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This week: I’ll Take the Backseat! Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ 2025  
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Preparing for someone’s wedding requires shopping for a new dress and choosing the perfect present for the happy couple. That was the least of my problems leading up to the event.
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A couple of our good friends got married on Valentine’s Day. I know, cliched and cutsie, but what are you going to do, eh? It was convenient for all the guys who attended because Valentine’s dinner would be part of the reception offerings, their woman still got to dress-up for the occasion, and it started late enough to cover most of the evening, so they didn’t have to take their ladies out to a dinner and a to celebrate this day of love. Nope, it was the perfect solution for many men. Best of all, they got to sit at tables with other male friends appreciating the easy way out and still being able to enjoy their time talking shop or sports or whatever else makes a guy feel at ease on such a hearts and flowers day.
When people are beyond the youthful blush in years and planning a wedding, the whole concept takes on a more comfortable existence. Hey, it’s not like the moody, maddening days of youth, collecting all the peripheral items of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. It’s simpler -- less hormonal.
Plus, in a tight community like ours, there is plenty of help from friends, to set-up tables, spread the tablecloths on and lay down the utensils and plates; add a centerpiece and voila!
Food is simpler because, face it, living in a retirement community, many of the guests are nearing their eighties and have delicate constitutions. Thus, finger sandwiches fill the trays, along with veggie platters and other side dishes. Easy to digest and not so filling, thus, avoiding the heavy-meal drowsiness and the possibility of snoring coming from table four.
Rewind to the day before the wedding:
“WL, let’s go to the pool while Ruby, is getting her tune-up. I need to tan my legs so I don’t have to wear stockings tomorrow night.” Ladies know what I mean. We love summer events so we can sun-darken our legs and moisturize them to a silkiness that fools the observer into assuming we are wearing our hose, thus completing the dressed-up look. Since I’m in Florida, I get to do that in the winter, too. 
“Good idea, WW. Maybe someone at the clubhouse will be able to give us a ride to get her when she’s done with her appointment.”
WL and I walked the short distance to the pool and settled-in.
One of our billiards-playing friends came out to talk to us, soon after I got a phone call that my Ruby was finished with her regular maintenance check-up. I figured, what the heck, give it a try.
“Hey, Web-Friend, do you think you could give us a ride to pick-up Ruby? We would have to wait for two hours or more, before his cousin comes home and can give us a ride. I have a couple things to do before tomorrow’s wedding and would love to have more time to do it.”
“Sure, no problem, but we’ve got to leave right now because I need to be someplace in a half-hour.”
What good luck! Two extra hours to get stuff done and still get back for plenty of time in the sun to finish the leg-coloring process.
However, I still had my yet-to-be-wet, bathing suit on, and not enough time to get home to change. I didn’t want to miss this early ride opportunity, so I threw on my bathing suit cover-up and headed to his car.
Cover-ups usually come in two lengths, very short or very long. Mine was very short. I tell you this to prepare you for the scene to follow.
Web-Lock, being the gentleman he is and knowing that my hip-history would make it a bit challenging for me, offered to sit in the backseat of the compact car. But, nooooooooooo, I insisted he sit up front, because he is a big man, being quite tall and muscular. I couldn’t imagine him climbing into the pull down seat arrangement to get into the tight back space. When will I learn to gracefully accept an offer that is for my own well-being, folks? 
“Are you sure, WW? It’ll be tough on your hip.”
“Oh, yes, it’s no problem at all, WL.”
I saw the size of the space I had to wriggle into and chose going in head first to make sure my top-heavy girth would safely make it past the door frame and front seat and act as an anchor to convince the lower half of my body to follow. Well, now I’m half in, with one leg lifted into the back seat, but not enough agility to contort in a way to coax the other hip and leg into the vehicle with relative ease.  WL gave me a gentle shove and lift action which sealed the deal.
Pheww, another crises averted -- or so I thought. Tight spaces are not my favorite things. I am claustrophobic, so having my knees at my chest in the backseat is a disturbing experience to say the least. Then, our dear friend decides to take the scenic route when the straight ahead and one turn would seal the deal.
“I’m sorry, guys, why did I think the auto mechanic was on the south side of town?” Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps it was because I mentioned 12th Street instead of Ave? It’s a lot harder trying to find my coordinates when my witch-broom is in the shop. Ruby usually knows where to go.
Finally we arrive at the mechanic’s. That, unfortunately, was the easy part. It occurred to me that getting out of the car might be challenging. In fact the opening seemed tighter looking from the inside out than it did the other way around. I tried going out head first, because head-first was how I entered the car, but the mechanical physics of it didn’t seem to work that way.
WL tried to pull me through and hold the front seat down at the same time, but I wasn’t going to budge. Then he went for the all-out head lock position as if he were the “forceps” and I the stubborn babe, unwilling to leave the comfort of the womb and face the cold cruel world. Well, that absurdity failed, also.
Then it dawned on me! I am no mathematical genius, thus physics was not a favorite subject of mine, but I knew one thing -- if something can get into something, that something should be able to get out of something. It’s like one of those laws of thermodynamics -- or is it Murphy’s Law? Well, whatever, I certainly wasn’t going to wait for the fire department and the use of the” jaws of life” to remove me from my current situation.
My brilliant idea was; if I entered the car head first, I’d have to exit the car rear first, thus reversing the action that got me into the situation in the first place. A simple solution to an already embarrassing problem. Now, the acrobatic fun begins! I had to face the opposite direction in the back seat and get up on my knees, then send one leg out and push up on my arms to coax the other leg out whilst still supporting the rest of my body so I could do the wriggle-crawl-push move, placing me into a perfectly formed aerodynamic figure, stuck in reverse. 
Meanwhile, my short cover-up was around my waist and my rear end was saluting the main street, which had a stoplight at that corner.  At that moment, I wished I had waited the extra two hours, or at least have had the back-side of my legs tanned before this performance, so I wouldn’t have felt so “naked.”
I knew I had a bathing suit on underneath the cover-up, but I’m not sure the public realized that. Also, my cheetah printed suit, as cute as it is on the beach or by the pool, seemed a little risque rearing it’s spots in public, especially in an area of town where sporting such spots usually wound up in an offer ending with some financial transaction of the unseemly type.
Meanwhile, our friend was trying to give me words of encouragement, like, “Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry, take your time.” I thanked him and then realized that I was “cleaving” him with my front bounty, while shaking my “booty” in public. Sure, take my time, right! Yup, boys will be boys, folks.
One last push and a quick pull from WL, and I was completely out of the car. There were short coded beeps and blaring horns along with various cat-calls, but somehow I found the dignity to take a bow and walk with all the grace I could muster into the mechanic’s shop to retrieve my Ruby.
The wedding was beautiful, my legs were tanned, but the lights were low and the lack of stockings wouldn’t have been noticed, anyway. Thus, the arrival of Valentine’s Day, 2015 will not long be forgotten -- at least by half the town!
It’s a wrap for this edition of the Comedy Newsletter.
Until next time--laugh hard, laugh often!
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Quick-Quill 
Don't get me started. my folks got a new phone and were trying to read the directions AND set up the voicemail message. Both were in their 80's. Dad is reading the instructions mom is following along."There isn't a dial tone. I'm not getting any beeps. Nothing!" They both leaned over the thing and one (neither will admit to it) says That's the remote, the phone is here beside you." We kids LOL and when we do something stupid, we laugh and say, "It's the remote!"
Scams are everywhere. Please tell your older family members about phone scams and do not do anything without consulting a younger member.
Good advice about protecting our older loved ones from these scams. Hmmm, my family considers me an "older family member, " already.
drjim
Well well well.....Web Mom, it looks like Web Son is doing all in his power to repair the world's computer ills these days!! Could there be a "Doctor PC" corporate dream being unveiled with each passing day? Sure enough, all of those memories of Web Son past, taking apart and reapplying devices, assorted pieces of cardboard, aluminum foil, various hard drives, and finally ... after reattaching everything with a Roosevelt dime in low light conditions, voila! In goes a computer disc marked in black Sharpie ink something like "W 07", a few clicks here, a couple of clacks there... and a laptop that THREE other professionals declared d-e-a-d arose like an electronic Lazarus from behind a veritable jungle of wires, cords, high towers, computer chip-boards and whathaveyou. AND IT'S ALL CAPTURED ON TAPE!!!! I have proof that he is the genius that can save - well ... I don't know exactly what he can save just yet - but that is simply all the additional fun that he is providing for us for years and years to come! Imagine that....
  I agree with everything you have said about my "baby." He is a genius -- takes after his Web-Mom, I guess.
Joy 
Hilarious, as usual, WW. Thanks for the laughs. 
Those fake Microsoft people must love our voices. I have been getting calls from them for about maybe two years. A few weeks ago, my husband told them, "You're going to jail." Did they relent? No. They upped it. Just the Wednesday your newsletter was published, I received three calls and ended yelling into the receiver, "Go away!" Now, instead of naming Microsoft, they are calling themselves "Windows Technology Center."
It's been four days since the last call and nada, But they are zombies. I am quite sure they'll breathe again and we'll hear their accented voices soon enough.
I know, Joy -- they are relentless! But they won't give up because it is profitable for them. If they were losing money, they wouldn't be heard from; they'd be onto a new scam.
 Maybe you should have a recording to play the next time they call, a real annoying one -- like "Sugar, Sugar!" That'll discourage them!
Teerich - 2019 
Well, Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ 2025 you learn something every day! I use a lot of keyboard shortcuts but had not heard of the control plus/minus before. I tried it out and I worked a treat. Thank Web-Son for that useful little wrinkle.
"You are very welcome!" That's from Web-Son. I'm happy you got something useful out of this Newsletter, Terri.
Shaziane 
I cracked up big time on those two callers at the end. You'd rather pay $150 than listen and press two buttons. And I've been in that call back situation. It never gets old when people tell you how incompetent you were before, without realizing it was you the first time....only for you to dumb down your response for them several notches due to their inability to listen and follow the instructions.
I know, it's hard to believe someone would rather pay $150 rather than follow a simple instruction. I also cracked up when my son told me about those two calls.
LJPC - the tortoise
Yes, WW, it's good that we're getting smarter phones because we're definitely getting dumber. My mother just couldn't learn to use her computer. She always made my brother come over and do it for her. She never fell for a computer scam though. There should be a special place in hell reserved for hackers and spammers. Keep up the great newsletters!
~ Laura
I agree, Laura.  Those scum-bag scammers need their comeuppance! Too many elderly have been prey to their forceful tactics.
Thanks for the feedback, Laura! 
Thanks for your feedback folks. We editors really appreciate it!
See you next month.
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Comedy: February 25, 2015 Issue [#6838]
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