ASK MR. MOTZKO
Dear Mr. Motzko,
One of my friends recently asked me a somewhat troubling question. It was a ‘would you rather’ question. It was so astonishing, that after they asked me, I passed out in a state of wild confusion. “Would you rather go to the moon with only a toothpick and a Snapple or mooch your way through Ancient Romania with only a bandanna and a Sprite?” How would you have handled this?
Sincerely,
I Would Rather Not Relate the Rest of This Story
Hello Dali!
Dude, shut off the gas because there’s obviously a leak in your house. Something has apparently gone and befouled your stream of consciousness and now this Lorax is pounding on your door. Is this some kind of trick question akin to “Who is buried in Grant’s Tomb?” because I’m here to tell you that the estate of Cary Grant was not amused at all with my attempt to figure that one out. Some people have no sense of wonder.
As it is currently 75% off the holiday season and priced to move, I’m going to go easy on you. While I give your question a 3 for danceability, it gets an 8 for originality. Usually the tired inquiries that accumulate in my inbox like so much literary guano are as worn out as the grooves on my 1971 copy of Grand Funk Railroad’s “E Pluribus Funk”. Have I become so jaded in my ivory tower (which already violates at least 14 Deerfield zoning ordinances) that I no longer remember that somewhere somebody lies awake needing to know how many pancakes it takes to shingle a doghouse? Four, gentle reader, assuming they have no bones.
So back to your original question; if I had to go to the moon, it would be lashed to the hood of a monkey-dung brown ’74 El Camino captained by the ghost of Evel Knievel, his disembodied hand jamming a gearshift made from the shrunken head of Bob Saget.
Does anybody have the phone number for NASA? They owe me large.
