The Knights of the Auto Order Proudly Present: The Auto Body Estimate: Vol. II, #63, June 2005
Humorist Dave Barry suggests that you should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment. My variation, based on personal experience, is that you should never assume anyone working at Ragstock is wearing a Halloween costume, even if it’s October 31st and they’re obviously decked-out in an over-the-top, comic “biker lady” getup.
While Becca, my actress-wife, has never played a biker lady, she’s played a pregnant lady before, and she is again today, only this time IT’S NOT A COSTUME! That’s right, after years of trolling without a snag (not even a stump) we finally had success after changing to the Hula Popper (the fishing analogy is Becca’s). Now, despite her years of waitress experience, Becca will soon unleash one more “cracker bomber” to the restaurants of the world.
I’m still a little in shock (albeit pleasant shock) about the whole thing. While one part of me knows I’ve never been responsible enough for such an endeavor in the past, another part of me worries that I might be a little old for this. How old? When I hear couples talk about having “done it” in every room of their house, I assume they’re talking about falling asleep. Then again, that could explain why it’s taken this long for a baby to magically appear.
We’re already enjoying all manner of prenatal fun, including painting Becca’s belly like a Magic Eight Ball and impressing the neighbors at how is masterfully “Belly” answers any questions: “What do politicians do?”; “What is the secret behind Brittany Spears popularity?”; and: “What verb is the root of the grocery store pig’s last name?”
In each case, Belly successfully answers: “Wiggle.”
We’re also relying on our new mutt, Snickers, to instruct us about what not to do when housing juveniles. Last week Snickers climbed up on the counter, chewed through two medicine bottles, and ate over 20,000 mg of two different antibiotics. Due to his extensive medical training he quickly resolved to pump his own stomach, by any means necessary, again and again and again. We’ve since decided to rebuild our counters at a height of eight feet.
While some people paint murals on their guest bedroom walls as they anticipate childbirth, I’m working like mad to finish our upcoming CD, planning the CD release show (please reserve Friday, August 12), and regularly pointing out that paint fumes are unhealthy for babies! Really! I’ve also booked a gig at O’Gara’s on Wednesday, June 15th. Although it’s a school night, we play one set starting at 9:00 so the early risers among us can still get home in time for a full night’s sleep (infant interruptions not withstanding). Those of us wearing “big boy pants” will no doubt want to stick around and enjoy another fabulous set by our favorite band from Vancouver – the Clumsy Lovers. (See www.clumsylovers.com for details.)
Those of you who made the last O’Gara’s gig know that Trey didn’t, due to seven-hour plane delay caused by a freak late-season snowstorm. Trey promises to not engage in any air travel prior to this gig. Our bassist Tom Larson and his lovely wife Mary Stolee, however, are planning to have a baby of their own towards the end of June. If Tom is forced to decide between playing O’Gara’s and attending the delivery, we might be bass-less. That said, anyone familiar with the Auto Body song about Tom’s promptness will support my belief that a fear of future Larsons arriving early is baseless.
-Scott Yoho, Grand Pooh Bah, The Auto Body ExperienceReturn the Estimate Index...