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Don't badmouth the boy They Must Be ProudBy Rick Horowitz At Poppy's Place, it's Poppy who makes sure the coffee's hot and the beer is cold, who greets everyone the second they come through the door. Bar mostly stays out back, in the kitchen, turning out the blue-plate specials. And the pies. Everyone loves Bar's pies. You want to get a smile out of Bar -- you want her to come out front with a twinkle in her eyes and a great big grin on her face -- you say something nice about her pies. You want to see her other side, you say something not-so-nice about her boy. That's where the visitors slip up. You can talk
pies at Poppy's Place, or baseball, or the weather, or pretty much anything
else that's on your mind. But if you know what's good for you, you'll
stay clear of the boy. Everyone knows that Poppy and Bar have got that son of theirs back in Washington, running things. Some folks like the way he's running things. Some folks don't especially care for it. Some folks think it's even worse than that. The regulars know to keep it to themselves, whichever they think. The visitors, though -- sometimes they can't help themselves. That's when there's trouble. "How's that boy of yours?" If Bar's in a particularly good mood (or if she's out of earshot), sometimes they can get away with one like that. Poppy'll say "Fine," and maybe shrug his shoulders a little, and that'll be the end of it. He'll figure it for an innocent question from somebody who doesn't know any better, and he'll let it pass. But if it goes even a dot further than that -- if instead of "How's that boy of yours?" it comes out "What's with that boy of yours?" -- well, then they're in it, and good luck getting out of it. And Lord help them if they say something that goes any further than that. "Your boy ever gonna finish that war of his?" "Your boy still stuck down in the 20s?" "Your boy still listening to Cheney?" Then it's a good thing they've got those unbreakable dishes, because Bar'll be out front in a flash, and it won't be pretty. Won't be pretty at all. Like yesterday, for instance, right around lunchtime, when this fella looks up from his tuna melt and his newspaper and he says to Poppy, "This offshore drilling thing your boy's getting rid of -- didn't you put that in there in the first place?" You could have heard a pin drop. That was the first second. The next second, here comes Bar, and she's pointing to the door and she's screaming, "Out!" "Out!" And even Poppy, who hardly ever gets angry, he says it too. "Out." This fella tries apologizing, but Bar's already grabbed his plate and shoveled it into the trash. He tries to pay, at least for the half of the tuna melt he got to eat, but Poppy just waves him off. The regulars watch it all, and nobody says a word. It's not like Poppy and Bar don't know all about the war, or the awful poll numbers, or even about Cheney. It's not like they don't know about everything Poppy did back when he was running things that their boy is managing to undo. But talking about it? What's the good of that? The regulars understand. Posted 7/17/08. Make
sure your friends are regulars at "Rick's" -- they'll thank you!
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Rick Horowitz
