Dick Wolfsie
After I finished a game of pickleball the other day, a woman approached me and asked if she could give me a hug. I glanced at her husband who nodded approval of her intended gesture.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“I read your column every week and I just think you are the most self-deprecating guy in the world.”
“Thanks,” I said, cautiously. I assumed and hoped that was a compliment. She went on to say—and rightly so—that the best humor is when you make fun of yourself. Of course, I also skewer my wife, but most of the barbs I write are directed at me.
I thanked her for reading my column, not realizing that my ability to self-deprecate would soon be put to the ultimate test.
Last night I was trying to figure out how to download podcasts. That way, I wouldn’t have to pay for data if I listened to them while out jogging. My sister, who is very patient with me, had already spent about 20 minutes on the phone the previous week explaining the process, but I had forgotten everything she told me. I had no clue how to do it.
Linda’s son, Barry, is a computer wiz, so I assumed that some of his savvy had rubbed off on her. Of course, the rubbing should go in the other direction: your kids don’t rub off on you, you are supposed to rub off on them. In any case, compared to her son, Linda was out of her league when it came to computers.
Nevertheless, she proceeded to explain everything to me again. She suggested I take notes this time, to lessen the chances I’d pester her a third time during her California vacation with the family.
Half an hour later I finally had the process down pat. “Thanks, Linda,” I said, and I shut off the phone. Or so I thought. And my sister made the identical mistake. I could still hear her talking to her son and daughter-in-law.
“How’s Uncle Dick?” asked Barry.
“Oh, he’s fine. But let me tell you something: if you ever want to stop feeling stupid, talk to someone stupider.”
Yes, that’s what she said. My own flesh and blood…whom I love dearly, and thought she cared for and respected me. I wasn’t going to take this lying down. But I did. I fell on the floor laughing. I understood exactly what she meant. I also knew this had potential for a column and I remembered what that woman said to me at the pickleball courts. Self-deprecation! Self-deprecation!
How would I respond to this moment? Well, first I called Linda back and told her that I heard exactly what she said to Barry. At that point Linda began laughing hysterically. I guess that was her way of apologizing.
After we hung up, I realized I wasn’t finished milking this situation, so I sent her this text: “Linda, like you, I would like to feel smarter by talking to someone dumber than me. The problem is that right now I can’t think of anyone I could call.”
Be warned, dear reader: if you ever see my name on your caller ID, consider why I might be trying to reach you.
Television personality Dick Wolfsie writes columns for The Daily Reporter. Send comments to [email protected].
