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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] Oh. Is that what it means? Why didn’t you say so in high school?
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] I did. But we were throwing raisins at each other. See what happens when you don’t listen?
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] That’s because I knew that some day you were going to be a world-famous author who’d remember these things for me. Go ahead. Argue with that.
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FROM THE JOURNAL OF
Travis Puckett
THE PUCKETT/DUBOISE DEBATES
TRAVIS:
Hello?
GORDO:
I have an Oscar-winning idea for a movie.
TRAVIS:
No. Forget it. I’m hanging up. I’ve been here before.
GORDO:
Just give me a chance! It’s called Me and Mickey, and it’s about these two kids who decide they’re going to bring Mickey Mantle home for their dad’s fortieth birthday.
TRAVIS:
Does this have anything to do with the time you made me sneak into the Yankee clubhouse with you by pretending my leg was broken?
GORDO:
Um—in a vague way.
TRAVIS:
That’s what you said about Almost Like Being in Love. And it’s been six years!
GORDO:
These things take time. Universal wants to preserve the integrity of the story.
TRAVIS:
Then why did they cast Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts as me and Craig?
GORDO:
To give it broader appeal.
TRAVIS:
By making us detectives? Let me talk to A.J.
GORDO:
She’s in Toronto.
TRAVIS:
I don’t blame her.
FROM THE DESK OF
Gordon Duboise
Pop:
Any word on Almost Like Being in Love? I’ve got an antsy collaborator on the East Coast who’s ready to slit my throat long distance.
G
ARGOSY ENTERTAINMENT
Literary Representatives
LOS ANGELES
NEW YORK
TORONTO
LONDON
Gordon:
Good news. They’re not cops any more. Now they’re dueling reporters assigned to the 1962 Mets. (Somebody’s nephew is doing the rewrite. He thinks it needs a shark.)
On an unrelated front, Bruce Willis wants to play a musketeer, but he doesn’t like swords or long hair or fluffy collars. So I sent Universal another copy of Code Name Shapiro with a new title page that says Die Hard IX. Just got a call from Business Affairs. They want to buy it. Again.
By the way—I’m kidnaping my granddaughters on Saturday. There’s a puppet show at Chucky Cheese. You can come if you like, but your lap stays empty. I outrank you.
Grandpop
BEWARE!
You have just entered
home page of
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GORDON DUBOISE
screenwriter/father/former heartthrob
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Click here to find out more about us
Click here for a list of my credits
Click here for pictures of Katie and Jessica
Click here for pictures of Jessica and Katie
Click here for A.J.’s L.A. Times column
Click here for Katie’s first painting (of Mommy and Daddy)
Click here for Jessica’s first poem (about Elmer the Patchwork Elephant)
Click here for pictures of me in my Speedos (edited by my wife for home viewing)
Click here to send me e-mail
Click here to post a message on my bulletin board (Keep it clean. The kids can work a Web browser.)
Dear A.J.,
Dinner was a disaster. Jessica ate her broccoli and chicken, but Katie ate crayons. A blue one and a red one. Now her diaper looks weird.
Jessie wanted to stick the Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah singalong tape into the VCR herself, so I let her. Do head cleaners work on grape jelly? Because Uncle Remus is glued on Pause.
Before I could catch her and plunk her in the tub, Katie ran out into the front yard and began shrieking “I’m naked! I’m naked!” to most of Santa Monica. We can probably expect a visit from Social Services any minute.
We survived a major crisis when Jessie dropped Dipsy and Po into the toilet to see if they’d flush. The plumbers left twenty minutes ago, but while they were down there they also found Elmo and $18 in change.
What does “Daddy no chockit” mean? Katie started chanting it right after Travis called and the kids were fighting over who got to talk to Uncle T next.
My dad’s preempting them on Saturday and your mother’s taking them to the zoo on Sunday to see the raffes and the effants. Would I be considered a lousy father if I moved while they were gone?
Incidentally, had I known four years ago that “dusting off” your journalism degree meant losing you to Canada for ten days, I’d have set fire to it first—so in case you’ve forgotten how to take a hint, the Toronto Film Festival doesn’t need you nearly as much as your children do (not to mention your other half ).
I love you. I miss you. I’m lost without you.
G
Dear Mr. Mom:
This morning they screened your Richard Gere movie. To quote the man I married, “Yikes!” Wait until you see my review in the Times. (Don’t worry—you’re the only one who doesn’t get the blame. “Despite a taut script by Gordon Duboise….”)
Loosely translated, “Daddy no chockit” means “Uncle T gives me Hershey Kisses and toys and pony rides and anything else I want, but Daddy is a cranky old doodyhead who says things like ‘No’ and ‘Stop it’.” Don’t take it personally—I get the same routine after they’ve spent an afternoon with Grandy: “Mommy no ice pops.”
I’ll be home in three days. Lock up the Crayolas until then. (Especially the green ones. That’s her favorite flavor.)
I love you back. So do Dipsy and Po.
Mrs. Mom
P.S. I’ve thrown up three times since breakfast, and not because of Richard Gere. This one’s going to be a boy—he’s already too much of a pain in the ass to be anything but. All things considered, I’ve pretty much settled on naming him Travis Craig Duboise, but you get a vote too. We can always call him T.C. or Beav.
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] Are you still there?
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] Who wants to know?
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] I’ve got to write my bio for Who’s Who. Would it be fair to say that I look like Tom Cruise?
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] Yes. Except for your eyes, your nose, your mouth, and your hair. Besides, he’s a lot younger than you are.
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] Did anybody ever tell you that you’re heartless?
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] Only Heathcliff, Catherine, and the Pioneer Scouts. But they didn’t mean it.
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Superior Court of the State of New York in and for the County of Saratoga
CITY OF SARATOGA,
)
CASE NO. CIV. 100455
SPRINGS,
)
Plaintiff,
)
)
vs.
)
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THE PIONEER SCOUTS,
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a nonprofit corporation,
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Defendant.
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________________________________
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HEARING ON DEFENDANT’S MOTION TO DISMISS
The Honorable John J. Costanzo, Judge Presiding
TRANSCRIPT OF PROCEEDINGS
Attorneys for Plaintiff, City of Saratoga Springs: Charleen W. Kessler, Esq. Attorney for Defendant, The Pioneer Scouts: Derek Hershman, Esq.
1
THE COURT:
Are all counsel present?
2
MS. KESSLER:
Plaintiff, Your Honor.
3
MR. HERSHMAN:
Defense, Your Honor. Requesting dismissal on behalf of the Pioneer Scouts.
4
5
THE COURT:
Again? Now what did they do?
6
MS. KESSLER:
It seems they removed a troop leader for having a boyfriend—
7
8
MR. HERSHMAN:
Objection, Your Honor. Counsel attempts to cite the New Jersey appellate decision in Aronson vs. Boy Scouts, which has no jurisdiction in this Court.
9
10
1
MS. KESSLER:
It does now, Your Honor. House Bill No. 7972. Enacted into law at midnight. “No organization qualifying for nonprofit status shall promote any type of discrimination based upon sexual orientation.”
2
3
4
5
THE COURT:
Who pushed that one through?
6
MS. KESSLER:
Craig McKenna.
7
THE COURT:
Why did I ask? Did he really tell Trent Lott to—
8
MS. KESSLER:
Yes, Your Honor. And may I remind the Court that he’s still admitted to the bar of this state? So if, for some unlikely reason, defendant’s motion is sustained, I’ll have to ask the Congressman to try this case himself.
9
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THE COURT:
Just what I need. Motion denied. The complaint stands.
14
15
MS. KESSLER:
Thank you, Your Honor.
16
MR. HERSHMAN:
Objection!
17
THE COURT:
Next case.
LOUISE MCKENNA, M.D.
OBSTETRICS/GYNECOLOGY
Jefferson Medical Plaza, Suite 100
903 Saint Charles Street
St. Louis, Missouri 63101
Darling:
You made all the papers here. “St. Louis Boy Kicks Trent Lott’s Butt.” Alma Colson is livid. The only thing her son did last week was remove a kidney stone.
Clayton has a birthday coming up. He never did accept gifts graciously. This year he’s attempting to put me off by claiming he wants a boa constrictor. I may just send him one.
Call me.
Love,
Mom
CLAYTON’S HARDWARE
serving Saratoga Springs since 1988
Craig—
We finally fixed the living room tilt at the house in Cape Vincent, but then Brian went and left a pile of varnish rags on the floor. While we were at dinner, they spontaneously combusted, so now we need a new wall too. Since you’re the one who hired Kevin, and since Kevin’s the one who set up the blind date with Bri, this is all your fault. So if I end up on the losing end of a spousal abuse suit, I expect you to represent me.
I’m enclosing an article that was in the Courant. They bleeped out what you said, but they kept the photo of Trent Lott with his mouth hanging open. According to page 3, your approval rating just went up another six points. Can’t you just imagine what would have happened if you’d pulled a stunt like that when we were still living together? You’d have been sleeping on the couch through basketball season. Without sheets.
This isn’t for publication, but they’re angling to bring a Double-A franchise to Flatbush, and Jody and I may have a shot at the contract for the ballpark. (Travis is going to break my neck if we don’t make it look like a little Ebbets Field, so what choice do we have?) I’ll be down in the city from the 14th to the 18th—save me two lunches, a dinner, and a Mets game to be named later.
I love you.
C
Noah Kessler
1255 Carriage House Lane
Saratoga Springs, New York 10266
Dear Craig,
Okay. Maybe we need to redefine our terms. When I said you should tell Trent Lott to kiss your ass, I was being facetious. Mocking. Comical. Without significant purpose. I didn’t mean you should actually do it—and definitely not in front of CNN.
You once told me that the only thing I needed to know about being a man was that one less sock always comes out of the dryer. You were full of shit. This is just a random sampling of the minefield I live in—and I’m not even 18 yet!
There’s this girl. Her name is Soupy. (Not really, but we have three Susans in our class so we identify them by their last initials. Sue B., Sue L. and Sue P. Soupy’s got sort of amalgamated.) She ignored me for most of two semesters and then she cornered me in a coat room and asked me if I wanted to kiss her. So I told her yes and proved it. Now she says she’ll go to the junior prom with me but it doesn’t mean anything serious because kissing her before I found out about stuff like her favorite bands and movie stars, etc., means that I’m not emotionally available yet. What’s that all about?
They had Mother’s Night at school. Mom and Charleen both came. I tried to keep them away from Mr. Landey and his Comp Lit classroom, but they found it anyway. So he showed them my last book report. (“Canterbury Tales. There was a cook and he had a venereal disease and he got it in the food. Do I really need to know this?”) The other kids only have one mother to kick their ass. I get yelled at in Dolby.
Dad thinks that because I’m 17 he needs to walk me through The Talk again. Get this: “You’re okay with masturbation, right?” Okay with it? Craig, I invented it. Five years ago! Remember when we all went to the Hall of Fame for my birthday weekend? And remember at dinner when we had that really pretty waitress with the big you-know-whats and all of a sudden I got sick in the middle of the salad and asked if I could go up to my room and lie down? Hello? Did I look sick?
My best bud Glen is having boyfriend troubles, so in between prepping for my SATs and practicing my emotional availability, it’s part of my job to help him plot strategies for running into Doogie by accident—which is supposed to remind them about how much they love each other. (Doogie, incidentally, would be a major league asshole if he tried a little harder, but he’s not motivated enough to move past minor league dipshit.) Meanwhile, there’s this terrific kid named Ricky who plays football and sits two rows in front of us in Trig, and he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off Glen all semester. Everybody knows it except Glen. Is it a guy thing, or are men just morons?
Since I already know that I’m going to major in either politics or television, there’s only two colleges I want to apply to: Syracuse and Columbia. But Syracuse means that Mom and Dad and Charleen and Clayton and Brian and whoever else feels like it can sneak over there to check up on me when I’m not looking, and Columbia means that you’ll do the same thing and don’t try to tell me you won’t. I need Travis to help me write a Declaration of Independence so the adults in my life can get a hint that I’m not a kid anymore.
But you were right about the socks.
I love you.
Noah
P.S. Can Soupy and I come and stay with you this summer? Maybe you
can convince her that I have sensitivity.
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] You’re working too hard. Want to play hooky and go to a movie with me?
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TO:
[email protected] FROM:
[email protected] You have too much time on your hands. Why don’t you write another book?