Hog in the Living Room

The plumbing was failing. The aluminum siding was falling off. The back porch was about to collapse. And the roof was a little iffy. But the big problem was the gigantic hog sitting smack dab in the middle of the living room.

"Look, the hog has got to go," said Martha. "I think I've been a pretty good sport up till now, but it's eating us out of ... house and home. It's as filthy as a ... a pig. And it's filling the house with pig poop! Worst of all, I think it's beginning to crack the foundation."

"All right," I conceded. "I never really liked it in the first place. It's just that the contractor said we had to have it or the roof was going to cave in."

"And you believed him," said Martha.

"Well, it's not as if you argued ... er, very hard ... that is, really, really hard for, um, a very long time. That is, you might have been more ... forceful," I concluded, a bit lamely.

"We just called him in to look at the curtains," said Martha. "I never did understand where the pig came from. But we're agreed that it has to go, right?"

"Yes," I sighed. "I suppose so. Only, the pig guy says he can bring an elephant in here for pretty cheap."

"A what?" shrieked Martha. "No! No elephants!"

"Just one," I ventured defensively. "He says if we don't do it, the roof will collapse."

"That's what he said to get the hog in here!" Martha seized me by both ears so that I had to look her straight in the eye. "Remember! How can you tell when the pig guy is lying?" Her voice was a low growl.

"I ... I don't know," I squawked.

"BECAUSE HIS FREAKIN' LIPS ARE FREAKIN' MOVING!" she screamed.

"Oh, yes. I remember now. I'll just call in the Really Smart Guys Who Know Everything About House Repair, shall I?"

We called in the Really Smart Guys Who Know Everything About House Repair. Martha wasn't too keen on doing this, to tell you the truth.

"Aren't they the ones who gave us the pig guy in the first place?" she asked.

"Well, yes," I had to admit, "but they don't like him that much anymore. Anyway, nobody makes a move on house repairs without consulting them."

She acquiesced, but reluctantly.

The Really Smart Guys were, characteristically, very helpful.

"Hey, don't worry about a thing!" they said soothingly. "Here's what we're going to do. We'll bring in all the major home repair people and let them debate what needs to be done to your home. Then, you can choose the one you want!"

"Suppose we don't want one of the 'major' guys?" quibbled Martha.

"Oh, you do!" replied the Really Smart Guys. "None of the other ones are serious, and we should know, because we're the the Really Smart Guys Who Know Everything About House Repair, and we decide who is and is not serious."

"Do we get to ask questions?" asked Martha, a tad unkindly, I thought.

"Oh, of course you do!" said the Really Smart Guys. "Of course, one or two of our guys will be on hand to interpret your questions to the home repair people, because you lay people don't know how to talk to professionals."

On the day of the Great Debate, even Martha had to admit that they probably had invited everyone in the home repair industry. Watching them scurry about the house reminded her to ask if they could do anything about our roach infestation problem.

Our "moderator" was a Really Smart Guy named Dick Ed. Dick Ed's job was to ensure that the debate stayed on topic, moved quickly, and did not address anything of substance.

The debate started something like this:

"I can get you some great knickknacks, cheap."

"John's in favor of paying too much to repaint the bathrooms. I can get you a better deal."

"Am not! Mitt's changed his position on roofing shingles three times! Would you trust him to clean out your rain gutters?"

"I'm the most religious person here."

"Oh, like hell you are!"

"How about a nice taupe for the master bedroom?"

"I support the builders."

"Me, too!"

"And me!"

Well, the matter of who supported the builders more had been going on for a good twenty minutes, when Martha waved her arms urgently and "shushed" for silence.

"What is it?" asked Dick Ed, annoyed.

"There's someone out on the sidewalk," said Martha. "He's shouting and trying to get our attention."

"Oh, that's Dennis," scoffed Dick Ed. "Pay no attention to him. He's unselectable."

"But listen to what he's saying!" entreated Martha.

A faint sound was clawing its way through the walls ...

"Get ... rid ... of ... pig!"

"You can't have him!" snapped Dick Ed. "He's too short. We Really Smart Guys have determined that you have to choose one of the ones who argue about paint and knickknacks."

"Never ... get ... anything ... done ... with ... pig ... in ... house!"

"Did you hear that?" Martha persisted. 'That's just what I've been saying!"

"Well, you don't know anything about it, do you?" snarled Dick Ed.

"Not know anything about what's good for my own house?" Martha retorted.

"You're just a homeowner!" spat Dick Ed. "You're not qualified like I am. I'm a Really Smart Guy Who Knows Everything About House Repair. On to the questions! Any questions?"

"I sure do!" snapped Martha. "What are you going to do about getting this fat hog out of our house?"

"What she means," interjected Dick Ed smoothly, "is how do you propose to repair this home in such a way as to best support our builders?"

"That is not what I ...," Martha began, but she was drowned out by another gabble of vows of builder support.

"Well, since you aren't going to answer that question," continued Martha, when the racket had subsided, "what are you going to do about our 50-year-old plumbing, which is falling apart?"

"What she means," interrupted Dick Ed, "is how do you propose to prioritize minor issues, in light of the need to support our builders?"

The cacophony had not died out before Martha had thrown the entire lot out the front door. I distinctly remember a large footprint on Dick Ed's bottom. I had never realized what big feet Martha had.

So, my sincere apologies to the Really Smart Guys Who Know Everything About House Repair and to the entire house repair industry. Or "Home Repair," as they like to call it. I'm afraid we have contracted with that unselectable Dennis guy. The hog was the guest of honor at a backyard luau last night.

It's a shame politics isn't that easy. Although it could be.