by John
Feb 28, 2005 03:29
Rob Reiner is in the news for reasons other than his days as Meathead. I have nicknamed him Egghead. Yet, there is a disconnect in the two nicknames. You see, Meathead was a reflection of his character on "All in the Family." Meathead was a few sandwiches short of a Turner Family Picnic. To be certain, his head wasn't shaped like a slab of cow or a pork chop. When I label him Egghead, don't put him in the same category as Bill Gates, Stephen Hawking, or Cher. I mean to say his head has morphed into the shape of an enclosed chicken fetus. Yes, this man has the perfect egg-shaped head. Let me explain how I arrived at this conclusion.
I was walking out of work recently to catch the bus. (As the Onion notes, public transportation is for poor people.) I cross the street and make a snide remark about a dark Crown Vic parked in the middle of a crosswalk. (Stars don't need our laws. Besides, pavement is only good if they can imprint their grease paws in it.) Then, about fifteen paces out, a giant egg floats by attached to a slightly bloated blue suit. Sweet Moses, that egg and suit is Marty fucking DiBergi!
Quick John, think of something. "Hey, this sidewalk goes to eleven!" or "Those were the days, am I right, Bobby?" No, these would have been marginally clever.
Instead ...
"Wow, his head really looked like an egg."
Stunning. I guess I was beside myself. It wasn't the first time. One day, while taking poor man's transit, I glanced out the window to catch an eyeful of Jeff Van Gundy. Yes, the Jeff Van Gundy. A man who constantly looks like someone just handed him divorce papers. Or, after a hard day of work, his dog doodied on the carpet before his eyes.
"Hey, that's Jeff Van Gundy!" I said. Yes, really. With excitement. Brilliant! Anyone within earshot was confused and taken aback. It was like yelling "Hey, that's Ernest Borgnine!" to a class of 3rd graders.
Why would Ernest be around an elementary school anyway? Maybe to drop off a great granddaughter. Or perhaps his relatives were parading his corpse through town. Or maybe, just maybe, he had a Code Brown in his trousers and needed the nearest washroom.
That's my take on an egg, a divorcee, and Ernie. Hey, everyone; shit sandwiches on Rob!