The Daily Ridiculous

I’m not going to say that this particular Wednesday is a big deal…But it totally is.  It’s the first of a two-part Daily Ridiculous special called:  

“Silver Fox Hunt ‘09″

And it’s about as creepy as Anna Nicole Smith at a Sheepshead convention! (still too soon?)

As I told you folks that had emailed regarding the Tom Brokaw Thursday post of last week, I’ve been putting together a list of silver foxes for some time.  It started with my amatuer blogger days of yore, got creepier, I forgot about it for awhile, then I read Tom Brokaw’s book and started it again…got creepier still…I guess what I’m trying to say, is that it’s been awhile in the making.  And though, I, E. McBloggerton of the Daily will never offer up information too rich of my personal life, this little ridiculous part of my heart had to be sacrificed.  Just for you, Milwaukee.  Because it’s just too right to pass up. 

For those of you who are unfamiliar, a silver fox is a man between the ages of 40-55 who is pursued by a younger woman, typically between the age of 21-30.  You could think of it as the reverse of the traditional urban cougar (older woman preying on younger man).  But creepier.  And with Dockers.  I am particularly fond of the silver fox and have been spreading my message of silver fox awareness to the ladies for years, and by god-they’ve responded! At one point, we even thought of having a “Silver Fox Awareness Week” (going to various old man bars and preying whilst in debacle-mode) complete with a fundraiser to help preservation costs of the “Silver Fox” (a giant jar we’d all throw change in for the bar tabs). But since we pretty much do that every week anyway, we decided to just call it Friday and move on.

So, after some passive nudgings by readers, I’ve finally decided to compose a list of my top silver foxes…which will run next week. Oh, I know your mouths are watering, but to prepare you for next week, today is dedicated to a list favorite who’s playing the role of the teaser for next week. Patience, young Skywalker. Patience.

Because…
You say Efferdent: I say “Effervescent!”
You say Knights of Columbus: I say “BINGO!”
You say 401k, I say: “401-oKay!”

Close to the top of my list of silver foxes that I’d like to trap is David Copperfield.

Would I like “An Intimate Evening of Grand Illusion”?  You betcha.

People, for a moment, please look beyond the ruffled shirt and furrowed stare…look further…and allow me to give you just a few stats on why David Copperfield is #3 on my Silver Fox Trap List:

-He’s age 53.  A ripe trapping age.
-His website is tight.  It makes magic-y noises when you click around.
-He’s levitated across the Grand Canyon.
-He’s really good at making contraptions to escape from, which I’m sure could translate into a very questionable fulfilling marriage.
-He’ll spare a cape if I get chilly.

Plus, everything he’s vanished, he’s put back.  And a man with morals is hard to find.  Remember when he vanished the Statue of Liberty and people flipped out?  When he put it back everyone went “Whew!” in relief…including myself. 
But, I also made mental note: This is a honest man. 

And how great would it be to be married to a magician?  I long for the dinner party where I’m in a group of women talking about their spouses and this moment happens:

Woman #1:  “Yeah, Dwayne is an accountant’s assistant at Cooper Pooper corporation.”
Woman #2:  “Frank is a plebiot…phle…phlebotanist?  I think he’s a phlebotanist.”

        “…E. McBloggerton, what does your husband do?”

Me:  “Oh, Dave?  He’s a magician.  It’s pretty great.  He’s so industrious around the  house and very entertaining at holiday parties.  He can’t fix a leaky pipe, but he can definitely appear a new one.  Oh, and he’s great with wild animals.”

Someone spills a drink at the party?  Dave has infinite scarves in his pocket.  Someone forgot their hostess gift?  Dave can time travel them back to grab it.  Now, that’s a party I wouldn’t leave early. 

I guess the smoke detector beeping might get old, but let me tell you something overall redeeming:
David Copperfield puts his pants on every day just like other men.  Except they’re magic pants.  And leather.

So, here’s how it goes down.  I get a friend to call David Copperfield and say there was a mix-up of some sort…a large American landmark has spontaneously appeared in my house and needs to be removed…I’ve accidently separated my body in two…you know, something I’d need a magician to fix.  And then when David Copperfield comes over, I do what I do best: 

Act ridiculous.

See, my strategy is to charm him with my complete lack of anything magical at all.  Clearly, this is the only magic trick I know:

And I’m about as bad at it as the kid in the video. Really.

So, I have nothing to offer as far as the whole “having things in common” category goes.  But, that’s the point!  Opposites attract and he’s probably completely bored by women who are all ‘magician-y’, and ‘cool’, and ‘coordinated’ anyway.  His sauve, dashing, mysterious persona could only be woo’d by someone who’s quirky, clumsy, and completely obvious.  Right? 

Well, Mr. Copperfield.  My name is E. McBloggerton and it’s a pleasure to meet you. 

(Cue my R&B theme…start it and read while listening…trust me)

Abracadabra…Add a little candlelight…Hocus Pocus…

Now, David Copperfield.  I know you like the magic life and all things magic-y…I know I ain’t got any powers to levitate or vanish and I can barely shuffle a deck of cards.  But you know what?  I play the piano…Aaaannnd… 

I can do magic.  (Actually, I can’t.)
One snap of your finger boy. (Snapping will only distract me.)
Yeah, I can do magic.  (Still no.)
I’ll show you a trick or two.  (Well, the rubber pencil trick counts as one, right?)
All you gotta do is dim the lights.  (..And get some books and how-to videos)

He may or may not go for the Charlie Wilson, but at least Charlie Wilson is obvious and obvious is the card I’m playing in winning over Mr. McMagicpants.  And what’s more charming than a girl who’s clearly not a magician lip-synching a R&B song about magic?  If David Copperfield has any cell of irony in his blood, his magic pants will be charmed off by this ploy.

Mr. Copperfield, clearly I’m obvious and ridiculous and can barely make a pencil wobble on a good day.  Further, I know I can’t make the clothes I’m wearing vanish or pull a dove out of my panties.  But you know who can?  You.  And I know that there are a lot of famous models out that would let you cut them in half, but how many musician-shrinks do you know with overly indulged pets?…other than Frasier?  Plus, as far as words go, magician and musician look a heck of a lot alike, and I’d be a fool not to point that out.

And I know-like we all know-that when it’s right, it’s right.  And Mr. David Copperfield, I implore you…as you continue to realize your full potential as a silver fox and you grow weary of the world of magic…

You know you can appear in my living room whenever you’re ready. 

Because you are a freaking magician.