Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, September 13, 1993 TAG: 9309180310
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ben Beagle
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
I'm sure the young women who wrote this book are just as sincere as they can be, but I kind of like being a slob. I have done some research that suggests slobbism has long been a genetic trait in my family. It is my understanding that we would have had a very nice family crest if some slob of a Beagle hadn't spilled mustard all over it.
I like think there was a Beagle at the Battle of Agincourt. He would have been the one who had spilled his rations down his front and who had lost his bow and arrows.
He also might have been too hung over to help much, but you have to love him.
I recently inspected my white terrycloth katate robe and found such an interesting collection of stains on it that I'm thinking of having it bronzed in honor of slobs everywhere.
Listen, pal, you don't see slobbism carried to this height every day. I somehow managed to get coffee stains on the hem. Slobbism doesn't get any better than that.
Don't kid yourselves. There's going to be a Slobbism Hall of Fame one of these days, and my robe will get a prominent place in the museum.
Being a slob has advantages normal people merely dream of. I recently had to rent a tuxedo for my son's wedding. I looked like an overweight penguin in it, and the patent leather shoes hurt awfully.
But family members used to seeing me in my soiled shorts and the T-shirt from Oregon Inlet with the interesting paint stain thought that I looked like a British diplomat.
I was somewhat of a traitor to my class in this case, however. There was no sign of shrimp dip on the shirt and no crumbs of any kind on the coat lapels.
I hope my fellow slobs will forgive me. I don't know what got into me. Maybe it was the champagne.
There are other advantages to being a slob. And I think you ought to let everybody know you are one. Wearing an egg-stained tie to the office is a good way to do this.
Nobody is going to trust a difficult task requiring overtime to a slob. ``Better not use Chauncey,'' some nonslob will say to the boss. ``You can tell the guy's a slob. The Environmental Protection Agency is investigating his tie.''
I let everybody in my family know early on that I was a slob, and this has paid handsome dividends over the years,
Nobody has ever urged me to cook outdoors, for example, since the time I set the barbecued chicken on fire. To this day, they say: ``Don't let the old man near the grill unless you want hamburgers that look and taste like hand grenades.''
No, ladies. I have been a slob all my life and I am glad of it. Really, you spill stuff all over you all the time and everybody expects it, and pretty soon you don't have to take the responsibility for anything,
I am grateful that normal Americans believe that anybody who goes around with crumbs on his face is a slob and thus cannot be asked to do important things.
It has been years since I have been asked to select or put up the Christmas tree - which means that I don't have to participate in arguments about whether somebody put the angel on crooked .
And that's important to me.
by CNB