Author: David Diego Rodríguez, Ph.D.

I teach Spanish and I am a standup comedian.

Zanies Comedian Party


Dr. D. (AKA DDR) warming up for his comedy debut.

I never actually performed at Zanies Comedy Club, but I did see a few shows there. My favorite night there was quite a surprise that I was even there in the first place. I remember I was at The Clout Club and one of the other comedians told us that Zanies was having a party the next Tuesday for all the Chicago-area comedians. All comedians were invited. I met a lot of people that night at Zanies that I had seen perform in other comedy clubs. There were also some famous and many more not so famous people there whom I don’t remember now.

My sister wanted to go, so I told her to just say that she was a comedian, too. Before she actually showed up, I met Richard Kind who went through Second City and had done some TV commercials. However, I didn’t know who he was at the time because he wasn’t actually famous yet. Richard was very surprised that I didn’t know him. I felt embarrassed not knowing who he was. Finally, he asked me, “You didn’t see my bank commercial where I’m climbing outside the window with suction cups?” I was extremely embarrassed when I told him that I had never seen his commercial because I didn’t watch much television.

When my sister finally showed up, I told her about my encounter with Richard, who was now mingling with everyone at the party. She laughed at me even though she didn’t know who Richard Kind was, either. Eventually, Richard made his way back to my sister and me. “Do you know who I am?” he asked her. “Of course, I do!” she said. “You’re Richard Kind. You did the bank commercial. You’re the guy with suction cups on the window.” “Finally!” Richard said. “Someone who knows my work!” And he was genuinely pleased that he had found someone who had seen his commercial.

DDR

Cell phones


My electronic home monitoring device

I never had a beeper. I never had a brick phone. I never had the latest technological gadgets. But one day I suddenly had a cell phone. My ex-wife gave me one.

I had a cell phone before most people. Some people were really impressed that I had a cell phone. People could reach me wherever I was, which was both good and bad. However, I prefer to communicate via e-mail rather than talk on the telephone. A few people would call me, but mostly my ex would call me to see where I was. She would call and almost immediately ask, “Where are you?” Invariably, I would answer, “I’m at work,” “I’m at school,” or “I’m upstairs. I never left the house.” I felt like a parolee with an electronic home monitoring device.

The cell phone is a wonderful invention that I can live without, and I haven’t had one for years now. With a cell phone you lose all your privacy. I mean, everyone may contact you anytime, anyplace. If you give everyone your cell phone and home phone numbers, they call your cell phone first instinctively. You’re always available to everyone at all hours of the day. With a landline telephone, I would never answer the phone when I was showering, on the toilet, or away from the house. When I first had my cell phone, I always answered no matter where I was. I felt as if I was tethered by an electronic leash.

Once I was at Home Depot, when I unexpectedly had to use the bathroom. Suddenly, I could hear my stomach churning and the noises were traveling down my abdomen. I immediately went to the bathroom. I must admit that it was a remarkably close call and I almost regretted not having a change of underwear in the car. While sitting on the toilet, my cell phone rings, and I instinctively answer it. As I’m talking, my stomach starts churning again. Let’s just say the methane gases within me built up again and took the path of least resistance. Adding to the sound effect were the acoustics of this toilet stall that would rival any concert hall. I tried to control my bodily functions because I was holding a telephone conversation, but all my efforts were in vain. Suddenly, the pent-up gases escaped from my body with a mighty roar despite my most valiant efforts. My friend on the end of the line asks, “What was that?” I was too embarrassed to tell the truth, so I said, “I’m at Home Depot. That was a saw.” My friend said, “But that noise was extremely loud.” “Well, it was a chain saw! There it goes again! See, doesn’t it sound like a chain saw?”

I’ve been living cellphone free and happily for three years now.

DDR

Robin


Great America, Gurnee, Illinois

I have had a few memorable Spanish students since I began teaching, but some are more unforgettable than others. Some I vaguely remember. For example, one female student, I don’t even remember her name. Or anything else about her. I only remember that she was petite, had black hair, caramel-colored skin, and she always sat in the front row, right in front of me. Well, I actually remember two things about her that were quite memorable. Once after class, she told me that the Spanish word for Muslim, “musulmán,” was the same as in her language. However, I don’t even remember what language she told me she spoke. But I remember our conversation quite vividly.

The other incident that I remember occurred on Halloween. I usually bring chocolate for my students on Valentine’s Day and candy on Halloween. I started passing out candy when I noticed that UIC students sometimes wore costumes for Halloween. I enjoy giving them candy. I’m not sure why, but I do.

Anyway, on Halloween, I passed out candy at the beginning of class and put the rest on my desk in case the students wanted more. Everyone was on time, except for the student I’ve been describing. She came about ten minutes late and was about to sit down at her desk right in front of me. Suddenly, she noticed the candy on my desk and stopped to take some–without even asking! She didn’t even greet me, and she was taking my candy! “Buenos días,” I told her. But she still didn’t greet me.

Her back was to the class, so I noticed that she was wearing the red and yellow uniform shirt with a big “R” for Robin, Batman’s crime-fighting partner. Finally, I said, “It’s okay for you to take some candy since you came in costume.” She gave a puzzled look.  “It’s Halloween and you’re wearing a costume,” I said. “This isn’t a costume. I just like wearing this shirt,” she said. Well, the class and I laughed at this. She just stared at me blankly and sat down. And sure enough, she wore her Robin shirt several more times during the rest of the semester.

DDR

AARP


How did I suddenly turn fifty!

Okay, I wasn’t ready for it today. I was caught completely off guard today by the mail. I opened my mailbox and there it was: AARP, The Magazine.

I really needed someone to hold my hand at that moment, but I was all alone. I still can’t believe I’m old enough to belong to AARP. Even scarier: Somewhere along the line, I became a dues-paying member. However, I don’t remember writing a check to AARP, much less mailing it out. This qualifies me to be a member of AARP. WOW! I guess I went on the road to senility when I wrote out the check.

DDR

My fiftieth birthday party


I never thought I would live to be fifty!

I am now fifty-one. That’s 11 Celsius. (I stole that joke from George Carlin.) I have now lived longer than my mother who died of cirrhosis of the liver. Unlike my mother’s final years, I have been extremely happy these last few years. I’m not sure why, but I attribute it to the fact that I never thought I would live to see twenty-one. That in itself is a very long story for various reasons.

I don’t usually celebrate my birthday because to me it feels like just another day. There are no significant milestones for your birthdays after you turn 10, 13, 18, 21, and if you’re a male, 25 because then you auto insurance rates drop. I must admit that I was initially nervous about turning 30, but when my thirtieth birthday came, I felt no different than the day before.

More than a year has passed since I turned fifty. But I will never forget it as an important milestone since I had an unusual fiftieth birthday party. As a police officer, I worked with Vinny and John as regular partners. One day, Vinny told me he was having a surprise birthday party for John. I said it was a great idea and that I would help him arrange everything. Then Vinny asked when my birthday was and how old I would be. Well, John’s birthday was in July and mine was in May, and we were both turning 50. I told Vinny that I didn’t want a birthday party, but he insisted on including me in the party. I reluctantly agreed.

Well, Denise and Margaret, two other police officers we knew well, helped with the party arrangements. Denise took charge of ordering the cakes. Everyone was surprised when she unveiled the cakes at the birthday party. Denise and Margaret were so proud of themselves. One cake was topped with a pair of breasts and the other with a vagina. I’m proud to say that mine was the vagina cake. It was pure, unadulterated pornography! Denise knew of a Mexican bakery that specialized in custom cakes. I truly believe that only a female could think of something as creative as this because we lesser male beings would have come up with something as lame as, “Happy Birthday!” Everyone, male and female, loved the cakes!

When the party ended, we had leftover cake. No one wanted to take any home, so I volunteered to take home the leftovers to my sons. When I looked in the cake boxes, all that was left of the cakes was the breasts and the vagina. “I can’t take that home to my sons!” I said.

I could just see my sons waking up, opening the fridge, and looking for something to snack on. Somehow, I didn’t think I could come up with a satisfactory explanation. So Denise scraped off the female genitalia from the cakes and I felt safe taking them home. That was certainly my most memorable birthday party.

DDR