He Chose... Poorly

Dear Friends,

Inspired by my son obtaining his learner's permit, this month's Hard Taco song is called "Pedestrian Came Out Of Nowhere."

I always imagined teaching my kid to drive would be like in the commercials... He'd buckle his seat belt, place both hands on the wheel, and give me a nervous glance. I'd say, "Just like practiced. Shift it into drive and gently release the brake." Then, he'd adjust the mirrors, and we'd share a tender moment slathering our faces in Nakery Beauty Hydra-C Oil to Foam Cleanser. Because for some reason, in this particular fantasy, the commercial we're in is for a skin care product. 

Reality, however, is far less flattering to my complexion. If he flips on his turn signal half a second later then I would have, I sweat. If he edges too close to one side of the garage, I scream. If he comes to a rolling stop at a yield sign, my skin withers, my hair grays and lengthens, and I rapidly decompose like that guy in the Indiana Jones movie who drinks from the false grail.

Perhaps the problem is that we jumped right to putting him in the driver's seat of the family car. He doesn't turn 16 until next May, so I think it might be prudent to slow down and take a more graduated approach. We'll start him out with something simple, like pushing a toy shopping cart. As he hones his skills, we'll grant him progressive responsibility with more complex vehicles...  a full-sized shopping cart, a lawnmower, a go-kart, a tractor, a stagecoach, and a hovering landspeeder (stalling, of course until this invented).

Only after successfully demonstrating proficiency in the 150 fundamental competencies of each of these vehicles, he'll earn his place in the driver's seat of the Ford Fusion. As he turns the key, I'll notice the old toy shopping cart in the back seat and laugh, realizing what a long way we've come from that initial, fictional commercial. And while drinking from the wrong grail and watching your kids drive can both age you 1000 years in a few seconds, I'll rest easy, thanks to Nakery Lift Multi-Peptide Serum, the clinically proven path to radiant skin. 

With warmest regards,

Zach

Nine Movies in Ten Sentences

Dear Friends,

The Hard Taco song for January, “Pando,” is about my love for the largest and oldest living thing on the planet, Pando. Pando looks like a forest of aspens, but he Is actually a single organism with a network of underground roots throughout 106 acres in Utah.

Countdown Stories

Lauren and I have a homegrown road trip game we do with the kids. We try to tell the synopsis of a popular story in exactly 10 lines, with each line one word shorter than the last. The first line is 10 words, the second 9 words, etc., and we have to finish the story by time we get down to the final 1-word sentence.

Here are some Countdown Story retellings of some of my favorite classic movies.

Historically speaking, merpeople and humans don’t hang out very much.

“History my ass,” Ariel says, rescuing hunky unconscious guy.

She swaps her voice for... what’s that? Legs.

Calypso music, we discover, is quite romantic.

The prince learns a valuable lesson:

Never trust hotties named Vanessa.

The ship shanks Ursula

Making witch kebab.

Teenage wedding?

Sure!

Luke grudgingly befriends a hermit. They overpay a glorified cabbie.

The hermit disintegrates, but the princess with Cinnabon earmuffs

Fits Luke with a size small orange uniform.

Some X-shaped spaceships attack a moon-shaped base.

A disembodied voice tells Luke,  “Relax.

Turn off that targeting computer.

Envision murdering womp rats.”

Thanks, dead hermit.

Thanks, cabbie.

Kaboom.

A mopey beauty, whose soulmate allegedly perished, goes horseback riding.

Three guys with different accents and BMIs kidnap her.

She shoves her masked rescuer into a chasm.

A fanged capybara gnaws on his shoulder.

Suction cups leave him mostly dead.

Who will stop this wedding?

The unintelligible rhyming giant?

Either mustachioed protagonist?

Fred Savage?

Anyone?

Bilbo goes sightseeing with Gandalf’s little buddies whose names rhyme.

Though small, Bilbo outsmarts trolls, goblins, spiders, and elves

Plus, a shriveled riddler with dissociative identity disorder.

The dwarves covet jewelry above meaningful relationships.

So, as it happens, do dragons

And pretty much everyone else.

Hobbits have hairy feet,

But they’re sweethearts.

Where to?

Home.

Professor Jones is on sabbatical, doing fieldwork in South America.

Is getting tenure really worth tarantulas, boulders, and blowguns?

And when will he finish his big grant?

Never, with the Nazis constantly scooping him.

The academic world is ridiculously cutthroat

It’s literally publish or perish

And during the Depression

Funding is tight.

Aw, crap.

Snakes.

Forrest has short hair, loves God, and joins the army.

He does not embrace the excesses of the 1960s.

Jenny, however, represents everything wrong about liberal counterculture

She’s promiscuous. She’s anti-war. She uses drugs.

The lesson is hippies get AIDS.

Obviously, it’s all conservative propaganda.

Gump even wears a

Red trucker hat.

Forrest Trump.

#sad.

Doc’s time machine requires stolen plutonium to generate 1.21 gigawatts

Libyans in a Volkswagen Microbus want their plutonium back.

Marty escapes to 1955 and coaches his parents,

Preventing them from becoming alcoholic loser dorks.

He teaches Chuck Berry rock music,

Then harnesses lightning to return,

Producing flaming tire tracks.

Now where’s Doc?

Uh oh...

Libyans!

A paleontologist, paleobotanist, and chaos theorist ride a customized Jeep

It’s storming when Messy Fat Guy unleashes some dinosaurs

Who devour Samuel Jackson, except for one arm.

Aren’t they hungry enough for both arms?

Dinosaurs spit on Messy Fat Guy

Before ravaging him off camera

That’s what he deserves

Because he’s evil.

Pure evil.

Newman!

Balding psychiatrist and his wife have been growing apart recently

Because (spoiler alert) he kicked the bucket last year.

Everyone who ever died in Philadelphia harasses Cole.

He’s lucky he doesn’t live in Beijing.

Fortunately, he (spoiler alert) learns something.

I saw Haley Joel Osment

On Buzzfeed last week.

He’s no longer

(Spoiler alert)

Cute.

Mikey’s searching for One-Eyed Willy, which is not a euphemism.

Mouth speaks Spanish, Chunk Hebrew, and Data broken English.

They disarm booby traps thanks to piano lessons.

Once, Chunk feigned puking off a balcony.

Mikey uses his inhaler too often.

Mama Fratelli makes Corey Feldman

Spit out the pearls.

Sloth love Chunk

Chunk reciprocates.

Hugs.

With warmest regards,

Zach

Please Join Our Bridal Party

Dear Friends,

   The Hard Taco song for March is called, "Down at the Berl." The crawfish boil, or "berl," is the classic Louisiana seafood gala. Cajuns cannot pronounce the sound oi, which is why so few of them are Jewish grandmothers. (Er! My daughter could have married that lerer, but her new berfriend is an unemplered ger! Maybe I should person his sermilk?)

The Turquoise Badge of Top Sellerness

Moonspotcollectibles101
(29303 rankings) 
100% positive feedback

Unless you have applied 20 cumulative miles of packing tape to cardboard, you are one of the millions of eBay users who can only sigh wistfully at the unattainable turquoise shooting star.

I've made an eBay bid or two in my time, and I'm happy to say I still have 100% positive feedback. I can't really claim to be proud of this, though, because everyone has 100% positive feedback. There is a bylaw on eBay's Terms and Conditions page that states that real feedback is only permitted when it is quietly sandwiched between screamed compliments.

"Great job great AWESMOE PRODUCT great communication!!!! gene hackman autograph never arrived A+++++++ THANKS!!!"

Seriously, dear friends. The A with seven plus signs after it used to mean something. The only institution with worse grade inflation than eBay is karate class. (See prior rant.)

That's why I renounced online auctioning about 10 years ago. My last serious eBay purchase took place just before my wedding. It is traditional for a groom to give his groomsmen a modest token of gratitude at the rehearsal dinner... either a monogrammed flask or any product made by Victorinox. Rather than saddle my besties with yet another swarm of Swiss Army Ants, I decided to go with autographed pictures of their favorite celebs. 

  

My third groomsman is/was a Harrison Ford fan. He likes to dress like Indiana Jones, insomuch as he always wears his belts diagonally instead of horizontally.

Third best groomsman.
(It's not only okay to rank them, it's necessary.)

I went on eBay and got him this signed 8"x10" glossy, but soon after it arrived, I started having second thoughts about giving it to him. Indy isn't even looking at the camera. Without seeing his face, how could I be sure it was really Harrison Ford?

The enclosed certificate vouches for the authenticity of the autograph,
but it does not say anything about the authenticity of the photograph.

I couldn't fathom why Harrison Ford would sign a fake picture of himself, but it didn't seem right to give a tainted piece of memorabilia to my fourth best groomsman. (Sorry for the demotion, Jeff, but those diagonal belts look really stupid. Tell Brian he's #3 now.) In the end, I found him a nice autographed picture of a Star Wars extra from a "top seller" with 110% positive feedback. The Raiders of the Lost Ark photo stagnated on my desk, and over many months it was sucked into the undertow of deep storage documents.

Then, a couple weeks ago, I was cleaning out a file cabinet and found it. Here's the dilemma... I don't want to keep the photo, but it's too valuable to throw away, and I'm certainly not going to sell it on eBay. I realize just now that the only way for this picture to fulfill its destiny is for us to recruit one more groomsman (or groomsmaid), and give it to him/her!

I would like you to apply to be that groomsman/groomsmaid. To be eligible, all you have to do is write a toast for our wedding. The only details you need are that the bride's name is Lauren and it is March 2001. (Also, everyone is excited because one of the actors from "The Usual Suspects" is hanging out in the hotel lobby, but you don't have to use that.) Feel free to make your toast sappy, funny, or embarrassing... it's your call, Groomsperson!

Send the text of your toast to znlondon@hotmail.com by the end of March, and you may be chosen as the winner. The prize package includes the Harrison Ford autograph, a doctored picture of you with the rest of the bridal party, and a personalized thank you note on original wedding stationery!

You've always been there for me and I just want to say I love you, man/woman,
Zach