BOA CONSTRICTORS AND OTHER REPTILES


This is my first essay post partum my 90th birthday.  I had meant to dictate it much earlier, but there was the painting of the outside of the house, which was being done by a fellow who was in imminent danger of being self deported.  By this time, I assume that he is safely back in his native country.  Then there was the occasion of my 90th birthday.  For the better part of two weeks, nothing got done as we debated menus and whether we had enough seats to accommodate all the guests.  But that is now all behind us and we must turn our attention to business.
In dictating this essay, I am assuming that there is a degree of sophistication among my readers.  To be specific about it, as I always am, I am certain that my readers understand that as men age, they encounter certain difficulties with their reproductive systems.  A few years ago, the makers of Viagra launched a multi-million dollar campaign to acquaint the world with the term e.d.  The words that the letters e.d. stood for are erectile dysfunction.  They could not stand to use the term erectile dysfunction I suppose, so they tried a campaign using the initials only.  It didn’t seem to work so they went back to the drawing board and said simply that the problem was erectile dysfunction.  I like advertisements that tell me what they really mean, so that my mind, which is in its declining years, can grasp it.
If one happens to live in the general vicinity of New York, there are advertisements in great detail showing the virtues of Viagra.  I had assumed, quite rightly, that all of these advertisements were canned.  But on one occasion about three weeks ago, something must have happened to the recording device.   On that occasion, the announcer read the Viagra commercial by himself.
When he reached the part in the Viagra commercial extolling the virtues of its use, he was knocked out by the obvious effect of the news conveyed in the message on behalf of erectile dysfunction.
Now the fact is that my ears do not lie to me.  This is solely in recognition of the fact that in blindness my ears have to do a lot of the work that used to be taken care of by my eyes.  So when the announcer’s voice reached the word erectile, he pronounced it as “reptile.” I heard the same mistake twice. On both occasions the announcer made a mistake in reading the script that was before him.  On the two occasions, he said that the problem was “reptile dysfunction.”   The plain fact of the matter is that use of the term “reptile” is not what the makers of Viagra had in mind.  Viagra is to cure “erectile” dysfunction and has nothing to do with snakes.
The announcer said that Viagra was the favorite treatment of “reptile” dysfunction.  My fertile brain went to work without my knowing it.  It conjured up, for example, thoughts of a boa constrictor trying to make love to a female boa constrictor and having trouble with his reptile performance.  As you know, boa constrictors squeeze their foes to death.  I assume that the same thing would happen in love-making.  Trying to overcome the throes of reptile dysfunction, it would be quite possible for that male boa constrictor to squeeze his love to death.  What a shame!  Or perhaps she could squeeze him to death while waiting for an erection.
Take the case of rattle snakes.  In this case, I assume that the female rattle snake tried to gain assurance that the male rattle snake would not bite her as he tried to overcome the effects of reptile dysfunction. But according to legend, reptile dysfunction is so severe that the rattlesnake was forced to bite or sting the female rattlesnake.  What a shame!
So you see, as the announcer used the phrase “reptile” dysfunction, he provided the means for this wonderful essay.
Well, as I said, this is my first essay post partum my 90th birthday.  It may prove that my mind is still active or adversely it may prove that I am a dirty old man.  As I head into my 91st year, I will take either conclusion.
Well, that is the story about the essay that demanded to be written which used sledge hammers to call my attention to the fact that I had not written it.  Now that it has been written, or dictated, I hope that you will remember that Viagra will take care of any reptile dysfunction.  I feel enlightened after dictating this advice to all of my readers and a sense of joy has overtaken me.  I am so glad that it will tend to relieve any kind of reptile dysfunction.  I told you that I believe I have performed a great public service.
 
E. E. CARR
August 11, 2012
Essay 681
 
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Kevin’s commentary:
This is the first new essay written since the site went up! Hot off the presses! Here’s hoping for a great many more.
Now:
Growing up, many of my friends would occasionally mention that they enjoyed coming over to eat dinner with my family. Obviously a major draw was getting to hang out with my younger brother Jack who is infinitely more popular than myself, but a close second that was commonly cited was the conversation made by my parents and older brother.
The reason for this, as best as I can tell, is that since my mother and brother both have the sense of humor of 14-year-old boys, vulgarity and obscene jokes (and embarrassing stories) at the dinner table were the norm. My father meanwhile was always more than happy to chime in with his own quips, non-sequiturs and wildly inappropriate remarks, and I could of course hold my own, but the stars of the show were usually Mom and Connor, for the simple reason that they are A) basically the same person and that B) they each find their own jokes hysterical. This creates, as one might imagine, a pretty awful feedback loop of conversation made in poor taste. It was a pretty great place to grow up.
Now the reason that this particular essay reminds me of my dinnertime upbringing is simply that that it is an 813-word exposition on none other than dicks and snakes, written by my 90-year-old grandfather. Now in fairness I don’t know many 90-year-olds but I cannot imagine this is a common practice for them. In any event Pop wrote this essay and knew of this blog’s existence before it was completed. He knew full well that chances are, this exposition on reptile dysfunction will probably be tied to his name forever on the internet, so long as I can afford the $8 yearly hosting fee. But it specifically occurred to me as I was reading the essay that this subject is also precisely the sort of thing that my mom would send out an email to all –literally all — her coworkers about without a second thought. What I’m getting that is that Pop’s humor and mom’s humor are highly similar, a fact that becomes even more painfully evident if you happen to know them both. And in the same way that Pop managed to desensitize mom to crude jokes from what appears to be a very young age, I can probably attribute my selfsame desensitization and rather unusual household environment straight back to Ezra himself.  And I thank him for it.

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