The Idea Graveyard

According to Stephen King, creativity is the curse of expectations. Indeed. The man wrote and directed "Maximum Overdrive," people, and for that reason I believe everything he tells me.

Mr. King's adage hits home because I feel a tinge of regret for the good ideas I thought of during my tenure as a Lighter Side writer that never made it to print. Seriously, I had a few Showstoppers up my sleeve that, for whatever reason (whole world is plotting against me), were never printed in the Advance-Titan.

These ideas, which will be explained shortly, they're tortured phantoms whose initial promise was squandered by laziness and schedule conflicts. They linger in the mist of the Idea Graveyard. (More noteworthy inhabitants of the Idea Graveyard: a good health care system in America, peace in the Middle East, and the Beatles Reunion Tour, 1981.)

What follows is a somber tribute to the ideas that never really amounted to anything of substance--until now. So please join me as I pour out a 40 oz. of malt liquor onto some of the headstones in the Idea Graveyard.

The Mike Dewar Toss: Mike Dewar used to write for the Lighterside section, a few years ago. Mike D. weighs something like 140 lbs, which is about what I weigh. Nonetheless, I am amused by the sight of a short person being launched in the air somehow. And so I suggested that seven or eight members of the A-T staff pair up in teams of two to heave Mike as far as they can heave. We weren't going to toss Mike onto the cement, or a kiddie pool filled with broken Christmas ornaments or anything harsh like that. The idea was to toss him onto a thick gym mat or a sand volleyball court, which actually sound kind of fun. Mike said he'd be happy to do it.
The problem was, this idea was born just before the end of the spring 2006 semester, about a week before final exams. The Mike Dear Toss had to be postponed until fall 2006. But that was all right, or so I thought, because that gave me a whole summer to smooth out the details of the MDT.

Two staff members would sidle up on both sides of Mike, grab him by the belt and the back of his black Tool shirt, swing him three times for momentum, grunt, and then throw him "Roadhouse" bouncer-style as far they can throw. Four or five teams would compete, and the winners would become office legends and quite possibly national celebrities. (Camcorders are widespread and Youtube has glorified far worse ideas.)

UNFORTUNATELY, Mike chose to drop out of college in August of 2006, a month or so before school started. Then he contemplated moving to Canada, but never did. And after that, he posted a clip of himself on Youtube, "shredding" the hell out of a Buckethead song on "Guitar Hero." This is all true, and mostly lame.

Oh well. The important thing is that nobody got hurt. Because nobody risked injury. Namely, Mike Dewar.

The Beard vs. Mustache Wager: Nick Gumm used to be the B-section editor, and he wrote music reviews, too. In addition to editing and writing, Gumm is known for his trademark beard. One day, retired Lightersider Chris Becker refered to Gumm as "Beardo." Everyone loved the nickname, except for one person (Nick Gumm), and from then on he was called Beardo by several people in the office.

In spite of the childish insults, Beardo kept his beard, because Nick Gumm was simply Born to be Bearded. And he knows it.

Now, in regard to mustaches, I sported a mustache for nearly a month, just long enough to realize: that I can work it better than most, that most women I'm attracted to scoff at the sight of a mustache, and that sideshow experiments such as the mustache trial-run should be done only in moderation. I haven't grown out the old pushbroom since Jan. 2006. I am not Born to be Mustachioed.

Gumm has a beard similar to Paul McCartney's on the cover of "Let It Be." And I had a mustache like John Lennon's on the cover of "Sgt. Pepper." And while we're on the subject, the Two of Us are big fans of the Beatles. We agree that the Beatles are a no-brainer personal top-five band. We both know some fairly impressive trivia about the long-hairs from Liverpool, and I've sometimes wondered who knows more.

So, the idea I proposed was a Beatles trivia challenge, a showdown between two music nerds who miss the hell out of "Rock and Roll Jeopardy." And here's the clincher: if Gumm lost, he'd have to shave his thick, trademark beard. If I lost, I'd dust off the old pushbroom and rock the 'stache. Either way, our facial hair (or lack thereof), would honor the wager for a whole month.
The Beard vs. Mustache Wager never happened. I forget why, exactly, but feel free to assume it was all Beardo's fault.

Ex-Pro Wrestler Movie Review: This doozy has been rotting in the Idea Graveyard for quite some time. Let me explain. Pro wrestlers crack me up, especially when you put them in situations where you wouldn't expect to see them screaming and flexing. Sometimes I find myself wondering what retired pro-wrestlers do for a second career. The same theorizing applies to cheesey managers such as Paul Bearer, who would be hilarious as a creepy school bus driver.

In junior high, my friend Matt and I passed a notebook back and forth during History class, drawing a comic strip that depicted the antics of Hacksaw Jim Duggan and the Macho Man Randy Savage. Sometimes the duo chatted about violent guy movies (namely: "Over the Top" and "No Holds Barred"), and years later, in college, I got the idea that it would be funny to see them reviewing films, not unlike Ebert and Ropert on steroids.

A script exists for this bit, but a script without a visual counterpart is basically useless. Once upon a time I was faintly motivated to write a few phony movie reviews from the perspective of Misters Hacksaw and Macho Man. I'd better finish this one in the very near future because those incorrigible pro-wrestlers rarely live past the age of 50.

Robert Goulet Goes to Heaven: If a Will Ferrell impression has taught me nothing else, it's that semi-legendary crooner Robert Goulet was a freewheelin' cocktail fiend. Unfortunately, Goulet passed away not too long ago, and I thought it'd be nice to write him a comedic tribute. All I've jotted down for this bit are a few stage directions and some dialogue between Goulet and St. Peter. It goes something like this...

Recently deceased crooner Robert Goulet materializes in Heaven. He wears a dark suit and sunglasses, and as he inspects his bright-cloudy surroundings, he nods approvingly. Goulet approaches St. Peter just outside of the Pearly Gates.

Goulet: There's the man of the hour. So tell me, Pete, have I been naughty or nice this lifetime?

St. Peter: Ha. Yes, we've been expecting you, Mr. Goulet. Unfortunately a lot of people have died these last few minutes, but rest assured, we will call your name soon.

Goulet: Don't sweat it. Hey, while I'm waiting I could really go for a Tom Collins right about now. All that dying made me thirsty.

St. Peter: I'm sorry, alcohol is not allowed--

Goulet: Whoa! If this place doesn't have any Tom Collins, you might as well press the button for the trap-door, my friend.

St. Peter: But if you'll only let me finish, Mr. Goulet. Certain indulgences are in fact permitted in Heaven...a select few vices.

Goulet: Hey speaking of vices, you know who I always wanted to shtoop down there on planet Earth but never sealed the deal? Suzanne Somers. Is her name listed in the phone book up here?

St. Peter: Suzanne Somers won't be dead for another twenty-four years, Mr. Goulet.

Goulet: You mean, Suazane Summers is still alive? Yikes!

(End Scene.)

Yikes indeed. We just witnessed the exorcism of some harrowing comedy-ghosts, half-funny and half-scary, much like Slimer from "Ghostbusters."

Hey, maybe for "Ghostbusters 3," Slimer could grow a thick beard and join a rough-housing college frat, and there would be an asshole Dean--an evil, fun-hating ghost who enforces conformo rules that Slimer and the gang just ain't down with...

It's ideas like this that keep the Idea Graveyard decaying and thriving.