"WCJ February Sweeps: The Love Issue" February 14, 2002
Yo! It's the first WCJ of 2002! Six weeks into the year, and what's different? Well, not a whole lot. It's been pretty quiet so far, but I'm fine with that. I'm complacent. I do know that most of us are glad to be rid of 2001. For me, it was a year of instability. Everything changed, both on a personal scale, and of course on a global one. We all had goals to accomplish last year? Did we do it?
I feel like '01 was a success. Not a stunning one, but a success nonetheless, simply because we got through it. Career-wise, for a year that started off with me mailing shampoo, it didn't turn out half bad. As ChairOrganism of Jeffyism, Kevin put it: "Fate isn't trying to stop us from succeeding, she's just making it inconvenient."
More eloquent words have never been spoken.
As I reflected on 2001 while I was home in Philly for the holidays, one thing hit me. It was my Aunt Mary. For a woman of 71, she packs quite a punch. Standing just under 5 feet tall, this Italian meatball filled the holiday with the sort of family fun that would make the Osbourne's run in terror.
For those of you who don't know, let me give you a brief introduction to Aunt Mary. She's my dad's older sister who, in the early 80's, found out that her eldest daughter was with child and unmarried! Aunt Mary was disgraced. She felt cheated, so she went to the college that both my cousin and her boyfriend attended. Aunt Mary found him and inquired, "Are you gonna marry my daughter?"
During your life, there are always one or two moments where you choose a path that was clearly inappropriate. For this young man, I'm willing to bet this is something he looks back on and regrets deeply. He replied, "Mind your own fucking business."
Aunt Mary, saddened, angered and hurt by his words, reached into her purse and pulled out a Kleenex. Sadly, it was masking a straight-edged razor, which she instantly introduced to the student's face, thus carving her revenge, and etching her nickname into the history books: Aunt Mary--The Blade.
Details are sketchy, but one might conclude that telling Aunt Mary The Blade to fuck off was probably the wrong way to go for him.
But twenty years have passed and she's the sweetest old lady now. (Jail does that to you, I suppose.) Just after Christmas, she came over to our house for a visit, bringing lots of homemade cookies (baked with love!) and loads of holiday stories from her family's big celebration, where each year she cooks for her kids, in-laws, and grandkids (legitimate and otherwise, cuz that's just the kind of gal she is!) This is certainly no small task, since we're Italian, which means there are hundreds of delectable plates spread out over miles of land. It takes a fortnight to prepare The Blade's celebrations, and twice as long to eat them. You've seen the Sopranos...we take our food very seriously. So if anything should go awry, Aunt Mary takes it very personally.
Aunt Mary starts telling the story of how this "Pathetic Piece of Shit" (her son's mother-in-law) has "a fit or a stroke or some shit every year and ruins Christmas." Last year, it seems that this frail old woman had a mild stroke just before Christmas dinner, which put a damper on the holiday. Of course, Aunt Mary The Blade isn't one to hold grudges. So this year, she's pissed about something different:
This year, the Pathetic Piece of Shit was at it again, this time choking on a piece of meat during dinner forcing them to call the Christmas Paramedics.
Actually, according to Aunt Mary, "I think she pretended to choke on it at first, but then she really did start to choke. I thought it was really the end this time...but the bitch pulled through. She ruined everyone's Christmas dinner! Nobody wanted to eat after that." She quickly added... "I'm a very tender person, you know."
It was great to see the family, and while home, I also got to visit all the pals I left behind in Philly. I realized that there is nothing quite like the people who knew you while you were growing up. For example...the night I flew home, I was trudging through the airport, tired and weary. I was trying to hurry down to the luggage claim area, so I could be one of the first people to be waiting for my bags for an hour. (My travel motto: Hurry up & Wait!) As I made my way through the terminal, I brushed by a distinguished looking gentleman in a dark suit & sunglasses, holding up a name placard. "Bloody bastards with limos," I thought as I scuttled by.
Then I hear "You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?" I thought "Ohmygod, did I heckle him out loud?" I kept going, too frightened to make eye contact with the well-dressed stranger. "Jeff!" he shouts. I look back and realize that's no distinguished gentleman! That's Kevin! (of Kevin's Korner fame!) holding a sign that reads "Councilman Nucera."
Brilliantly executed. He (accompanied by Dave & Tracie) whisked me away to a party thrown by WCJ Executive Producer, Sean Quinn, where I promptly became too exhausted from my travels to really interact with anyone coherently.
But it was a good time, as it always is when I get to see the friends who know exactly how to make me laugh without even putting up an effort. It made me a little sad that I don't get to see them that often...but only for a moment, since it was freezing out, and I didn't want to cry little ice cube tears. Besides, the cast of West Coast Jeff in Hollywood are an amazing group of people, too.
After I flew back to sunny LA, they all helped me celebrate another holiday: My Birthday Attack. This year, the cast of West Coast Jeff went completely overboard and threw a giant surprise talent show, hosted by Chafing Amy!
The show featured StoryLori and Amy singing songs that they had written, with Lori's boyfriend Bill on guitar. The hit of the night was an actual THEME for West Coast Jeff! (A recording coming soon!)
My mind was already blown after the first song. Then LucasKeith stood up and read a straight-from-the-heart poem about West Coast Jeff. Amazing. We'll be posting it soon on the website, so keep your eye out!
After the poem, I was completely speechless. (Believe it or not.) THEN, Amy, MichaelHead and BradleyHead performed a sock-puppet show about my dating life. It lasted about 4 and a half minutes and covered everything with remarkable detail.
As if I wasn't wrecked enough, everyone then presented me with official WCJ License Plates! Incredible! See them here at http://www.pond.com/~uhjeff/wcjcar.html
My face bright red, my jaw agape, my mind reeling from all the creativity. . .I didn't know what to do. I almost broke down and wept openly. I was completely awe-struck. These people touched me in such a special way, they made my heart grow three sizes that day! And, making my stomach grow three sizes, was the cake that GoateeGreg & Rachel provided.
More songs were sung, including a tribute to the Chlamydia Futon, which met its demise soon after. Yes, a WCJ fixture for many years, the Chlamydia Futon is no more. The metal framework began to rot away, presumably from the mysterious funk that was on the mattress. I did find a taker for the mattress, though: Poor, unsuspecting ChrisHaig.com! ( http://www.pond.com/~uhjeff/chrish aigdotcom.html)
To fill the hole left in my living room, I called in an expert hole-filler: Tony the Wacky Neighbor! As he was in the middle of his umpteenth roommate upheaval, he had an extra love-seat that he bequeathed to the cause. We'll see what kinds of stories come out of this thing.
With all the giving my friends did, I feel like I can love again. But I can't, because it's Valentine's day. To celebrate, Kevin Kibble, Spider-Dan and I did some research and found that Necco has come up with a new candy for people like us: Conversation Broken-Hearts. Based on their century-old Valentine tradition, the Conversation Hearts that we all grew up enjoying now feature less-than-sweet messages with the same great Necco taste you've grown to love and expect. Preview them here: http://www.pond.com/~uhjeff/vd.html
And, lest I forget...it's February sweeps! And what good is that without Celebrity Sightings!
Bill Nye, the Science Guy stopped by The Osbournes production offices last week to visit with my boss, Jeff, and to take him for a ride in his electric car! Their fun-filled journey was educational and entertaining, as Bill extolled the virtues of the electric car and taught Jeff how it works, much like he did in his now defunct series. I suspect that if he doesn't keep educating people (even if it is one at a time), he'll cease to exist. FYI, he was wearing his bow-tie.
Also stopping by the production office...Jan Brady from the Brady Bunch movies! (NOT the TV show). She was visiting my co-worker, who played Alice in the movies. It was all I could do to resist screaming "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!" I respectfully held back and simply went back to work, following my strict schedule, which I have outlined here:
8:15AM: Alarm goes off. This repeats every 9 minutes until 9:45, when it is beyond all hope that I will be in on time.
10AM, my desk sits empty, quietly awaiting my arrival.
10:45AM (Give or take 15 minutes) I arrive in a panic, momentarily forgetting that my boss doesn't notice if I'm there or not. (His "Who Cares if you Live Or Die?" approach to his employees is really working to my advantage.)
11AM: Computer is fired up, as I heat up some oatmeal. (French Vanilla is my favorite, but I'll settle for Cinnamon Roll)
11:05: I'll check the voice mail, if there is any, which takes several seconds out of my day. I'll also check my boss' e-mail for him and print out the important ones. If I've got extra time to spare, I'll highlight them.
11:09: AOL Instant Messenger, here I come.
1PM: Lunchtime!
3PM: Back to work!
The rest of the day is spent wandering around the office, making people feel generally uncomfortable, and keeping them from seeing my boss by waving my arms shouting my battle-cry: "Mr. Stilson is VERY busy!"
7PM: Time to go home, per executive mandate. Yes, my job is in danger if I stay past 7...it's an actual rule that Stilson himself created and insists upon.
So, during my 8 hour day, about 4 minutes of it is spent doing actual work. Luckily, I'll be here till the end of April. My old boss and co-workers have been calling me, heckling me, giving me guff about how I used to do work, and now I am ruined.
I'd react to them, but I'm too busy being a Vigilant American Citizen. You know how we're all supposed to be on alert for anything "out of the ordinary," and how we're supposed to report suspicious activities to local law enforcement agencies? Well, I for one would be on the phone with the CIA every fifteen minutes if that was the case. And you've seen my stressful workday, there just is no time for that.
But there was an instance that really did concern me a few weeks back. I was driving leisurely to work, on a side street, when I noticed two guys riding bicycles next to each other. The weird thing was that it was a bicycle plane...like the kind that you see in old stock-footage reels. Not flapping wings, just wide wings perched precariously on top of their adjoined cycles. They certainly weren't going fast enough to take off and crash into something, but it unnerved me anyway.
And while I'm on the subject of useless terrorists, let me just go on record here and tell you that I believe that this sudden pop-culture resurgence of Alf is directly related to some terrorist organization. They are a dangerous association that we can not dismiss as a harmless group that adores alien puppets. Is it a coincidence that Alf, who for years concealed himself in the Tanner's home from the very government Bin Laden is hiding from, is suddenly back as a pitchman for 10-10-220? The timing is just too perfect.
Let this be a warning: If you call anyone using 10-10-220, there is a real danger that your calls may be routed through various terrorists in the Alf-Qaeda Network, who will use the information they gather to learn what Americans fear the most, and infiltrate us! If 10-10-200 is really so safe, why don't you see anyone in the White House using it? Does George W. call Jeb dialing 10-10-220? Highly unlikely. Ninety-Nine cents for up to 20 minutes may sound like a value, but at what cost to our nation's security? In the name of Tom Ridge, be aware, be vigilant, and be alert. Protect yourself...Fight Alf Revivalism!
Now that I have caught you up, and warned you against life- threatening puppets, let me finish off with some Public Service Announcements.
Okbye
