Inside the Geezer Studio, Part II, with a Special Guest Appearance

James Lipton:  "Good evening. I'm James Lipton, and this, once again, is Inside the Geezer Cave. Tonight, Part II of our four part series. "

(Audience applause, while Lipton nods and applies lip balm.)

Lipton: "In tonight’s episode, we turn our attention to the Geezer known as Dr. Golf, perhaps the least vocal of the Geezers in print, but arguably the most influential Geezer of all. Indeed, since the dawn of mankind, only a few human beings have been as important to the species as Dr. Golf, who by many people is mentioned in the same breath as Tadd Lincoln, Jesus Christ, and Pierre Curie.

Tonight, we’ll have to other Geezers—Mercurious and the Professor— explain the subtle magic of the inimitable Dr. Golf.

"Welcome, America, to Geezer World!

(Lipton shuffles note cards, drops one, but catches it before it hits the stage floor.)

Lipton: "Geezers, I, along with all of America, would like to know how you first met the Dr, Golf and what your first impressions were?"

Mercurious: "I met Golf in junior high—what's now called middle school. I honestly

As a youth, the -2 handicap Dr. Golf carried was less
impressive than you might at first think. 

don't remember first meeting, it's as though we were kind of always aware of one another. But I know there was a kinship, because Golf was the first to procure beer for us in 8th grade, and I think four of us got stinking drunk on a six-pack at his house during a sleepover."

Mathematician: "I too met Golf in 7^th grade. He was an inner city kid while Merc and I came from Sunnyside.  Indeed Golf’s grade school was next door to the high school.  He knew the ropes.  He even knew kids in the 8^thgrade.  Impressive."

Lipton: "Was your friendship with the good Dr. instant, or did it evolve and ferment, like a good wine?"

Professor:  "I think I understand your colorfully metaphorical question…but they didn’t serve wine in Kindergarten."

Mercurious: "That's how long Golf and Professor have known one another—since kindergarten.  The oldest of the Geezer love affairs, to be sure. As for myself, it seemed that Golf always had the same kind of wicked sense of humor that resonated with me. After 40 some years, it's largely the same kind of friendship now as then."

Lipton: "What was Dr. Golf like growing up? Would we have recognized him?"

Professor: "It takes a special guy to be allowed to pitch in Little League without a father being the coach.  Golf qualifies on that.  It takes a special guy to get the ball across the plate at age ten…alas, no.

Mercurious:  "Picker, grinner, lover sinner. Joker, smoker, midnight toker.  Nope, that's pretty much it. The once and always gangster of love."

Mathematician: "First to procure beer.  First to master billiards. And of course, first to venture onto the fairways.  Golf was ever the Bon Vivant. But also gritty and street smart."

Lipton: "What is the thing you admire most about the Dr. Golf?"

Mercurious: "His sense of style. In clothes, food, entertainment. To a guy like me, who has no style whatsoever, Golf's style of living makes me quite envious. And he dances so well....as my wife constantly points out."

Mathematician: "Oh yeah.  Definitely the dancing.  He learned his moves watching Travolta in SNF and his Angel Flight pants seemed to shimmy even when he was standing still.  He tried to teach me the Hustle once, but alas, I had no rhythm at all."

Professor: "He is a guy with vision and the patience to allow the vision to happen...like Casey Stengel when he managed the Mets."

Lipton: "What do you most detest about him? "

Professor:  "There is no column on an excel spreadsheet for detestment—nor is there an appropriate numeric gauge/measure."

Mercurious: "Professor, you coward. Surely you can think of something, right after you look up the word detestment. Let's see, there's not a whole lot to dislike about good fellow Golf. Every so often, his fondness for traditional capitalism grates against my socialist leanings, but that's rare, and not very pronounced even then. And it's quite likely that my commie ways rub him the same way. "

Mathematician: " When he drives us in his Jaguar XJ to his private country club, I suppose it would be easy to move from jealousy to dislike.  But Golf is just so damn gregarious that jealousy evaporates pretty quickly. Although I do hate it when he uses mind control on the dice when we play Monopoly. That’s annoying.  Especially for someone like me who believe in statistics.  The laws of odds should apply to him too." 

Liption: "If Dr. Golf were a well-known artist, who would it be?"

Professor:  "Maybe the abstract painter Mark Rothko…no one knows exactly what he’s doing, but he seems to make good money at it."

Mathematician: "Definitely an artist at the center of the social scene.  Andy Warhol maybe."

Mercurious: "He strikes me a little like a Frank Lloyd Wright. He'd be a famous architect, I think. And a popular artist, making the social scene. No laboring in obscurity for Golf." 

Lipton: "What is the single thing you'd like to say to Dr. Golf that you've never uttered?" 

Professor:  "Match Point!"

Mercurious:  "Some day I'll burt out 'Lemme drive the Jag!"

A tale of two sets of wheels: Now....

Mathematician: "Do you think we should ask her to cover up?"

And then. 

Lipton: "If you were on a desert island, or incarcerated in the same cell with Dr. Golf, how long do you think it would take before genuine man-love became a reality?

Mathematician: "The night in the North Woods with the Cheez Whiz makes me doubtful anything meaningful could ever evolve."

Professor: " “Genuine man-love”  would require genuine men."

Mercurious: "I can't do any better than that quip—Professor, you're spot on today. For me, it would depend on if Golf's views on BDSM have changed. The early experiment wasn't very successful."

Lipton: "What is the thing you know about Dr. golf that he would most like you to keep secret?"

Mathematician: "That he stores too many bottles upright, risking the cork.  It happens when his collection outgrows his cellar."

Professor: "I know the number of miles he’s logged on his car— the TOP of his car."

Mercurious: "These days, he keeps his fondness for White Castle sliders a secret from his country club friends, I think. They imagine him to be a bastion of all-around good taste. Little do they know his capacity for slumming." 

Lipton: "It's well known that our subject is something of an expert on the finer consumables of life, to an extent that rivals the Mathematician. If Dr. Golf were a flavor of food or drink, what would he be?"

Professor:  "Rob Roy, of course…High quality Scotch with just a touch of something sweet and Mediterranean to keep it from becoming pretentious."

Mathematician: "Actually Professor, cocktails are not really emblematic of Golf.  He is more into the intensity of the straight up drink.  Previously Kettle One Vodka, then the Macallan 12 year, and now Casa Noble Anejo Tequila. Unadulterated good taste.  Just like Bond.  James Bond."

Mercurious: "You have to have some food with your drink. I see him as grilled lobster served with butter-sauteed mushrooms."

Lipton: "If Golf were an illness or disease, what would it be?"

Professor:  "Slightly elevated blood pressure: you should pay attention but not worry too much."

Mercurious: "What do they call that thing in the ED commercials, the four-hour erection thing.....?

Mathematician: "Pirapism?  Yeah probably that.  But not drug induced.  Natural.  Like that other emblematic super-spy hero of his, Rod Damone."

Lipton: "If Golf was a common weed, what kind of weed would he be?"

Professor: "Is hemp still a weed?"

Mathematician: "Yes hemp. But not a common variety.  Never common.  Maybe Candy Jack? Or Amnesia?"

Mercurious: "Bent grass. It migrated from golf courses and is taking over ordinary lawns."

Lipton: "If Golf were a bird, what would he be?"

Professor:  Oriole or Hummingbird—he’s been known to exist for months on just liquids.

Mercurious:  "Oh Professor, you're truly on today, but I must differ. I peg Golf as a tit-mouse for sure. 

Mathematician: " Wild Turkey. Not for the poorly done whiskey. But out of respect for Ben Franklin.  Golf likes to collect his portraits."

Lipton: "And If Dr. Golf were a soft drink, what would he be?" 

Professor:  "Dr. Pepper…you just can’t figure out exactly what’s in there."

Mercurious: "It's only semi-soft, but I'd say Long-Island Ice Tea." Or if the liquor ban is fully in effect, an Arnie Palmer.

Mathematician: "Golf’s outgrown both soft and semi-soft I think.  Soft drink for him is a Nuevo Beaujolais ."

Lipton: "What is Dr. Golf’s favorite curse word?"

Mathematician: "Goddamn JD!! Whatever that means."

Mercurious:  "It's usually just the f-bomb, sometimes drawn out with a heavy accent at the end of the word."

Professor:  “April 15^th”

Lipton: "Assuming there is a God, when meeting him at the pearly gates, what would God say to Dr. Golf as he arrives?

Professor: In a deep, well-modulated voice, the Maker would say, "Let me show you how to deal with that slice.”

Mercurious:  "He'd say, 'Golf, the free-market economy really doesn't work the way you think, as it depends on the virtue and honesty of men, which certainly cannot be assumed...."

Mathematician: "Hey Lipton, you smarmy little prick, are you kidding with that question? Pearly gates indeed."

Lipton: That's all for tonight's episode of Inside the Geezer's Studio. Any comments or questions from our studio audience?

Scarlett Johanson (from the first row): "Before you leave, James, I feel that I must add: From personal experience I can verify that Dr. Golf is twice the man that Mercurious is, thrice the man that the Mathematician is, and at least 10 times the man that the Professor is. Mind you, I'm speaking skill level, not measurables. That would be a different discussion altogether. 

Dr. Golf: "Why, thanks Scarlett. You really didn't need to state the obvious, but it was so kind of you to do so."

Inside the Geezer Studio , part 1

James Lipton:  "Good evening. I'm James Lipton, and this is Inside the Geezer Studio."

(Audience applause, while Lipton nods and smacks his lips with self satisfaction)

Lipton: "In the space of only a year now, Old Geezers Out to Lunch has entirely revolutionized the digital blog world. More than 2 billion people across the globe visit Geezers daily, hoping for new wisdom, and there is, literally, no city, town, village or hovel on earth where an on-line visitor does not log on at least once each minute. The American Medical Association has established a new category of addictive disease classification for on-line readers who are obsessed with Geezers, and Pew research organization now has a dedicated staff that does nothing but read Geezers for insight as to what is really true in the world.

"But just who are these mysterious Geezers, the middle aged fellows who have become the internet's—no, mankind's— most influential human beings? Who, indeed...

"Tonight, you will begin learning exactly that....in the words of those who know the Geezers best. This series will use a different interview technique, in which we'll speak not to the Geezer being examined, but the three other Geezers. We will, therefore, present you with a series of four programs, each one examining a single Geezer through the eyes of the other three.

"Welcome, America, to Geezer Reality!"

(Lipton shuffles note cards as audience applause and adulation fades.)

"We welcome to our stage tonight Mercurious, Dr. Golf, and the Professor. Tonight's subject, obviously, is that Geezer known as.....the Mathematician!"

Lipton: "Geezers, I, along with all of America, would like to know how you first met the Mathematician, and what your first impressions were?"

Um, no. That's not the Mathematician. 

Professor: "The Mathematician is quite a singer…he was the guy who LOOKED like he could hit a low D-flat….I was the guy who actually COULD hit a low D-flat."

Mercurious: "It was a little earlier for me, in fifth or sixth grade when I met Math, which would have made us 11 or 12 years old,  I guess. Math had transferred from another town to our class. He was a bit on the nerdy side, but his impressive intellect was evident even then."

Lipton: "Was your friendship—some might say bromance—instant, or did it evolve?"

Professor:  "'Evolving' isn’t precise enough as a term…he’s like the ocean: always changing and always the same…"

And no, that's not Math, either, although he did
look kind of smart in a similar way. 

Mercurious: "It took a little while to become fast friends back in elementary school, for we weren't used to having another challenging intellect in our midst. So there was a bit of envy at what was clearly a rival in the brain department. At our elementary school, he quickly became evident as one of the top two or three intellects. Though that's mostly a testament to how frickin' stupid our school was. "

Lipton: "What was the Mathematician like growing up?"

Mercurious: "Big, and brittle. It seemed like Math was breaking another bone—a finger, or wrist or collarbone—every other week on the playground."

Professor:   "Has he grown up?  When did that happen?"

Lipton: "What is the thing you admire most about the Mathematician?"

Mercurious: "Probably his culinary skill. That and his clear devotion to family and friends, which is notable and Herculean. Also, I admire his beard. He grew it first at age 7, and although it went fully white by age 10, it remains a model of dignified whisker display. "

Professor:  "Hey, I’m a theatre guy…anyone who can add two plus two (and come up with the correct answer, I might add) is impressive."

Lipton: "What do you most detest about him?"

Mercurious: "Good God, where do we start?"

Professor: "In the popular board game of Risk, which the Geezers play obsessively, the Mathematician has a fondness for the Southeastern strategy which—while being understandable, is irritating.  Detest might be too strong, though."

Lipton: "If the four of you were to be a rock band, who would it be?"

Mercurious: "Probably the Traveling Wilburys. Old coots with a fair amount of talent who get along pretty well and seem to have set ego aside. Except for the fact that we're all alive, and half of the Wilburys are dead."

If the Geezers were the Beatles....

Professor: "Well, there’s only one real contender when you talk about 4-person rock bands.  The mathematician has the soul of a bass player, but he is cute neither while shaking his head back and forth (ala McCartney) or standing still (which he does well when inspired."

Lipton: "What is the single thing you'd like to say to the Mathematician that you've never uttered?"

Professor: “I'd point out that he's not the only one who can do calculations…I know darned well that 2 plus two equals five…it’s just not that hard to do that kind of thing."

Mercurious: "I'd confess that long, long ago, I once dreamed about having hot monkey sex with one of his sisters. And it's not the one most people would expect."

Lipton: "If you were on a desert island, or incarcerated in the same cell with the Mathematician, how long do you think it would take before genuine man-love became a reality?"

No problem. Dr. Golf always had the
hots for Mrs. Howell, anyway. 

Professor: "On a desert island there would be Mary Anne, so he wouldn’t have a chance…Being a pal (I emphasize PAL!) I’d let him approach Ginger and see how she would respond.  Hard to say with prison, but he looks terrible in orange, and horizontal stripes don’t help either.

Mercurious: "Professor, are you seriously pretending to have forgotten? That question has already been answered for all of us. Back in 1976."

Lipton: "What is the thing you know about the Mathematician that he would most like you to keep secret?"

Mercurious: "Sorry, Lipton, but not even I will stoop that low. The Mathematician knows what it is, though, and how much he needs to pay me for continued silence."

Professor: "I’m thinking about that secret right now, and it’s a doozey, that’s for sure.

Lipton: "If the Mathematician were a flavor of food or drink, what would he be?"

Mercurious: "Mushrooms stuffed with some kind of delicious shrimp."

Professor:  "A Smith and Kerns cocktail: sweetness of crème de cacao, the slight density and smoothness of cream, and the liveliness of sparkling water."

Lipton: "If the Mathematician were a psychiatric diagnosis, what would it be?"

Mercurious: "That's easy: OCD. With a side order of gender confusion, because of growing up with all that estrogen floating around his house. "

Professor: "As I like to say about my dear spouse: “They talk about passive-aggressive, she’s aggressive-aggressive.  The mathematician isn’t any kind of aggressive at all. 

Lipton: "If the Mathematician were a tree, what kind of tree would he be?"

Mercurious: "A big Christmas tree completely laden with lots of family-related ornaments."

Professor: "Maple tree…you’re tempted to think he can be sappy at times, but at the end of the day, he’s just plain sweet."

Lipton: "If the Mathematician were a wild creature, what would he be?"

Professor:  "IF he were a wild creature? IF??"

Mercurious: "He's a shelled creature from the Galapagos islands. Wise, impervious to pain and insults, and oh, so methodical."

Lipton: "If the Mathematician were a liquor, what would he be?"

Mercurious: "He'd like me to say Stagg bourbon or something lofty like that. But I say Creme de Menthe."

Professor: "Have to give him his preference of Bourbon…He used to be corny, but time has mellowed him into a real treat." 

Lipton: "What is the Mathematician's favorite curse word?"

Professor: "As followers of the site might guess: “Religion.”

Mercurious: "He was the first I heard coin this, and I'm sure he'd not like to admit it:  "Jesus, F-#$$@#  Christ."

"Well, Mathematician, you DO have
some 'splainin' to do, my man!"

Lipton: "Assuming there is a God, when meeting him at the pearly gates, what would God say to the Mathematician as he arrives?"

Professor: "'I’ve been looking forward to meeting you a lot more than you’ve been looking forward to meeting me.'"

Mercurious:  "No, I think it will be the Old Testament guy who greets Math. 'Begone, infidel!'"

Lipton: "Dr. Golf, your silence is both intriguing and annoying, I must say, though your facial expressions indicate plenty of inner commentary occurring while the Professor and Mercurious participated so fully. Anything you'd like to add, though, at the conclusion?"

Dr. Golf:  "_______ "

Lipton: "All right then, perhaps at the next installment of Inside the Geezer Studio, we'll examine you through the eyes of your fellow Geezers. Until then....

"This has been Inside the Geezer Studio, with me, James Lipton."

A Civilized Conversation Begins to Degrade....

Interviewer:  "The wisdom of the Geezers is now something of a legend, and I'm wondering if the group of you can comment on a subject of interest to young men aiming toward Geezerhood some day. That subject is that of fathering children in the modern world. Your commentary frequently borders on the curmudgeonly in tone, so I suspect you have some things to say on the subject."

Mercurious:  "Bold, sometimes rabid opinions, really are the territory of the Professor, but you're right, this is one subject the Geezers can certainly comment on. 

"Personally, the first piece of advice I'd give young men setting out on the path of fatherhood—and the principle most often ignored these days—is this:  Be the adult. Your kids do not need you to be their friend. They need you to be the responsible adult to set their boundaries for them. Far too many namby-pamby men think that being a father means being a buddy. There will be time for that when they grow up, perhaps, but when they're kids, be a genuine adult father to your kids. Handing off to you, Professor."

The Professor:  "Insist that your children talk to you.  They don't have to like you, they don't even need to respect you (of course, that would be nice) but they need to know that talking to you is a "condition of employment" as far as being a kid.  This should be no problem; kids enjoy talking to their parents—when they are young.  The difficulty some parents have is caused by allowing an early pattern of distracted communication to develop, in which the parents are too busy to focus upon and talk with their children. This dysfunctional pattern often kicks in at the magical age of three, when (most) kids explode with language and are almost totally uninhibited about their spoken thoughts. Most three year olds have limited things to talk about, and most parents of three year olds are very busy, tired or, usually both.  It is easy to let a pattern develop of being together without truly talking.  (This is becoming VERY concerning in today's world, where kids—and parents—are equipped with distracting electronic devices all the time.)  

 "Not talking is a delayed-symptom type of thing: it is not much of a concern when kids are young and their lives are relatively simple, and for the most part played out in the view of parents and teachers. The challenge comes when the child reaches, say, middle school, where an age-appropriate impulse for independence starts to kick in, and social pressures become much more difficult to spot and control.  Woe to the parent who has teenagers who are not in the habit of talking with their parents (and I believe nearly the only thing that brings children through some of those tricky "middle years" are habits formed in earlier years when they were more malleable.)

"If the default social mode of the family is developed so that it is more strained, awkward and difficult for kids to sit with their parents in silence, then teenagers will talk; but if the habit is that silence is typical and comfortable, there is no way that a teenager suddenly becomes chatty during those typical teenage emotional states:  confusion, in-over-their-head anger or fearfulness, or debilitating, distracting horniness.

"Meals, of course, can be a big help in all of this.  Formerly, car rides were a big opportunity.  I myself tried to build in a bedtime ritual of having a ten-minute chat over a glass of juice or milk with the little ones before they went off to bed.  They had little to say, really, so usually we just went through their day, hour by hour, and I asked them what they did.  Value in terms of content? Usually close to zero.  Value in terms of establishing a lifelong pattern: (as they say in the adverts) Priceless." 

Mercurious: "I have to say, Professor, that the proof is clearly in the pudding. I've seen your interaction with your grown kids, and you've clearly done something pretty right. Yours is an admirable family dynamic, to be sure. What say you, Mr. Math?"

Mathematician:  "So the core of the advice from my esteemed colleagues seems to be "discipline" and "communication". I can't say we had either of those in abundance in my childhood. Not that my sisters and I were particularly mute or surly. But our evening meals were not the gabfests the Professor remembers. And as for discipline, well, my Dad didn't try hard to be my best friend but I honestly never remember him even raising his voice to me, or my sisters. And I may have been too much of a milk toast to warrant the occasional correction, but I guarantee my three sisters richly deserved the dressing downs they never received. 

"What we did have in my family that made things work was a strong sense of place, or traditions. One felt the need to do things a certain way because that's what we did. Work hard. Study hard. Don't complain. Respect your elders. Hold family dear. Perhaps because my maternal Grandmother lived with us and cared for us when we were very young, my siblings and I all shared that common worldview. When I go out to shoveel another frickin' Minnesota snow off my drively in the barely dawn, I can still her my Grandmother's voice: "A job worth doing is worth doing well. Sometimes I wish her advice had been more like, 'Have another. You can do that other shit tomorrow.'

"My wife and I have tried to imbue our kids with a sense of tradition. We have endlessly talked to them about the rich histories of my family and hers. The kind of stories and traditions that almost every family has. Either that worked or my kids are very good at hiding their transgressions. Not that they are exactly what I'd like them to be. But they have a good sense of who they are, backed by a good understanding of from whence they came. That's about all they really need, which is good because the next generation will likely grow up with considerably less than we had. But that's another topic.  For later. 

Mercurious: "Well said, Math.  The success of your strategies is also clear to anyone who simply looks at your family. In our family, we probably spent more effort on creating new traditions rather than following historical traditions, as some of those felt stifling and onerous. But I'm well aware that our kids have appreciated the life-rhythm reassurance offered by the repeated activities that became our own family traditions.

The Professor:  “Nicely observed, Mathematician, especially the observation about tradition. I REALLY struggle trying to understand those people who don't get how tradition works and who, thus, undervalue (or are sometimes actively antagonistic toward) tradition.

Interviewer: “Geezers, any further thoughts?  I know you to be immensely opinionated, so surely you have other advice...."

Mercurious:  One other thing. Let your kids be kids. Give them the free time and space to explore

the world and themselves and figure out who they are and what they want to be. When we Geezers were young, summers were largely a time to wander about rather aimlessly, playing sandlot baseball with buddies, hanging out at the municipal swimming pool, roaming hillsides or just generally getting into mischief. We most certain DID NOT have every moment of every day scheduled for us by our parents. And I think we turned out much the better for our parents having the good sense to let us be kids."

Interviewer:  "Thank you Geezers....

Mercurious:  "Wait a minute....

Dr. Golf:  “You said one other thing. Now you’re starting yet another thing.”

Mercurious:  “…On the subject of tradition... Tradition seems like a double-edged sword to me, capable of both good and ill. You can argue that tradition was also what prevented first women, then black people, from voting. Also what prevented gay people from having rights. And certainly there are some religious traditions that have been corrosive. Math, you of all people must roll your eyes at some of those traditions. If you adhere to tradition, then must you of necessity believe that change is bad? Tradition, after all, is partly about arch defense of the status quo. Where does "tradition" end, and lazy inertia begin? A complex subject, I think. Tradition is both a human necessity, and sometimes a human foible.

Interviewer...."Perhaps another time, we can explore that....

Professor: "Hold on, hold on. Mercurious doesn't get the last word this time.

"Of course tradition—like all powerful tools—has its down side along with its positive value. My basic concern is when people reject a tool such as this one on the basis of its misuse. 

"The Geezer in me is tempted to reject the Internet as a tool because of its misuse in the form of ugly anonymity detached pseudo-communication.  Our esteemed Mathematician has developed an aversion to most things religious—to what extent this is related to observing its dubious use in gloomy Lutheran settings growing up in Minnesota is a judgment I am not in a position to make.  

"To me the salient concern is: when you know a tool exists that can do what no other tool can, don't you think you should at least learn as much as you can about such a tool? 

"As a professor at reasonably selective college, I work with a lot of people possessing a fair amount

of "grey matter" intelligence.  It is doubly frustrating to encounter very intelligent people who opt out of a struggle to understand how something like tradition works based on the many negative things to which it contributes.  Ditto religion, ditto technology (for that matter, ditto following sports and being a sports fan.)  Learn about these tools, try applying them in a sophisticated manner, and determine their sensible place in (or out) of your lives.  It's the knee-jerk reaction by intelligent people that gives me pause."

Interviewer:  "Thank you for that final thought...."

Mercurious: "Listen carefully, Professor. I'm not rejecting the concept of tradition, only asking you to be more precise. You're the one that said tradition is always good, without qualification.  So who's being knee jerk?

Mathematician:  "There goes Mercurious, getting the last word again. Sheesh. Edit this, dip stick!" 

Dr.  Golf  (to Interviewer): "Welcome to my life. These pseudo-intellectual mutts never shut up."

Interviewer:  "Thank you, Geezers, one and all. And special thanks to Dr. Golf."