Ten Fingers, No Rings

Gerry's Corner: Ever since my daughter made me a tie out of milk caps, I've loved to make and have crafts-y things. I like to read ReadyMade magazine and imagine the possibilities, if I didn't have the fabulous wealth of my ex-presidency to compel me to not actually make any of the projects suggested in those pages. Last year, I spent a week gluing macaroni into the shape of the United States, and then I painted the electoral map from 1976, weeping a little inside. It was cathartic, I guess. Not-Betty said it was a good strategy, anyway. These days, I'm bottling sunshine in mason jars and storing them on the shelf above the washer/dryer, because I'm juuuuust a little crazy now.

Doing crafts-y stuff tends to be a little isolating. Let's face it: Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore are the only people ever to use a pottery wheel together, and if memory serves, they didn't even make anything good. They just got all hot and bothered about each other, and Lord knows I don't want to see that on the big screen (or even on Netflix). The point is, when I'm making fun stuff out of knick-knacks and doo-dads, no one ever seems to want to join me.



You see, I like company, but most of the people I hang around with aren't any fun. Maybe it's because they're assigned to my protection and well-being, but they never seem to enjoy themselves or express libidinous ideas to each other. Do none of them even dare court each other, I wondered, these young people in charge of my care? Are they waiting until their forties?! I mean, get a move on, kids!



Well, when I asked my employees this morning, was I in for a shock! Most of them are actually in long-term relationships or are engaged or even married! They're just not involved with each other, which I thought was a pity. The free spirit's been kicked and knocked from them like someone's teeth in a barroom fight - at least if both members of a courting couple were working for me, there might be the occasional spark, the odd look across the room at each other - something to help me live another day, something to remind me what I have with Not-Betty. Once you get married, though, you have to deposit your fun chips so that they'll turn into a college fund for the inevitable children one day. When you show up at work, you're all about business. When you spend time with friends, you're all about grousing and complaining and talking about lawn mowers. Do you hear me? You're done living when you get married! It's over! Stop it! (Oops - here comes Not-Betty. Time to sign off.)

There is no Soviet domination of Eastern Europe,
Gerry