If There Was a Problem, Yo
I'd probably make it worse
Lately I’ve been on some kind of savior kick. I don’t mean that in the Jesus sense, because that’s like next level even with a pope from Chicago. I mean it more in the animated rodent sense.
Sidenote: It took me until 2005 until I realized how funny the Andy Kauffman video is.
One way I’ve been doing this is by buying plants from the clearance section. These are the half-dead hibiscus and aloe and rose bushes and fruit trees that look like they’ve barely survived a nuclear winter. They’re usually shoved in a back corner, far away from the thriving show off plants. “Oooh,” I think standing in front of a pot of something that used to be green and now needs either CPR or a mercy smothering with a feather pillow. “It’s only $1.99! I can save you, little buddy! Come home with me! The Volvo awaits!”
Once my new baby is safe and secure in my Backyard Garden/Mosquito Plato’s Retreat, I carefully transfer it to a nicer pot, pull off the dead leaves, and even sprinkle a little plant food on the dirt in case it gets snacky. (I don’t know how plants eat.) Then over the next week, I monitor it closely and do whatever is in my power as a person that thinks they have a green thumb because they read a lot of Little House on the Prairie knows how to do to keep it alive.
So far, with my dedication, devotion, care and feeding, and of course a healthy dose of unconditional love, Wendi’s Botanical Rehabilitation and Recovery Center has saved — exactly zero plants. They might even be dying faster than they would on the For Sale Cheap shelf. It’s almost like these assholes are making a choice.
I’ve had slightly better luck saving humans this summer. Well, one human. My friend Amanda threw a party for 35 women lawyers at her house a couple of weeks ago, and asked me to give a talk about I’m Wearing Tunics Now. I know, really nice of her. But when I got to her house, she was lying on her bed in intense pain due to a medical issue of hers that pops up from time to time. Some of her co-hosts kept checking on her, asking if they could help, but she directed them to go back to the kitchen to get all of the party refreshments ready.
Since I had zero interest in arranging melon prosciutto, and because I was worried for my friend, I stayed by her side and took care of her. I made sure her feet were elevated, and that she had a cold compress on her forehead, sips of water, and then when a wave of pain would hit, I’d give her my hand to squeeze and gave her this top-notch medical advice:
“Breathe in through the mouth and out through the nose. INNNNNNNN OUUUUTTTTT. Wait. It might be the other way around. Breathe out through the mouth and in through the nose. INNNNNNNN OUUUUTTTTT. Huh, that doesn’t seem right, either. Let’s go back to the mouth again.”
To which she replied, through the fog of her pain: “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO ME.”
Anyone that’s read my middle-grade book GINGER MANCINO, KID COMEDIAN will remember that this breathing confusion is a running joke in the story because Ginger can never remember how to breathe, but guess what? Not fiction, friends. (Also, I have copies of this delightful book that’s perfect for 8-12 year old kids, and I’m happy to sell you one and mail it for $12. Just let me know if you’d like one or 10!)
Before too long, Amanda started feeling better and she got up and greeted her guests and was the perfect host, like always. Later, her sister said, “Thank goodness that blonde doctor showed up and took charge!” To which Amanda said, “Wendi? She’s no doctor. She’s a bossy humor writer.” I mean, she could have at least given me a day or two of being a sham MD. That’s not too much to ask. Maybe I could head up a national agency or something.
As for what or who else I’ll gloriously save this summer? I’m not sure. There’s a 90% dead begonia at the grocery store that I’ve had my eye on for a few days. Maybe I’ll bring it home and teach it how to breathe the wrong way.
Thanks for reading!
—Wendi
OTHER THINGS:
Well, one other thing. My friend ALI SOLOMON and I created this fun piece for McSweeneys and we would love if you click over to read and share it!
HOW GEN X CAN MAKE MONEY IN THIS ECONOMY
The ailing plants at the grocery store and big box store cannot be saved. They will break your heart EVERY TIME!
I just crossed myself and I’m not even Christian.