The Little Debbie In My Beard

Chris visited me in Colorado this week while my wife and children visited Missouri.  This is the best arrangement for everyone, really, since Chris and I are absolutely insufferable together.  We like to stay up late, yell at killer dunks on the television, and say things all backwards-like. 

Chris also likes to fart.  Actually, I wasn't sure about his enjoyment of the farting until I saw his farting post today; I naively thought maybe he just lacked tact and/or rectal discipline.  But now I know for certain: Chris likes to fart. 

Have you ever seen a movie where one person in an audience starts a slow clap for a brave performer, then some more people clap, then more, then faster, until finally the whole room has broken out in applause?  Well, imagine that same scene played out in my living room, except replace the "audience" with "Chris's rectum" and the "brave performer" with "horrified Jason." 

The scene went something like this:

Slow clapping sound.  Sounds like maybe two claps, then stops.

JASON (inner monologue): What was that odd clapping sound?  Hmm, must have been Chris.  He's standing over there.  I think I will walk to the living room, which is about 15 feet from Chris and that mysterious slow clap I just heard.

Jason walks to the living room and stops. 

JASON (inner monologue):  Oh...my...WHAT IS...

Jason drops dead, having been gassed.  The “audience” breaks out in full-on “applause.”

But farting is not all we did.  Far from it.  We also battled the weather.  The Denver area gets over 300 sunny days a year, besting most other regions in the land (even San Diego).  But for the seven days Chris was here, the sun came out not once.  We didn't get to sit in our field-level seats at Coors Field because all games in the series were SNOWED out.  We went to Estes Park, but stayed inside all day to avoid the freezing drizzle.  We managed to shoot hoops several times, but had to develop special rules to avoid Death Puddle Number One and his eight evil counterparts.

Late in the week, we finally applied some wisdom.  We gave up our fair-weather plans and went on a hike that consisted of one mile of walking and three hours of throwing snowballs at inanimate objects.  For the record, I may have lost every game of one-on-one on the basketball court, but I came out quite well on the made-up snowball games in the mountains.  (Not to brag, but I tend to dominate all sports where I invent the rules.)

(Side note: It's a well-known fact among our friends that Chris and I will make a competition out of anything.  In college we invented a game called "Nut" that involved a golf ball, a hardwood staircase, a coat hanger, a Tupperware canister, and the word "Nut".  I want you to imagine what it sounds like to bounce a golf ball down a wooden staircase, then I want you to imagine being our neighbors in the next apartment.  Yeah.)

(Related side note: My wife and I made up a game once that involved kicking a large toy ball up our stairs, then watching it come bouncing down.  It might sound boring, but we played this game for hours and even introduced some of our friends to it.  Sarah titled the game “You Never Know (But Sometimes You Do).”  And now you know why I’m crazy about her.)

We did other things too.  We talked a lot, mainly about deep subjects, like the meaning of the book of Revelations, our opinions of local commentator Scott Hastings, and Mr. Hastings’ potential role in the demise of our planet vis-à-vis his recent interview of John Elway.  We talked a lot about music, listened to a lot of music, recorded some music, and ate more Nutty Bars than two grown men should.  We let the dirty dishes pile up, managed to forget something each time we left the house, and generally looked gross. 

This morning I took Chris to the airport and, of course, the sky was gray and the mountains were hidden from view.  But after I dropped him off and made for work the sky began to clear.  By the time I parked my car at the office, the sky was that brilliant Colorado blue and everything felt warm.  The timing of it all made me smile, and as I reflected on the week and the good times Chris and I had while avoiding the weather, I thought:  Thank goodness that smelly farting man is gone.  I can finally enjoy some sunshine.