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If ever there was ever a character who resonated with me, it is Larry David. As sad as that may seem, there are a disproportionately abundant number of times that I'll be watching Curb Your Enthusiasm and find myself thinking, "You know what? I'm with Larry on this one... I can definitely see how that could happen to a guy."
Is it wrong to empathize with LD? I really don't think so. Because you would be astounded by the number of occurences in my life that could pass for episodes in CYE. Take last Friday night for instance.
After a night out on the town, my girlfriend and I got back to my place sometime after 2. Looking for something to watch (the Jays had been obliterated by the O's, and I couldn't stomach any more highlights), I stumbled across Showcase's Friday Night "Television Without Borders" lineup... Have you seen this thing? Aphrodisia, Porno Valley, Debbie Does Dallas...Again... What the...?!?!
When I was a kid and we got home late and wanted something juicy to watch on TV (this is pre-internet in the McCallum household, I'll have you know), we'd tune into the squigglies on channel 44 and try to make out a breast here or a thrusting motion there, all the while keeping the sound low enough so our parents wouldn't catch on to our little ploy with the fuzzy-buzzies.
But today? Honestly, as if it isn't enough that kids have access to every conceivable class of porn at the touch of a world-wide-web's button, they actually get to come home from a night of drinking in the park and are able to tune in to the likes of PT teaching his young recruits how to properly fake an orgasm?!?! It's unheard of. People are always talking about how hard it must be to be a kid in today's world, but I think I'd trade places with them in a heartbeat.
In any event, Sandra had seen just about enough of Debbie Does Dallas...Again, and decided to turn in for the night. I was obviously glued to the tube, and told her that I'd be up just as soon as PT narrowed his list of "new Debbie" candidates down to 4. Bring on the impending Larry David momment.
So I'm sitting there on the couch, every ounce of my attention focused on the emmy-worthy drama unfolding before my very eyes, and as is often the case when I'm sitting on the couch, I found myself with an itch... you know, down there. This is pretty much the most commonplace occurence for any guy, getting a set of itchy nuts while sitting down for awhile, so I don't even give it a conscious thought because... well, because I'm sitting on my own damn couch and it's 3 o'clock in the morning. So anyway, I stick my hand down my pants to give the boys a good ol' scratch (is there anything better?), and just as I'm doing so, Sandra comes down the stairs and takes in the scene of me sitting there on the couch with my hand down my pants, an undeniable oscillating motion coming from the depths of my denim cloaked crotch (I WAS SCRATCHING!!!), while 3 naked girls are having a simultaneous orgasm on the TV in front of me.
Needless to say, she was less than impressed.
I honestly felt like Kevin Spacey's character in American Beauty when the kid leans over to roll the joint and Spacey leans back in contented satisfaction, and all the while the kid's dad is standing there thinking he's witnessing his son doing his best George Michael impression.
A huge misunderstanding. Really. So Larry, I feel your pain.
And so for those of you out there who have found yourselves in similarly uncompromising positions, or situations in which you're surrounded by overly sensitive people who take the harmless things you say to heart; or if you ever just find yourself unable to let something go, here are a couple of my favourite Larry-isms to let you know that you're not alone.