A Loco Viewpoint
What’s The Big Idea?
Friday, September 28, 2012
I am sure in the depths of Cupcake’s purse, perhaps stowed in her cargo bra, or maybe it’s even an app for her phone, but somewhere, somehow, she has a device that alerts her the second I’ve sat down to relax. She can be in another town and will call the very moment my ample posterior meets recliner fabric. Finally, I decided to courageously push back on her incessant demands on my precious time. The next occasion she interrupts a well-deserved, self-empowered chillaxin’ break, I was going to give her what for and how. I did not have to wait long for the opportunity.
Cupcake had gone uptown for a few errands and had left me to sweep the floors. I swept like a curler on Red-Bull, finishing in record time, then leaped upon our reclining love seat. (Actually, at our stage of marriagehood, it’s more of a ‘declining love seat’.) With my trusty iPad at the ready, I was raring to deal some heavy damage with some very Angry Birds. The instant I sling shotted my first bird, Cupcake returned from her journey around Calmar’s shopping and business district; all three stores Within a nanosecond upon returning, Cupcake commenced reeling off commands.
“Honey Sweetie Lips,” I began timidly, “I think it’s kind of unfair for you to track me down when I’m chilling out, to get me to do stuff all the time. I’m not your gopher.”
“You’re not?” Cupcake arched her brow in surprise. “When we were dating, you said you would climb the highest mountain, cross the widest ocean and crawl on broken glass for me. I just want you to take the garbage out. I think I’m being quite reasonable.”
“It’s like this,” I struggled to move past the memory of my foolish words. “I don’t think I should be your beast of burden. I consider myself more of an ‘Idea Man’ but you treat me like your henchman. You just keep me around to do your evil bidding.”
“You’re an ‘Idea Man’ are you?” she failed to suppress a chortle which she covered up with a cough about as genuine and natural as Cheez Wiz. “And what sort of ideas have you come up with so far?”
“You can snicker all you like but I have some big ideas… ideas that may be worth millions… maybe billons!” I quickly tried to come up with such a stellar idea.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Cupcake prodded. “Give me an example of a big idea you had.”
“How about… uh…” I frantically wracked my brain which appeared rather disinterested in the topic. Finally I seized upon the first wisp of an idea that flitted across my consciousness. “How about we start a business selling American flags to Middle Eastern countries? They burn so many of them; they obviously need a constant supply. If sales drag a bit, we can post insulting videos on YouTube to rile them up. It’s pure genius!”
“That’s your million dollar idea?” snorted Cupcake. “It would probably get you killed. I’m sure there would be downsides, though. I’m kidding, dear. That is, however, one of the stupidest schemes you’ve ever come up with.”
“Wait! I have more!” While she was shooting my previous idea down, I recalled the idea I’d had while falling asleep the night before. “How about solar powered tanning beds?”
“What? You pay twenty bucks to lie on a cot outside?” she said doubtfully. “That makes as much sense as wind-powered fans. You’re making this whole ‘stupidest idea’ thing into quite a contest.”
I admitted I hadn’t really thought about it beyond the incredible flash of insight I’d received the previous night. Then, another idea hit me. It was a dilly.
“How about this… seeing eye Chihuahuas for blind pit-bulls,” I said triumphantly. “Of course, you’d have to keep the pit-bull well fed or you’d go through a few Chihuahuas.”
“Honey,” Cupcake eyed me suspiciously. “You haven’t been nipping at the cooking sherry, have you?”
“Okay, that one was a bit silly,” I put in hastily, not wanted to hurt my credibility as an Idea Man. “My ideas aren’t all winners but they’re plentiful. Here’s another one.“ I figured if I couldn’t convince her with quality, I’d have to go with quantity. “How about a Mentos and diet-pop powered canoe? Never mind. Forget that one. I was just thinking out loud.”
“Not at all,” Cupcake grinned wryly. “This glimpse into how your mind works is fascinating… just as long as at the end of it, you get the idea that taking the garbage out is a good one.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I challenged her. “If I can give you one good idea with at least some market potential, you have to take out the trash.”
“Only if I’m the judge of what’s marketable,” Cupcake conditionally agreed. “Let’s hear your million dollar idea. Why do I feel like Ralph Kramden’s wife, all of a sudden?”
“Here goes,” I said, trying to infuse excitement into my filthy lucre-attracting plan. “How about we invent attachments for water coolers that can use the unit’s own refrigeration system to keep other liquids cool? These liquids can be added when dispensing water into your Dixie cup. You could have different dispenser options; orange juice concentrate or Crystal Lite mix for employees, while executive models might include rye, scotch, and rum spigots. Hey, wait! Where are you going?”
“I’m taking the garbage out,” Cupcake grinned. “That last one’s not half bad.”
“Here’s another idea,” I ventured. “When you get back, how about we forget the chores and I’ll give you a foot rub on the love seat?”
“Now that, my dear,” she giggled’ “Is an idea I can truly embrace.”
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