Never is an awful long time. The axiom was underscored just this week as I found myself in a place clearly NOT on my To Do list. Me…Bruce Bogart…in a store called City Buddha. Me, walking through aisles of incense, candles and pierced bodies. Me. Perhaps, I suppose, I should never say never.
Sharing war stories backstage, Larry had the NERVE to doubt me.
“You mean to say you’re never leaving the country again?”
“Never… ” came the response, “Unless I fall in love, or something like that. Otherwise, why would I?”
Looking at me like I was nuts, he said the wrong thing: “You’re lying.”
A beat or two passed before I spoke:
“Can I tell you something without you being offended?”
I waited before finishing: “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Maybe he just thinks you’re unrealistic?” entered Marcy, the “peace-maker” in every group.
Shooting her a Helen-worthy glare, I began the gentle history lesson.
Indeed, in lo these many years never once did this cowboy leave the U.S. but for duress: twice to Aruba with Jodi, and once, a St. Maarten trip (under the influence of marriage). Of my own volition, Nyet!
“Well, I guess I was wrong….” he mumbled, affording me the confidence to elaborate. It would be New York, Chicago, Florida or Vegas ONLY. That was my assertion, (absent compelling romance).
His look had now turned from doubt to amazement. He believed, (if nothing else), that I believed. Sensing victory, I went into my patented “I’ve lived my entire life in two square miles” routine. He responded with yet more amazement…including the one opening I just couldn’t resist:
“Most people like to travel,” he claimed.
• There is nothing I like better than responding to a comment
prefaced by “Most people.” It is a window I can’t resist. Ever.
“You know,” I told him, “I never had an olive.”
His doubt which had become amazement was now intrigue.
“Even my brother, who is normal—he hasn’t either. Bogarts don’t.”
There he stood, my new buddy, waiting for what he thought would be a punch- line. Instead, he got more history. Life was full, I advised, of things that “most people” do that Bogarts tend to pass on:
Never tried peanut butter (Hal eats the smooth stuff). Never rode a power mower.
Never bought a shovel, or a rake, or a hoe. Or learned what mulch was.
And…never did a tractor pull…or was on a crane..or smoked dope.
Never touched a reptile.
The reptile line made him laugh (maybe it was the Jewish stereotype thing); I should have stopped there, of course, but I was in the zone…and there was more (at least for me):
Never went to a drive-in with a date. Never saw a James Bond movie.
Bored a bit, Larry questioned my Bond assertion. He relented only through my self-effacement, admitting I was nerd, never having dated in high school. This, then, led me to: Never have worn a long-sleeve gray Tshirt with blue jeans, never been to the opera, never danced with a midget….
About then rehearsal resumed and we were called back on stage. An hour later we were done for the night.
Larry doesn’t doubt me any more. At all.
He avoids me.
Okay so now olives mean you and Hal both need a trip to the Greek islands, or at least a Greek restaurant. But the reason I write is that I am totally OFFENDED. What, no Portland????
Do you know that your brother enjoys operetta? So, never say never.
I should be lucky he comes to Columbus!
Your loss! You missed:
Pussy Galore, Holly Goodhead, Plenty O’Toole, and Octopussy!
And, Sean Connery’s last movie was Never Say Never Again.