Is It Just Me?: Or is it Nuts Out There? (8 page)

People with severe nut and peanut allergies can have a really bad day if someone’s eating them nearby. Sometimes the crew will make an announcement if such a person is aboard. If so, be nice. Be a squirrel. Store your nuts until you land.

As long as we’re on the subject of being kind to the noses of others, let’s remember that your workplace might be a closed space, too. So in addition to the foods on our airplane list, here’s another one that will help you make friends on the ground:

FUNKY FOODS NOT TO MICROWAVE IN THE OFFICE

Many workplaces no longer give employees a full lunch break. Or maybe you are doing your best to save some money and bring a lunch. You need to know that the microwave in the break room broadcasts the odor of your lunch. Notice I didn’t say aroma. An aroma is what it smells like to you. To everyone else, it’s an odor.

Avoid these odiferous microwave no-no’s:

• Popcorn. Yes, popcorn. Ask anybody. It stinks. And hangs there all day.

• Broccoli or cauliflower

• Soups with broccoli or cauliflower

• Onion soup

• Certain prepared meals, especially diet meals, are lethal.

• Last night’s Mexican combo plate

• Last night’s chicken tikka masala

• Lamb kabobs or lamb stew

• Exotic foods of the world will not make you a goodwill ambassador.

• Anything with vinegar. Phew.

There’s plenty other good stuff to eat. Unless you really enjoy getting the “WTF?” look as you walk back to your desk.

Chapter 27
Babes on a Plane

We all know there is no airline just for parents, OK? So when small kids need to fly, the question needs to be asked, how do we do this together? My feeling is this . . . We’ve got to try to give as much help as we can to the person who’s got the baby. Especially if you are the one stuck next to them. Love it or hate it . . . you will be stuck for hours—so help them out. They don’t want a screaming baby either. They don’t want the baby to do what it’s doing. But a baby’s going to do what babies do. And what do they do? They scream.

If you’re in a seat next to a screaming baby, you have two choices. You can simply turn to the person who’s got the kid and say, “What can I do to help you?” Or, you can say, “Is it really going to be that bad if you give the child what it wants?” Because for the five hours you’re going to be on this plane, the baby’s going to be really unhappy because it wants the keys, or the ring, or whatever.

Baby wants the toys.

The thing about babies on planes is that it’s not an “if.” No, it’s more like a “when” the screaming’s going to happen. But chances are, if you’re the parent, you kind of know what’s going to piss ’em off, and what’s not going to piss ’em off. Babies want to get down and walk around. They can’t. It’s not possible. Babies cannot walk up and down the aisles. So it helps to bring enough stuff along that keeps them occupied. As the parent, it is your responsibility to keep the baby entertained. Trust me, I know you want to sit back and close your eyes—even for just one glorious minute . . . God, what we would all give for just that one minute—but if you’re not traveling with someone else, you can’t.

If you are the lucky seatmate, earplugs may dampen all the sound, but if that baby is trying to roll out of the seat and get away from the mother and do all kinds of baby stuff, earplugs don’t mean squat. So do you want to make this work? Then I’d take out the earplugs and the first thing I’d say is, “What can I do to help you?” . . . By the way, you do know I mean to say that to the parent, right? You can say it to the baby if you want, but don’t expect much of an answer.

So-called “experienced parents” like to give advice to folks traveling for the first time on an airplane with a baby. Useless tips like “It’s important to remember that you’ll never see any of those people again.”

That only works for about five minutes. Because for the five hours that you’re with them, they are boring a hole into your head. Your skull is about to give like a Gulf oil leak . . . because your baby is just performing. And in airplanes, what do they have? A built-in audience that can’t move. For hours. So just get everything together. Have the bottle someplace where you can keep it handy. Have the baby toys that you know you will need.

Like I said, there’s no Parent Air, which is what I would start if I were going to start an airline. It’s a great idea and, if the right person is reading this book, we could start Parent Air.

In the meantime, I wish that the airlines provided baby things to play with. They could, maybe, give out little mobiles and things like that. Or those special crayons for little kids. Yeah, that’ll happen. Sure it will. The same day they stop charging for bags and the pilots come around to give in-flight neck rubs. So, in the meantime, just be prepared that it’s all on you and that your focus for the next five hours is going to be on the baby.

Oh, another thing . . . I know I may be piling on here, but this one is very important, OK?

If you’re a parent of a child who is going to—perhaps—act up, don’t pretend you don’t see it. Or hear it. Or that you don’t know that it’s freaking people out. Acknowledge it. And, at least, give the folks around you the look that says, “I don’t know what to do.” But don’t act like it’s not happening. Because that pisses people off even more. Don’t ignore it. And just because you’re allowed to fly with your baby, doesn’t give you the right not to care that other people who may not have children are going to be on there too. And they may not dig it. In fact, they may be very uncomfortable with it. And a “deal with it” attitude from you doesn’t really go far in making friends or having people like your baby. So let them see that you’re actively trying to do everything that you can do. Who knows, you may even win over some folks and get some help you didn’t expect.

It’s not an easy feat to take babies with you when you’re going somewhere, because they get crabby, they want stuff, and they want to be B-U-S-Y.

That’s why it’s not a bad idea to start practicing with the kid before you travel. Sit for ten minutes just holding on to the baby so they get used to it. Otherwise, it’s a new experience all around, and they won’t like it. And will they ever let you know. So just start doing little things that you know you’re going to have to do on the plane. Figure out ways to make it work, because you will be surrounded by other people who are trying to get through their nightmare too.

And, once again, a smile goes a very long way. It may not help, but it goes a very long way.

Chapter 28
A Civil Person’s Handy List: What to Bring for a Kid on a Plane

If you are a parent experienced in flying with children, turn the page. But plenty of new moms and dads haven’t yet been exposed to the joys of travel with kids. For you, here are some tips on what to bring along to make your trip better:

• Storybooks and coloring books. DO NOT forget the crayons.

• A
silent
electronic toy or game like a PSP

• Plastic keys

• Make a little photo album of friends and family to flip through.

• An MP3 player with headphones and kid music

• That special stuffed teddy bear or whatever makes your child feel relaxed

• Bring the Blankie. But be careful. Don’t forget it and leave it on the plane. It happens. Ask any shrink. I still fly with my Blankie.

The TSA does let you bring along formula, breast milk, medications, and baby food in reasonable sizes over the 3.4 ounce limit. They just want you to declare it to the agent when you get to the checkpoint. The rules change, though, so if you’re not sure, contact the airline or look on the TSA website: www.tsa.gov.

Chapter 29
Louder, They Can’t Hear You in the Lobby

Is it just me, or do people simply not recognize they are out in public? They seem to think they’re in their living rooms. Am I alone here? I think not.

If you are also getting irritated by this more and more and don’t know how to address the problem—and by “problem” I mean “those loud people who think they are home”—I may be able to help. I shall now address them on behalf of all of us:

The theater is not your living room.

(I’m counting movie theaters, Broadway theaters . . . theaters in the park).

I repeat:

It’s not your living room.

It’s simple.

If it’s that hard not to talk for two hours, maybe you ought to keep your ass home!

Here’s the point.
Everybody
has paid their $75,000 to get into the movie, and they want to watch it, or see the show. So why do you feel the need to pretend like you’re sitting in your living room having a conversation with your husband?

What gives anyone the nerve to step on my right to enjoy myself in silence? If you want to talk through it—go home! And why, in the movies, are you surprised when suddenly the usher comes up and goes, “ ’Scuse me. You are talking way too much.” Now everybody is distracted. Congratulations, you have created an issue where there didn’t have to be one. You’ve brought attention where you didn’t have to have it. You’ve disrupted everybody’s good time. All you had to do was know where you are . . . which is NOT at home!

THE MOVIES

Now. There are cultural differences that exist when you go to certain movies. Sometimes when you go to the movies in, say, a black neighborhood, folks talk to the screen. Know that. That’s part of the show. I don’t know why. It’s what happens sometimes. White neighborhoods don’t seem to talk to the screen. Unless it’s
Rocky Horror
.

But if you’re in the theater, and you’re the only one making noise . . . there’s a problem. If you can hear yourself in the movies . . . there’s a problem. Can you guess what it is? Run to the mirror. What do you see?

You
. Yes, you.

Imagine a movie
you
want to see, that
you
were enthralled by, and you’ve got some bonehead giving you play-by-play or asking about the Sno-Caps. Or talking about the fact that you don’t think that actress is all that great . . . or that she’s any good in this movie. Who wants to hear it? You don’t want to hear that. You’re shushing people when you’re watching TV at home, so why do you think it’s OK to go to the movies and act out? Have a little consideration for your neighbors who are sitting around you. Staring laser beams at the back of your head.

Because if
everybody
starts to exhibit that kind of behavior, you’ve got all kinds of problems.

So remember. Know where you are. And if you’re in a movie where everybody is talking, knock yourself out. But if you are not, then—how can I put this nicely?—shut up!

Oh, and don’t bring little kids to the movies. You know what I mean. I mean the movies that are not meant for little kids. I understand sometimes you don’t have any money to get a babysitter and you just really want to go to the movies. OK.
Go in the morning
. Go to the ten a.m. show. Don’t go to the eight p.m. show.
Because
you
know
babies are going to be cranky. Or it’s going to be too loud for them. Or too scary for them.

So if you find yourself desperate to get out of the house and go to the movies, go early, because you
know
you’re going to have to get up and leave because the baby doesn’t want to be there anyway in the dark, just sitting there. Kids don’t sit still. And their attention span is relatively short. So they psych you out for like, twenty minutes, and then they go off.

Who’s enjoying the movie now? You? The baby? . . . Nobody!

And think about that child. Some kids have issues, like being sound sensitive. You need to know that before you take them into the THX theater. That big low rumble that sounds so great to
us
when the mother ship is landing may not sound all that great to a kid. And they can’t explain it. They may not have the words yet, so they do the next best thing. Flip out.

And little kids will talk through a movie. “What
is
that?” “Why is he doing that?” “When is this going to be over?” “Can we go?” “I have to go to the bathroom.” “Could I have something to eat?”

So if it’s not the best experience for you, for the kid, or for the people in the theater with you, doesn’t it seem like a lot of trouble for a $25 soda?

THE STAGE THEATER

As a performer on the live stage, one thing that irritates me is people coming in late. Yeah, traffic can be a factor, anything can happen, fine, fine, fine . . . But coming in after a show has started distracts everyone—folks acting and folks watching. ’Cause now, all we see is you . . . late . . . making noise (I really do hope it’s not you who ends up getting those ugly stares). So avoid being late, if you can.

Ringing cell phones are also a pain. Folks let them ring and ring because they are hoping and praying nobody will figure out it is theirs.

Sorry, but everybody knows it’s you. They
know
it’s you. The people sitting around you are looking dead
at you
, saying silently, “This jackass’s phone has gone off. And look, he’s not doing anything.” If you’re at a play, or you’re at a performance, those people on the stage can hear your phone. So just fumbleflub around and turn it off. Just do that. Best thing is just to turn it off as soon as you sit down.

The only person who should have any kind of device that goes off in a theater is a doctor. They’re the only people that
have to
have their cell phones with them.

Here’s another pain in the ass new technology has brought us . . . People in the theater audience have started to shoot video on their phones. You have to know it’s a lousy thing to do. It’s piracy. It’s one of the things that irritates the hell out of me. ’Cause, basically, you are
stealing
somebody’s performance.

Why do you think that’s OK?

When I’m on a stage by myself, I say, “You cannot have your cell phone on. And if I see it, I’m going to put you out of here.” People get offended! They tell me they paid their money. I say, “Hey, you paid your money to come to the theater, that’s true, but I don’t remember a DVD giveaway included, so turn it off or get out, because you haven’t paid me for that.”

It’s rude, I know, but so is stealing my work.

And I feel bad for people in the audience who just wanted to see a show and now what do they have to do? They have to crane their necks to look around the guy holding up his cell phone to video it.

Am I the first one to wonder when a nice night in the theater stopped being just a night in the theater?

This cell phone recording is why so many comics and solo performers have changed the way they do things now. For instance, there’s a whole lot of stuff now that I just won’t say. I won’t say it because I don’t want my performance on YouTube out of context. And I can’t even find you. It’s anonymous. And that’s cowardly. You can edit it, you can cut it, you can do whatever you want to it and take my work someplace maybe I wasn’t going with it. But no one else knows that because they weren’t there.

Anyone give you the right to do that? Just because you have the technical capacity doesn’t mean you have the right to. Any more than it gives you the right to cut a hole in somebody’s wall and videotape them changing their clothes. What is the moral obligation of technical access? Is there one?

Does your cell phone make you so important you are emboldened to do whatever you want with it . . . wherever and whenever you want to? Texting? Talking? Videoing?

I say, if you’re that important, stay home. If you need to catch every beep and buzz that your phone does, stay home. Rent one of my DVDs and make us both happy.

EVERYWHERE ELSE

By now, if you go out you should know that there are certain things that are not OK. You don’t have the right to stick your phone in somebody’s face, you don’t have the right to make me listen to your conversation. You’re not entitled to that.

Whisper if you have to answer the phone in public. Be considerate. Because the little bit of space that I occupy in that restaurant is mine.

Now, why have I gone off this way? Because—to put it delicately—our manners have gone in the freakin’ toilet. Dainty, aren’t I?

I don’t know if bad cell phone manners can be stopped. I truly don’t. I believe cell phone rudeness is spreading in such a way that we are becoming a society where it doesn’t even matter what the law says. If your state has a hands-free cell phone law, ask yourself how many people you see still holding the wheel with one hand while they talk. And that’s only because the other hand is holding a sandwich! People still text while driving because they think they know how to do it. That’s nuts. They forget there are fifty billion other people on the road who may be thinking the same thing and who also assume the laws of the land, not to mention the laws of Nature, don’t apply to them either.

WTF?!

Even out of the car, cell phones are still a nuisance. But if you are a rude cell phone user, do you even know it? No, there you are, out in public with us folks just trying to go about our day, and you don’t think to turn the thing off. OK, maybe you forget. Or maybe you don’t care. But it goes off, and, instead of
getting up
and stepping out of the restaurant, or just turning it off, or seeing who it is and saying, “I’ll call you back,” you sit there and have a conversation, which I don’t need to hear! I don’t want to hear, really.

I don’t want to hear it when you’re going down the street, I don’t want to hear it when you’re in the elevator, I don’t want to hear it when you’re in a restaurant. Keep. That. To. Your. Self.

But you don’t. Why? Because, like most people . . . when they get on their cell phones . . . they shout, like suddenly they’re deaf and have no concept that they’re sitting around other people. It doesn’t matter to them. Because they
have
to talk on the phone.

“NO, THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO TALK ABOUT THE NEW DRAPES. WANNA HEAR?” No. As a matter of fact, I don’t. But let me ask . . . Since when did my rights get usurped by your need to talk to your decorator? . . . In my face?

And here’s the irony. If you challenge these boneheads, they’ll turn to you and say, “Hey this is a private conversation, buddy.”

“Well, actually, no. I can tell you what you said, I can tell you what you did, and, by the bye, I don’t think you should make that move with those window treatments.” Even if you are trying not to listen, you don’t have a choice.

Oh, and how about this one? Sometimes cell phone rudies treat you to music! Wonderful! What a boon to us music lovers to sit there and listen to someone audition their ring tones, trying to decide which one to use. “Hm, is my girlfriend a Katy Perry or more of a Rihanna? . . . Or maybe the
Jaws
theme?” And they don’t even know they’re doing it. People act like there’s an actual Cone of Silence that comes down over them. I’m here to tell you, no Cone, kids. I can actually hear you. I can see what you’re doing, I hear everything you’re saying.

So what can you do?

Well . . . you can hope people read this book that you’re reading. There’s an idea. Give them a copy of the book. And then go buy another one for yourself. Or call the bookstore and order one.

Just don’t do it on your cell phone when you’re in a restaurant sitting next to me.

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