Is This Anything?

by Jerry Seinfeld

Distance by Time You can measure distance by time. “How far away is that place?” “About 20 minutes.” But it doesn’t work the other way. “When do you get off work?” “Around 3 miles.”

Car-tastic I love cars. It’s my favorite physical object. I don’t know why I think this. My only theory is, when you’re driving: You’re outside and you’re inside. You’re moving and you’re completely still, all at the same time.

Opposite Clothes For some reason humans like to dress in clothes that are the exact opposite of who they really are. Can’t play the sport? Wear the jersey. Morbidly obese? Walk around in a jogging outfit. No talent, skills or ability of any kind? Put on a fancy suit. Announce you’re running for office, and would like to be in charge of everything.

Parent Style I am not a huge fan of the parenting style of the current generation, in which I include myself. I have no idea what happened, but somehow we got just a little too all into it. Where did we learn this? When we were kids, our parents didn’t give a damn about us. Here’s how you grew up. You were born to people. You lived in their house. The day you moved out you turned around and went, “That was insane. I did not understand 90% of the last 18 years. But I appreciate it. And will be back to visit the minimum acceptable number of times. Nice doing business with you.” (handshaking) We couldn’t wait to get out of that house. Our kids can’t wait to stay right where they are. They know there’s nothing better out there. When mine were little, getting them to sleep every night was like a Royal Coronation Silver Jubilee Centennial. That’s how many different steps and moments there were to it. It started with my wife and I picking up the back of their little bathrobes, and holding them off the floor, (taking one step at a time like holding a royal wedding gown) as we proceeded down the hall to the bathroom, for the brushing, flossing, plaque rinse and dental appliance ceremonies. Then to the bedrooms for the pillow arrangement blanket adjustment and stuffed animal semi-circle of emotional support. To help the little cretins get through 9½ hours without constant positive reinforcement. I had to read each kid eight different moron books. You know what my bedtime story was…?

DARKNESS. My favorite character was the complete absence of light. That was the book I read every night.

In My 60s I love being in my 60s. I want to be clear about that. It’s my favorite decade of human life so far. When you’re in your 60s, and someone asks you to do something, you just say, “No.” No reason. No excuse. No explanation. I can’t wait for my 70s. I don’t even think I’ll answer. I think you just wave when you’re in your 70s. That’s what I’ve seen those people do… “Hey, you want to check out that flea market…?” (Walks away and just “waves it off” without looking back…) I like this time.

I don’t want to change, grow, improve myself, expand my interests, meet anyone or learn anything I don’t already know. I don’t lie in restaurants anymore. “How is everything?” “I don’t like it here.” “Would you like the check?” “No. I intend to press charges actually. This is outrageous. You must be shut down. Don’t touch these plates. This is a crime scene. I’m going to put some yellow tape around it.”

More Babies Because the babies keep coming. You’ve got issues. The world’s a mess. Babies do not care. “We’re coming in.” Like racks of fresh donuts. “More babies. More babies. More babies.” The more we make, the more people want. Can’t keep them on the shelves. Why are they here? They are here to replace us. That’s their mission. Don’t you see what’s happening? They’re pushing us out. Their first words are, “Mama,” “Dada,” and “bye-bye.”

Babies think, “Oh, we’ll see who’s wearing the diapers when this is all over…”

Died Doing We also like to say things to make ourselves feel good like, “Well, at least he died doing something that he loved.” Yeah… well, okay. But he’s not doing that anymore. Also, not sure how “in love with it” he would still be, after the very negative outcome. I think he might be feeling, “Yeah, I loved doing it when I didn’t die. That’s when I loved it. Because, of all the things I like to do, I think my favorite is living…!” I’d like to die doing something that I hate. Like cleaning a row of outdoor Port-A-Pottys. Clutch my chest. Drop the brush. Keel over. And go… “Fantastic. At least I’m done with that…”