Christmas Dinner
When
I was single, foot loose and fancy free in the good old days of 1979, I owned a
dream house condo located in the South Ogden, Utah, Ironwood Condominiums. It
had everything under the sun in it that you could imagine; a wet bar, home
theater, seamless thick carpet and dyed-at-the- factory, carpeting in the
garage, solid oak doors throughout, a safe behind a picture, etc. All of it was
designed, produced and build by Eddie O’Brian owner of Crown Water Beds in
Riverdale. I bought the layout from Eddie a year after he finished it off and
then got married.
I wanted to
make it real special on Valentine’s Day, so I made plans for a quiet fun-filled
Valentine's Day in a private atmosphere with an 800-gallon circular tub
with a bar in middle, to a comfy 101 degrees, chocolates, streamers, stereo
music, and flowers. Everything was ready.
A full
three weeks before that, I had a bright idea. I would buy a blow-up doll--a
gift for my girlfriend Janice Walker. I went down to the Mr. B’s adult book
store on 702 Wall Avenue around midnight. Mr. B’s got its name from the owners Mr.
Larry Bram well and Mrs. Mary Ann Barnwell. Being afraid someone might
recognize my car, I parked it a half block down the street. Weber County is so
small that everyone knows what everyone else is doing. Coming out of the dark
shadows, I opened the door and walked in. I wore a heavy coat with the collar
up and a hat covering half my face. As I stepped in, a bell rang and I turned
my back to Larry who was standing behind the checkout counter. I began looking
at the magazines. He asked me if he could be of help. I was the only
customer in the store. I answered with what I thought would be a normal
question.
“Do you have any Playboy Calanders?
He said,
"No, not this time of year." I then asked him for what I had come in
for in the first place,
“Do you
have any blow up dolls?”
He pointed
me in the general direction of the back room which was full of all kinds of
stuff. It is quite an education if you haven’t been in an adult book
store. After browsing around for a full hour, I finally stumbled onto an
inflatable man. It was about normal size so that it could substitute as a
passenger in my car when driving in the car-pool lane. It looked human, if you
use a huge heap of your imagination. I paid 69.95 which included a G string.
Valentines morning, I used the air
compressor to fill the doll with air and at the same time I named him Jack
Armstrong, the All American Boy. Jack came to life with a pliant body, muscular
legs, and big chest muscles and no clothes. I stood him against the fireplace
and I sat back to relax. "This will make Jan giggle," I told myself.
But, lo' and behold, my Mother and Dad
showed up. Jack was standing in plain sight of the entry way. Dad noticed Jack
the moment he stepped in the door.
“What the
Hell is that?” he demanded. I quickly tried to explain,
“It’s
a doll.” However, my humor didn’t coincide with my dad’s.
“Who would play with something like that?” I had several candidates in mind,
but kept my mouth shut.
“Where are
his clothes?”
“Boy, that
turkey sure smells nice, Dad,” I said, trying to steer him into the kitchen
dining room. But Dad was relentless.
“Why doesn’t
he have any teeth?” Again, I could have answered, but it was Valentine’s Day
and I didn't want to shock him by saying what I was thinking, then maybe have
to be kneeling over him saying, “Hang on, Dad, Hang on; the ambulance is on its
way!”
My mother, with age having has laid
its hand, waned feebly with poor eyesight, sided up to me and asked,
"Who’s the naked man by the fireplace?” I said,
“It’s
Jan’s friend.”
A few
minutes later, I noticed Mom by the mantel talking to Jack. Not just talking,
but actually flirting. It was then that I realized this might be Mom’s last Christmas
at my place.
Just
then, Jan stepped in the door, saving the day. Lunch went well. We made the
usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed.
Then suddenly Jack made a bang that sounded like a canon. He lurched from his
G string, flew, smoking surrilling around the living room three times right,
and fell in a heap on the front-room Imported Gaeta couch, dead.
Jan screamed. I passed chocolate
sauce through my nose, Mom ran across the room, fell to her knees with a heavy
heart and crying eyes, and began administering mouth to mouth. Dad threw
down his napkin, stomped out of the house, got in his car and started
intermittently honking the horn for mom.
It was
indeed a day to remember. Later, in the garage, Jan and I conducted an
examination to find the cause of Jack’s collapse. We discovered that
he had suffered from a hot ember to his left buttocks. We restored him to health
using duct tape.
Jack went on to star in several
Tupperware parties, and Mom often calls me about Jack.
*Later after the occurrence related
above... a social media website, was asking people to vote on their virtual web
site as to whether they thought Mom and Jack should get back together. If you
can believe it, they also were selling bumper stickers: JACK AND MOM ARE MADLEY
IN LOVE
DR.KARL
WALLACE D.D.S.
To
read more of Karl’s stories go to: www.karlwallaceblog.blogspot.com
