anything from her neck of the woods (the woods in Colorado) for like 2 years or something crazy like that.
So a few months ago I sent her a card that said “I Miss You!” on the front, and then on the inside it said “And I’m not just saying that because there’s nothing on TV.” I love TV, so that is really saying something.
I heard nothing.
THEN, her birthday rolled around (March 22 – please send her a belated Candygram) and I tried emailing an E-Card…nope, the email address was no longer valid. So as April crept by I was thinking “Man! Do I need to call her parents???” Thankfully, with the Candygram, the answer was no.
Bill and Jan Novak would have been none too pleased to have me calling them to ask “Is there going to be a wake?” “Is it open casket?” and “Will it be dressy or business casual? What shoes should I wear?”
But no displeasure could rival that of one summer night, the year after we graduated high school, when Jennifer Trumpis and I dragged a completely pickled Debby into the Novak’s house at 2 in the morning, after a night of Jim Beam shots. They made us hold her over the sink, and try to induce vomiting. She had taken some painkillers earlier in the evening, for her recent wisdom tooth extraction – a tidbit she had not chosen to share with us. Painkillers plus Jim Beam equals bad times. So we were hovering over the sink, trying to prop up the dead weight that was swaying back and forth, with her eyes closed.
While Jennifer and I were suppressing drunk snickers, Jan was saying “Debby, open your eyes!” to which Debby would respond by raising her eyebrows very high, while her eyes remained closed. We repeated this several times – it was like Debby was trying to introduce her eyebrows to her hairline – while keeping her eyes tightly shut. Well, Jan had had enough, and, exhausted and furious in her bathrobe, sternly marched right up to Debby’s face and clapped sharply in rapid succession several times, while barking “DEBS! DEBS! WAKE UP! WAKE UP DEBS!” All the clapping and the DEBS, DEBS and the swaying was too much and Jennifer and I exploded laughing. Bill and Jan were not quite as amused. Ever since then, Debby has been known as DEBS, DEBS, WAKEUP DEBS.
We finally got Debs to bed that night, and apologized, with our tails between our legs. The Novak’s are actually really fun people, when their daughter is not near-comatose and swaying over a kitchen sink. They eventually forgave us, but when I review that night in my mind, I still cringe a little, and think that maybe I should send Jan and Bill a Candygram.