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The FU Files: The NHD&SC

by Jason Edwards

Here at Wiffli we like anagrams. I think that’s what they’re called. Those things where the initials of a phrase spell out a word? I’d look it up, but I’m going to depend instead on my shoddy memory and that English degree I got sixteen years ago. I hear they just found a way to predict Alzheimer’s 25 years in advance. Wait, what was I talking about? No, the other thing. Anagrams, we like anagrams, Wiffli is an anagram itself. Calling this The FU Files isn’t really an anagram, but the good news is, you can probably figure out what FU stands for.

I like it also, calling this The FU Files, because it sort of sounds like “The Rockford Files.” Do you remember that show? I do, and I did, sort of vaguely, a while ago when I went on Netlfix or Hulu or iTunes or Comcast On Demand to look for it. I mean, Alzheimer’s, who cares? Who needs a good memory when we have all these ways to watch old TV shows? And I did find it, and I watched the first episode. It was cheesy and slow, but it had a pretty good detective story plot, and Lindsay Wagner was in it, and she was kinda hot in that if-I-was-in-the-seventies/lip gloss kind of way. Well, I mean, I was in the seventies, for the first nine years of my life, but I wasn’t in to Lindsay Wagner back then; I was in to Luke Skywalker.

Not in that way! What was I talking about? Oh, right, The FU Files. And that also sounds like The Federovich File, a novel by one of my all-time favorite mystery novelists, Ross H. Spencer. The sad thing is that these FU files, unlike Rockford’s and Spencer’s Federovich one, have nothing to do with mystery stories. Also sad: Ross H. Spencer is dead. Old age. It happens.

No, these FU files are about things that make me mad, mad enough to say Eff You, Thing That Makes Me Mad! But before I get into it, one more introductory thing: my wife loves me. No, really, she does. She went on a trip without me recently and brought back a copy of Spirit Magazine, the free one you get in-flight on Southwest Airlines. She knows I like to do the crossword puzzle in there. I like to see if I can get the “easy” one done before we take off and the “hard” one done before we land. Is it bragging if I tell you how many times I’ve even finished the hard one before we take off? Yes it is. So what. Lots. (It’s really not that hard—about as hard as a Tuesday New York Times crossword).

In this month’s issue, there’ a series of one-page “facts,” with associated commentary, like “Nearly 33 million Americans live alone” (I wonder if that includes homeless people) and “A female flea consumes 15 times her weight in blood daily” (insert insensitive Twilight/Oprah joke here) and this one, which made me mad: “The ballpark franks we’ll eat this year would round the bases 28,489 times if set end-to-end.”

Actually, it’s not the fact itself that cheeves me off. If folks want to force us, as a country, to regurgitate all the hotdogs we ate at ballparks, reconstitute them, lay them end to end, and count the number of times it goes round the bases, fine. I live in Seattle, and I watch the Mariners, so I rarely get to see anything go round the bases.

No, it was the part where they quoted the spokesman for the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council, who said “Never ever put ketchup on a hot dog after the age of 18” (emphasis his). To which I reply: “Eff You, Spokesperson for the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council. I am an effing American. I can do whatever the eff I want, especially (emphasis mine) when it comes to something as stupidly unimportant as an effing hot dog. Eff You, and the smug little horse you effing rode in on.” I’ll bet he lives alone. And has fleas. Big fat bloody ones.

So, anyway, thanks for staying with me through this inaugural edition of The FU Files. I’m going to go do those crossword puzzles now. 15 across, 10 letters, starts with the letter ‘A’ : “Degenerative disease of the mind.”

Any thoughts?

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