Finally, the Gift World Is Starting to Understand Men

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction: Case # 302.

COLUMN: Embrace Your Inner Dullness

Image by AGlassDarkly via Flickr

Tobin Barnes
We as humans are always waiting for something. When it finally comes, our reaction is usually, “Huh…no big deal after all,” so then we start waiting for something else. It’s an anticipatory rut that continues throughout life, but (alas), we never smarten up.

Take me, for instance. Right now, I’m waiting for my dog to get a cone off its head. She was neutered about a week ago, and the vet put this plastic cone around her head so she wouldn’t mess with her incision. And it works great, as far as that’s concerned. But it’s a real pain, for us and the dog.

You’d think as smart as dogs can sometimes be that they’d adjust to this little inconvenience—as in, “Let’s see, this cone extends a little ways on either side of my head. I just have to make sure I’ve got some clearance from walls and doors and furniture when I go anywhere. Whole thing’s really pretty simple, now that I think about it. Maybe someday they’ll finally take this danged thing off me.”

Nope, nothing like that evidently happens in a dog’s mind. No spatial compensation is ever made for that plastic cone. The walls continue to get scraped up, the furniture takes a heck of a beating, and the door jambs are repeatedly assaulted with direct cone hits. And this will continue until that danged thing comes off.

I know. This continued to happen the numerous times our other dog had to wear a cone just like it’s happening now. So, again, I’m waiting for the blessed day when the cone comes off, even though I suspect it’ll seem like a relatively small blessing that will quickly be forgotten in anticipation of another blessed event.

Like the end of winter. Boy, can’t wait for that one, either.

The local weather guy says we’re on track to have the seventh coldest winter in recorded history in this region—yeah, seventh coldest, for crying out loud.

But what a booby prize that is. You’re not getting first, you’re not even getting second, but you’re still suffering through the seventh coldest, which is probably mere hundredths of a degree different from the coldest.

Yeah, so after that realization, what do you have left but to go back to thinking about getting that dog cone out of your life? And then what? Well, looking forward to getting done with a long, cold winter that makes you think that having a coneless dog would be a transformative experience.

I agree. This is starting to sound like a disturbed mind at work.

Happily, it’s times like these that I realize it’s all okay. Hey, I’m immune to serious meltdown. Why? Because I’m a dull guy and all this is pretty much par for the course. This kind of thinking is right smack dab in the living room of where I’m meant to be.

If I need any more convincing, I just make a quick trip on the Internet to Dullmen.com, and I’m in my comfort zone again. There, I’m reassured that these thoughts are normal. That is, for me.

I’ve talked about Dullmen.com before. I’ve always thought of that discussion as a service, really. I’ve thought a reminder of what dulldom is all about would help settle you the way it settles me.

Well, I think it’s time to go back for another therapy session or two.

First thing we notice at Dullmen.com are some comforting slogans to let you know that your kind of guy—yeah, you—is welcome here. Slogans like, “It’s OK to be dull” and “We’re giving a good name to a four-letter word.”

And if you need any more reassurance, read on: “We don’t try to keep up with the Joneses (who are the Joneses, anyway?),” “Seeking glitz and glam? Why bother?” and “Think inside the box — it’s safer there.”

Feeling better already?

I knew you would. Only trouble is our time is up for this therapy session. Happens all the time, doesn’t it? Start making headway and the session ends.

Well, I’ll meet you back here next time during our regular appointment, and we’ll delve further into your inner dull man. Until then, remember, you were “Born to be mild.”

I won't be able to pass this test. I'll never be able to fly again.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Monologue | Thursday night on “The Late Show With David Letterman” on CBS: Spring training started. And the Phillies, look out for the Phillies. They get this guy, Roy Halladay, the best pitcher in all of baseball. But listen to this, the Mets, very competitive. You know who they signed? They signed that guy who threw the shoes at President Bush.

Windows Vista: Predator Edition from P. Kamuf on Vimeo.

COLUMN: It's Our Third Dog

Image by Yersinia via Flickr

By Tobin Barnes

Okay, so we got another dog.

She’s the third dog we’ve had in the last year. Actually, we’ve even got some time to go before that year is out. It’s been such a short time, my wife forgetfully calls this third dog by three different names at various times.

The other two dogs died in our care.

I think our history might be making the third dog a tad nervous.

Of course, we had nothing to do with the other two dogs’ deaths. The first one died last spring of kidney failure and old age. Alas, so it goes.

The other dog—a fun, frisky pup—died of some strange, rare disease. Again, not our fault unless unbeknownst to us, we’re host organisms of strange, rare dog diseases. Only time will tell on that one before we have definitive proof. I hope it doesn’t take too many dogs.

We loved both those dogs and hated to see them go, especially the pup, so far before its time.

The third dog’s nervousness can’t possibly come from knowing our recent history. Couldn’t have anything to do with it. Unless…unless…. Dogs do have an amazing sense of smell. Perhaps this dog smells death upon us—dog death, and she has drawn her own conclusions.

Anyway, we’re starting with an adult dog this time, as opposed to starting with puppies as before. Puppies, outrageously cute though they are, can be tough on the nerves, and they’re a colossal time drain to boot. I had documented both those difficulties in a prior column last fall.

Therefore, we decided to see if we could skip that part, as well as the so-called, dog- teenaged time, and move on to the more contemplative moods of responsible dog adulthood. So now we have an instant three-year-old dog, pre-named Molly (but sometimes known around here as Matty or Scout). And she’s everything we were looking for, except maybe that she’s a little too tense and a good ten pounds overweight.

In addition to being pre-named, Molly was pre-packaged with fat, maybe in case survival in the wilds of Alaska became an issue. We feel like we rescued her from the fat farm where she evidently got little exercise, but extensive grazing rights at an all-inclusive, well-stocked dog buffet.

So now Molly’s adjusting to life at the Barnes Boot Camp. It’s probably been like going from the penthouse to the outhouse as far as ease and calories are concerned. From her point of view, she’s lately been sorely under-fed while heartlessly over-exercised under our regime. She might even think that this is what killed the other dogs that used to live here.

Nevertheless, she seems to be a very obedient and submissive dog. Either that or she’s petrified that the end is near amongst the cruel hard-hearts here at the sweatshop.

She watches us like a hawk, and the least sudden movement on our part startles her into life-and-death preparedness like she’s trying to survive amidst rush-hour traffic.

But gradually, it’s been getting better. Hopefully, she’ll learn to trust us.

As I said, she’s exactly what we were looking for, especially when it comes to leash walking. We never did get that aspect right with our first dog, Matty. Evidently, through our bumbling efforts, we taught her to be a first-class sled dog that could pull cargo through the worst blizzard the Yukon could offer. But that kind of torque never really worked for casual walks through the park.

And leash walking our three-month-old puppy? Forget-about-it. We were still in the realm of future aspirations on that one.

With Molly, on the other hand, it is loose-leash heaven, just like out of the dog books. No tugging, no pulling, no tests of brute strength that pit brute against dog. But there’s just one thing. She always walks behind us, not beside us. And when we turn to see how she’s doing, she tucks herself around behind us again. In actuality, we don’t see much of her on the typical walk.

Perhaps that will change when Molly realizes that she just might survive here, despite all evidence to the contrary.

We're in the Future!

Best Caption:

“Hurry up, bus, before someone else sacks Fifth Avenue!”

— ­ Posted by Robin Edmiston, Halifax, Nova Scotia

Runners-up:

The Chinese delegation walks out on the “who really invented pasta” talks.

— Posted by Charles Almon, Brooklyn

“Oh, dear. I thought you said you wanted more Romans in our marriage.”

— Posted by Pplusplus, Palisades, N.Y.

Read more captions here.

Monologue | Thursday night on “The Late Show With David Letterman” on CBS: A couple of days ago, there was the annual race, people come from all over the world, and they race up the stairs of the Empire State Building. Wait a minute. You want to get your heart racing, you really want to get it pump pumping? Do what I do. Drive to work in a Toyota. Read more…

Toyota dealers have been swamped with calls about vehicles that may have uncontrollable acceleration problems. The dealers tell them, “Hurry on in” … like Toyota drivers have a choice. — Jerry Perisho