I’m a Hurdy-Gurdy Girl in a Crab Show World

Apparently, I’ve angered the lace knitting gods. The Stoli**, my knitting, the chart pattern, the mathematics, the placement of the stars, Uranus in retrograde and I are no longer in sync. Okay, forget about my anus. But still, I can’t get past the first 4 lines of the chart for clue 3. I started last night while the kids were playing before bed. I was alone, I was uninterrupted, I was appropriately caffeinated, and I couldn’t make the stitches and numbers work. After 2 and a half hours of knitting, tinking*, knitting, cursing, tinking, counting, cursing some more, recounting, tinking, double-checking my math, taking deep breathing, and knitting, I was only on the third line of the chart, and I was ready to commit hari-kari or throw the knitting at the wall. I opted instead to go read some email.

I’m glad I did.

I received an email from Dr. Lucy, who told me she was reading the blog, but for the life of her couldn’t figure out the hurdy gurdy I made. I about peed my pants from laughing so hard, and woke up Thing 2 (MUC) in the process. The really sad part is I didn’t have to think for an instant what she was talking about. I knew immediately she was referring to this. As I giggled and chuckled my way through some surfing, I started thinking about the language my family and friends use, and the way we process. Maybe everyone does this, and I don’t know it, or maybe me and mine are just a bunch of weirdos. My family and friends have an alarming tendency to use euphemisms that are incomprehensible to the outside world.

Case in point #1: The Chicken Store

My kids have an exceptional gift for understatement. There was a time when I was going through a bad patch, Nec was working at lot, and the kids still required feeding. Enter Zaxby’s, which was ridiculously close to my house. The food is good, you can get extra fries, and I like their honey mustard sauce, so it was a winner all around. So, there was a time when we were eating Zaxby’s two or three times a week. In front of our local store is a sign that looks like this:

My kids have never been inside, since there is a ‘drive-thru’ type feature, but they knew the building and the sign. I knew it was time to find a new place to eat when I hear from the backseat, “But, Mommie, we don’t want Chicken Store tonight.”

After that night, every time we would drive by and the kids would see the sign (or a Zaxs sign anywhere), the kids would yell, “There’s a Chicken Store.”

Thus, it’s been “The Chicken Store” in this house ever since.

Case in point #2: The Crab Show.

Dr Lucy, on some occasion that probably included copious amounts of alcohol, asked Sarge and me if our respective spouses watched “The Crab Show”. Without thinking, blinking or nodding, both of us answered with a resounding, “Hell, yes!” What, you may ask, is “The Crab Show”? It’s a Discovery Channel show whose ‘real’ title is The Deadliest Catch. It’s all about crab fishing off the Alaskan coast. Total man show, and apparently very popular with the husband crowd. Dr. Lucy swears she has witnessed man-tears from Mahcus over The Crab Show, and I can say with all authority that Necropolis can tell you the names of all the boats ships as well as which hairy, unwashed dude captain goes with.

In conversation on the way to the mountains, I relayed Dr. Lucy’s new term to Necropolis, at which he burst out laughing. I really gave it no more thought, since it was more a mention in passing than a discussion and dissection. One evening later in the week, Nec’s playing some computer game, I’m knitting The Stoli (successfully at this point), the kids are all nestled, and the TV is on as background noise. Suddenly, Nec pops up.

“Turn the channel.”

Me: “To what? I’m watching Law and Order, Criminal Intent.”

“You’ve seen this one. I’ve seen this one. Ice Truckers is on.”

“Ice Truckers? You’ve GOT to be kidding me. I’m watching Chris Noth here.”

“Nope, it’s about these truckers who drive over iced-over lakes in Canada. It’s not as good as “The Crab Show” though.”

I about choked when I heard that, and promptly got online to email Dr. Lucy about her influence.

Just to let you know....your influence is far and wide.

Nec now refers to 'that program' as The Crab Show in conversation.

The response I received:

Yay! Don't feel left out - we had The Chicken Store for dinner last week.

* Tinking - Tink is "knit" backwards and also the sound the needles make clicking against each other as you take out your knitting one stitch at a time.

** The Stoli – my MS3 thus christened, since it’s takes a liberal pour in my OJ to keep from throwing the thing in the trash.