The Green Red Green (5 page)

On the off chance that you live until morning, get up quietly and collapse everybody else’s tents. This will create a certain amount of confusion and even hostility, so none of them will notice you siphoning their gas.

Grab an armful of other people’s cookware and hit the road. The disappointment of having to return to your job or family will be offset by the fun of whipping pots and pans at hitchhikers.

Go back to your normal life and count the days until Tuesday.

T
he Red Green Show
was not my first stab at television. That surprises most people who’ve seen it. Over the years, I’ve hosted a large number of outdoors shows and nature films. Here’s some of my other work, which you may or may not have seen and/or enjoyed. I have everything I’ve ever done recorded on tape (mostly Beta and some eight-tracks).

The Lure of Lures
(1971–74). Lure-Id Films, Inc. 26 episodes. Every week I talked for a half-hour about fishing lures. My guests included a very young Michelle Pfeiffer. This series can sometimes be seen in reruns after 4 a.m. on small cable channels during thunderstorms.

“Mr. Bait” Commercials (1975–77). I was the official spokesperson for the Mr. Bait Shop in town. I loaned my face and good name to promote their fine line of fishing bait. Most people don’t remember seeing me in those commercials—perhaps because my face was somewhat obscured by the giant worm costume.

Run, Kids! It’s a Big, Bad Fire!
(1978). This was a film I made for the local fire department. It was an educational film warning schoolchildren about the dangers of playing with matches. To save money, we filmed it at my house. Ironically, one of the bright movie lights set fire to a stack of empties and burned the place down. The profits from the film almost covered the $500 deductible on my fire insurance policy.

Let’s Fry Something Good
(1980–83). Fry Films, Inc. 45 episodes. This was a cooking show I did with my wife, Bernice. Each week she would fry up a different meal—fish, chicken, spaghetti. I would sit on a stool and banter with her and ask questions like “Is that a real apple?” At the end of the show, I would taste what Bernice had prepared and smile at the camera and go “MmmmmmMMM!” (Golly, that was acting.) Series was cancelled when my cholesterol level surpassed our ratings.

Understanding Computers
(1984). An educational TV series about understanding and using your brand-new home computer. I hosted the show and played the part of the viewer—the person who knows nothing about computers. Over the series, I learned all about software and hardware and so on from my tutor—played by my then five-year-old nephew. The show had a good budget, a great time slot, and lots of snazzy special effects. Our only mistake was choosing the Mattel Intellivision as our computer.

Cars and Bikinis
(1985). Headlight Productions. Pilot episode only. This was a great idea that never went to series. Kind of like
Baywatch
, but with cars too. Just too ahead of its time.

Explosions!
(1986). BoomBoom Films. Pilot episode only. This was an educational series about the history of things blowing up. An unfortunate incident during filming shut the project down. Later, the A&E network bought the idea off me for thirty dollars and retitled it
Brute Force
, and it was a hit. Timing is everything. As we learned during that unfortunate accident during filming.

Buster and the Fat Man
(1987–88). Thriller Productions. (Made for the Canadian cable TV channel Mystery Movies of the Week.) I moved behind the camera to try my hand at writing, directing,
producing, set designing, costume designing, lighting, gripping, publicizing, and editing. Concept: a couple of wisecracking detectives walk a fine line between danger and comedy and justice. The Fat Man is an ex-cop and circus sword swallower. Buster is a former con, born in England, raised by wolves, now rebuilding his life. I reused a lot of footage from
Explosions!
and
Cars and Bikinis
. It was a great concept, lots of fun, but making the two lead characters Siamese twins was, in hindsight, a mistake. The titles of the four movies are
Dial 911 for Murder; Love, Larceny, and Larry; The Maltese Possum;
and
Murder Most Lousy
. These movies can still be seen in reruns at my house when there’s nothing else on and I’m feeling sorry for myself.

Acid Rain! What Acid Rain?
(1988). The Association of Canadian Mining Corporations. 22 minutes. Another educational film I made on behalf of some very big companies. During filming, I learned a whole bunch of stuff about the environment I didn’t know before. The upbeat message of this film is that Mother Nature is a lot more resilient than we think.

Got an old bowling ball that’s dented or broken or always flies into the gutter for some reason? Don’t toss it. Turn it into a lovely ebony flower holder.

How? Clamp the ball in a large vise so the finger holes face down. Sand the top side of the ball until it’s somewhat flat. Remove
from vise. Turn the ball over so it rests on its flat surface. Put flowers in the finger holes. (Drill more holes for a fuller bouquet.)

Have your babies grown up and reached drinking age? Don’t throw out their old playpen, because your kids’ll probably get married, have nine kids of their own, become unemployed, and announce they’re moving back into your home.

If you get lucky and they don’t move back, why not turn that playpen into a lovely wine rack? After all, with the kids gone, you can afford some nice wine.

How? Disassemble the playpen, making sure not to wreck the four sides. Take two sides and lay one on top of the other, at right angles, so that the posts form a cross pattern. Screw, nail, glue, or—better still—duct-tape the two sides together. Repeat with the remaining two sides. Join them with short lengths of wood. And you’ve got a wine rack! Now stock it with baby bottles filled with homemade beer. Then when you’re thirsty, grab a bottle and suck on the nipple. Is that heaven or what?

When you convert your house from hot-water radiators to forced-air gas, save a couple of those old iron rads. They’ll make a great steam calliope, like the ones the old circuses used to have before they all went bankrupt.

How? I’m not sure. Our house has electric baseboard heaters. But it shouldn’t be hard.

I
want to talk to all you middle-aged guys about the fading urges, the sense that you are maybe not the passionate lover you once were—at least the way you tell it.

First of all, the fact that you’ve changed from a young stag who is eager to rut into an old drag who’s stuck in a rut is a good thing. There is less chance you’ll become a father at a time when you no longer have the patience or the energy or the brain power to, say, help with homework.

Another upside to the loss of your sex drive is that once or twice a week, for a few fleeting minutes, you’ll actually be able to concentrate on other stuff, like, say, your job.

So accept the declining desire. Your wife is probably just as happy to read in bed and you get to watch all the hockey games, even if there’s overtime.

I
was kind of a rebellious teenager, looking to lash out against authority. And I could always find someone willing to take me on. Nowadays, I walk away from confrontational people and spend my time with friends.

I recommend that instead of looking for people to hit, we all start looking for people to hug. But not in a subway full of strangers. I’ll never make that mistake again.

F
ind out with this quiz. The questions apply to both men and women. You and your significant other should answer these questions honestly and openly. Just never, ever show each other your answers.

1) My marriage is more important to me than:

2) When I have a serious problem, I know I can count on my spouse to:

3) My spouse and I laugh at the same things:

4) I would say that my spouse feels like our sex life is:

5) I think it’s important for a couple to share the same:

6) My spouse buys special fancy silk undergarments for me to wear:

7) On our honeymoon, my spouse and I discovered:

8) As a couple, we try to set aside quality time for each other:

9) The famous couple we are most like is:

10) If my spouse and I had to do it all over again, knowing what we know now:

T
here are certain times when the woman in your life will ask you a question and you won’t have time to think about your answer. This is the worst one.

You’re not going to say yes unless you have a death wish, but you have to say no the right way or this conversation will go into triple overtime. Just say no. Right away. As soon as she asks. Just say no. Just like that. No pause. No thinking it over. No saying, “Well … no, not really.”

But don’t go too far the other way either. You can’t say, “What, you? Fat? Ha! Get serious. Don’t make me laugh! Tell me another one! Sure, all your friends are fat, and so are your sisters, but not you! No way! You’re like an underfed chicken. It’s sickening how thin you are.” Because as I believe Shakespeare said, “Methinks the lady doth process too much.”

So when she asks, “Am I fat?” just say no and then ask her to go out for dinner. That way you’ll look like a hero, and since she’s worried about her weight, she’ll probably refuse the invitation. It’s a win-win.

I
want to talk to you middle-aged guys about job security. I’ve had a few jobs myself over the years, so I know the pink-slip warning signs. If you skip off work for a day and nobody notices,
that’s a bad sign. Or your boss keeps showing new employees around your office and asking them, “What about here?” That’s not good. Or you take a one-week holiday and they replace you with a twelve-year-old kid who doesn’t speak English. Then when you return, he gets a going-away party where everybody cries. And your boss writes down the kid’s home phone number.

If this sounds familiar to you, there are several steps you can take to prepare for the inevitable disaster.

Step one: Marry someone who has a job.

Step two: Get on first-name terms with everybody at the employment insurance place.

But most of all, don’t get down on yourself. Try to look on the bright side of being unemployed. Your time’s your own. No traffic problems—you wake up in the morning and you’re there.

When I was between jobs, from early June of 1982 to late August of 1989, I managed to keep my head up. A lot of people are working hard making money doing something they don’t enjoy (work), whereas you’re taking it easy making zip doing something you love (nothing). It’s not such a bad trade-off.

T
hinking of investing in the stock market? Or mutual funds? Or land in Florida? Here are some things to look for and some things to avoid in any opportunity.

W
hen I was a kid, we had an old pull-start lawn mower. You’d tie a knot in one end of a rope and hook that into the hub on top, and then give it a good yank. Sometimes, if your brother was standing too close, the knotted end of the rope would whip out and nail him in the groinal area. That was always good for a laugh. Eventually the knot would break off and you’d have to tie another and then another, and in time, the rope got too short to use. So you’d go to the hardware store and buy a new piece and start the process all over again. It was inconvenient and sometimes irritating, but on the other hand, you always knew how to fix the problem, and that made you feel strong and in control.