Is This Anything?

by Jerry Seinfeld

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.

One can only imagine the spirited exchange of ideas that took place inside that car the rest of the drive home. But that’s what marriage is.

It’s better to say, “You know, no normal human being leaves a bathroom floor that wet.”

We just came back from a nice family vacation. Or what I like to call, “Let’s pay a lot of money to go fight in a hotel. Let’s fight on bikes. Let’s use profanity on a pristine white sand beach. Let’s get abusive on a water slide. Let’s have a blowout screaming match at a complimentary continental breakfast. Let’s fight about how well behaved those other children seem to be. I wonder if they were out on the hotel balcony last night with $12 minibar cashews, trying to hit the other guests in the head?” When we take a trip, it’s six days and seven nights of scapegoating, mutiny, exploiting the weak and crushing the human spirit.

And when we get home we feel refreshed. Because we destroyed something. Together, as a family.

We like text because it’s fast, easy. Not fast enough apparently, for some people. People now instead of OK, they just text me the “K.” What micro fraction of a second did you save there? What do you think, you’re efficient? It’s one letter. You think you’re going to end up with two and a half free minutes at the end of your day? So you can watch a YouTube video of skateboarders banging their nuts off a railing? Somebody texted me “TY” the other day instead of “Thank You.” “I’d like to bang your nuts off a railing, TY.” That’s not a real Thank You.

Then sometimes you get the ghosty dots and no text. What happened there? Is that like someone coming up to you, (finger up) and then going… “Uh… Never mind.” (walks away)

One is a digital, fiber optic, hyperspeed network. The other is this dazed and confused distant branch of the Cub Scouts, bumbling around the streets in embarrassing shorts and jackets with meaningless patches and victory medals. Driving 4 miles an hour, 20 feet at a time on the wrong side of a mentally-challenged Jeep.

Nor do I think that every restaurant dinner will end with some picture bully going, ‘Okay, everyone. Picture. Need a picture. Got to get a picture.’ ” “Why? We didn’t have a good time. I don’t want to remember this.” And let’s make sure we get the least phone-fluent person in the area to take the picture.

The hospital is: Rest. Cleanliness. And if it doesn’t work out, they help you get to the next place. When you walk in the sign says “Hospital,” but it could also be: Bed, Bath and Beyond.

You never see a new cemetery. Big grand opening with flags and banners and that Windy Blow Up Guy.