Category Archives: Conversations on the Porch

They usually start there, often end up there, or… take place in the kitchen.

Whaddaya mean, “You people?”

Tropic Thunder 3, by Deadly x Design on Flickr

We’re home now, just got back from NJsux, 11 PM out on the porch. Gorgeous full moon.

Nitram: The sky is so bright! Looka those clouds.

Me: Yeah. The moon looks so cool! It looked really cool in New Jersey, though, when it first came up.

Nitram: Yeah.

Me: It was HA-YOOJ.

Nitram: Yeah.

Me: It looked like cheese.

Nitram (laughing): …Cheese. You’re like cheese.

Me: I’m like Vietnam. (When it’s a hot and humid New England summer night, he always says, “It’s like Vietnam out here!”)

Nitram: *laughing*

Me: People say weird shit.

Nitram: What people, yooooou people?

Me (channeling RDJ in Tropic Thunder): Whaddaya mean, “You people?”

Nitram: *laughing*

Me: That was pretty good, huh?

Nitram: Yes, yes it was. You, you — you people, you.

Me (channeling Brandon T. Jackson): What do you mean, “You people?!”

Nitram: I gotta go in!

Me: Can’t take it?

Nitram: No, it’s chilly out here, I need more clothes.

Me: Whaddaya mean, “More clothes?”

Nitram (hiding behind kitchen door): You crack yourself up, don’t you?

Me: I kill me!

Man, it’s good to be home.

Junk


It’s freezing out on the porch tonight.

Nitram is doing his dance. When he gets cold out on the porch, he does something no sane person should do: stands away from the wall, right in the path of the wind, rocks from side to side with his legs all stiff and slightly spread.

Hey, if I was a guy, I would not let my junk get in the wind like that. But guy or girl, you’ve got to have some sense when you’re out on the porch in November and it’s not much above 20 degrees and really windy: you stand next to the wall, hunker down in all your layers of coats and sweats and slippers, and DO NOT SPREAD YOUR LEGS.

Common sense, c’mon. When you’re cold, you do not open your most vulnerable areas to the biting, chilling wind.

Me: The fuck’re you doing? That dance. How can that help?
Nitram: The cops get told to stamp their feet when they’re on patrol in winter.
Me: Stamping your feet is one thing, airing your junk is another.
Nitram: Airing your…. what? What??
Me: You’re exposing your package to the elements! Do like I do! Stand and shiver!
Nitram: You’re crazy.
Me: Right, I’m crazy. I’m not the one letting my danglies catch the winter breeze.
Nitram: This keeps me warm.
Me: Oh really. If you’re so warm, how come you’re the one miserable out here and I’m the one all toasty. Ya gotta protect the jewels.
Nitram: You don’t have any jewels!
Me: I do too! They’re just all tucked away, nice and safe and warm like they’re supposed to be. You don’t see me airing my cooze to the wind.
Nitram: I am not airing, I’m trying to keep warm!
Me: Put your legs together!
Nitram: No!
Me: Hey…
Nitram: Oh jeeze…
Me: No really. So if you put your legs together, wouldn’t that shield everything?
Nitram: garrrrrrrrrr
Me: What. Well, you know how guys sit.
Nitram: How do guys sit?
Me (spreads legs wide, semi-squats, trying to make like Bubba): You know, like this, with all their stuff all exposed and shit.
Nitram: And shit.
Me (straightens up, closing legs to protect the good stuff): Damn, that’s cold. Hey, what happens to your junk when you sit like that? I guess it all falls down.
Nitram (chokes on beer): WHAT. It does not… what??
Me: You know, if you sit like Bubba, first it’s in the front — I guess — and if you spread your legs, it all… flops onto the seat, the chair?
Nitram: I gotta go inside.
Me: No, wait, what happens?
Nitram: It does not… it doesn’t flop anywhere… oh Jesus Christ.
Me: Come on, tell me. What happens? Where do your ghoolies go?
Nitram: Nothing happens!
Me: Doesn’t it have to go somewhere…?
Nitram: No!
Me: Well, show me.
Nitram: No!
Me: Well, shit. How will I ever I ever know?
Nitram: Why don’t you get Neal to show you. You two are always talking about gross things.
Me: I don’t want to see Neal’s junk! I always see yours, why won’t you show me how you sit!
Nitram: I’m going in.
Me: I’d show you how I sit.
Nitram: I’m going in.

Oh, sure, that’s right: when in the wrong, or intimidated — or when your junk is cold — retreat.

But DO NOT SPREAD YOUR LEGS.

Making Wind


Nitram: Boy, you sure were hootin’ a lot last night.
Me: It’s your fault.
Nitram: How is it my fault! I wasn’t—
Me (making arm motions like I’m shaking out a big sheet): You came in and went!
Nitram: But I wasn’t—
Me: I swear! It’s your fault. You make wind when you get in and let the cold air in and wake me up.
Nitram: But I wasn’t even IN THE ROOM.
Me (*blink* *blink*): Oh. Well. It’s still your fault.
Nitram: Oh, okay.
Me: Yeah, I was pre-hooting. For when you come in and— *waves arms around again, hoots*
Nitram: You’re crazy. *hoots back at me*

*both of us stand in the kitchen, waving our arms and hooting at each other*

Nitram: It was so loud.
Me: You could hear me from the other room?
Nitram: Yeah. *squinting and acting like a freak* aiee yay yi yi.
Me: Then it’s definitely your fault!
Nitram: How!?
Me: If you could hear me from the other room, it means I must have been having a nightmare, and you should have come in and pet my head.
Nitram: But, but — you would hit me like you always do when you’re asleep!
Me: *SMACK*
Nitram: Hey!
Me: *zzzzzzzzzzz*
Nitram: Oh, right.
Me (at the stove): Damn, these turnips are taking forever.
Nitram: I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better next time.
Me: What?
Nitram: Because it’s obviously my fault that the turnips are taking forever to cook.
Me: That’s right.

*we start hooting and waving our arms at each other again*

Nitram (cracking himself up): The best one…! This is the best one… *squints, bends over like an old man, wrinkles nose, shuffles across the kitchen, makes noise like a goose farting* hhhennnhhhhhhh… henhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Me: *collapsing onto chair laughing, falling right off it onto floor, laughing harder*
Nitram (pointing): Hahaha!
Me: Oww! It’s your fault!
Nitram (on the way out the door to volleyball): I HAVE TO GO NOW.

We kiss, making stupid hooting and croaking noises, and he shuffles out onto the porch in the old man stance, squinting and honking loudly. From across the drive I hear Tim, the neighbor: “Hi, Nitram!”

Hahaha! Tim must have thought… what? Or maybe he’d had enough beers that it didn’t matter.