I’m a laugh-of-the-day calendar fan. Every year I head to the one remaining book store in this country to buy a funny calendar so I can begin each day with a good laugh. It’s much more fulfilling than looking at myself in the mirror every morning. I used to laugh at myself. Now I’m just scary looking.  

My favorite funny calendar is the classic out-of-print Gary Larson’s The Far Side. Larson loved to make animals do very funny things, but he was also partial to condiments. In fact, my favorite cartoon takes place inside a refrigerator. On the shelf, there’s a bowl of potato salad. He’s pointing a gun at a bottle of ketchup and a jar of mustard. They have their hands up. The caption simply says, “When potato salad goes bad.” 

I’ve always wondered what my condiments were doing when I close the fridge door. I just didn’t realize how dangerous life could be for them.

Why do I care so much about condiments anyway? Frankly I don’t, but they are the life blood of Stroke of Genius. I’ve never seen anything like it. Here’s one of our typical discussions.

ME: “Why are there three jars of mustard in the fridge?”
SOG: “Well, the first one was getting low, so I got out my back up and used it. Next time I looked for the mustard, I couldn’t find any so I pulled out my third spare. You never want to run out.”
ME: “Right. I think the Mayans said the world would end when there were no more condiments.”

My refrigerator shelves also hold at least two bottles of ketchup, three varieties of mayo, two kinds of butter, a dozen pickle choices and 47 bottles of lo-cal dressings. Ok, I admit it. Women on continuous diets must have salad dressing options. But the rest of that stuff is all for Stroke.

Condiments are the glue that holds his life together. Panic ensues when he doesn’t have several spares of each in the pantry. Personally, I can imagine a world without mayo.

I can only assume it’s because Stroke of Genius is a typical man. Give him spaghetti or a bowl of chili any day. His life revolves around chicken pot pies, cereal and sandwiches. The phrase “au gratin” scares him so I change the names of the dishes I serve. Potatoes Au Gratin translates into taters with cheese. Shrimp Scampi? Noodles with some shrimp. Chicken Marsala?  Chicken with brown gravy. No need to scare the man. He’s pretty skinny and he really needs to eat.

And then there’s pepper. I was forced to buy a Costco card just to keep up with Stroke’s pepper intake. I’m already sneezing at the thought of sitting next to him at the dinner table. Ironically, Dearly Demented Mom accused me of peppering everything I served her, which I never did. Stroke grumbles because he swears I never add pepper to anything. No wonder professional chefs hate food reviews.

Though I struggle through the idiosyncrasies of this man, my daily comedy calendar offers support. Just last week, my calendar’s cartoon made me laugh out loud. It showed a can of pepper talking to a jar of Italian seasoning, a head of garlic and a bottle of sage. The pepper said “Hi!” and the others responded with a variety of “Hey, Hello, and Yo!” It was entitled, “Seasons Greetings.”

Maybe Stroke is right. When we diet for our New Year’s Resolutions, we should use condiments and seasonings in abundance. Hopefully, it’ll spice up the New Year.

Spreading laughter throughout the world…one chuckle at a time.

Mikie Baker
www.mikiebaker.com