COMMON SAINTS: Can You Spell Dysfunctional?

Using the lingo of the day, I’d have to say that I grew up in a dysfunctional home. 

Of course, if I’m honest, I believe most, if not all, of my friends also grew up in homes that enjoyed some level of dysfunction. That observation comes with hindsight, by the way. As a kid I thought mine was the only dysfunctional family on the planet.  And for good reason.

A lot of kids have God-parents. I had oh-my-God parents.  As in, “Oh, my God – don’t they realize how they’re messing me up?”  Things are better now.  I’ve actually come to love them as if they meant to have me.

My mother was a chain-smoking vegetarian. Let that sink in. She was a health nut who smoked two to three packs a day. How does that work?  I don’t get it. She used to sit us down and offer us nuggets of health-related wisdom. Speaking in her tobacco-burned, ultra-low-toned, scratchy voice, she would say things like:

"Don’t eat that red meat – it’ll kill you!" 

"Thanks, mom." 

Or, in-between soggy coughs, she would say to us:

"When you put sugar on your cereal… - (long pause to let out a gut-wrenching wheeze) – …you might as well be eating poison!"

"Yes, mom, I’ll keep that under advisement."

My dad wasn’t much better. He was a prankster whenever we played games. Like the game Twister. Normally, an enjoyable game. Well, just for fun, he decided to replace all those colored dots – with hot plates! He called the game Blister. When he said “right hand, red” – he MEANT it!

I try to call my mom each week – but it always turns into a depressing conversation. She’s turned out to be quite paranoid, so our conversations are always on the dark side.  She called recently, and I answered:

"Hello?"

"Hi, Danny…” she moaned. 

“Oh, hi mom.  How are you?”

“Oh, as good as can be expected…” she moaned even weaker. 

“Um – well, you sound good.”

“Well, Danny – we hear what we want to hear…” she said. 

I told her to keep fresh batteries in her Life-Alert button and that I’d call her next week.

Every time we talk, we end up fighting – usually about the dumbest things. Last week we got into an argument about the existence of hell! She would not let up. I decided to take matters into my own hands. So, I called the underworld. Some guy answered. I said:

“Who in hell is this?” 

“This is Satan.” 

“Oh, my mom and I were just talking about you – were your ears burning?”

Her whole family is the same way. Her sister is always bummed out – everything’s a problem.  She’s never happy…  

I guess that makes her - - my “aunty depressent.” …

Dan McGowan is a comic and actor living in Denver and working anywhere people will pay him. Dan, who was a contestant on NBC’s “Last Comic Standing,” has appeared in several television commercials and most recently was a finalist in the search for the new Maytag repairman. Dan performs clean comedy and musical parodies in churches and corporations nationwide and is a published author, songwriter and music composer.

Read more of Dan's COMMON SAINTS:

• Don't I Know You?
• The Cryptic Feast 
• Piggy Back Pavlov
• Bumper Stickers, Bookmarks & Buttons
• A Little Bit Louder, Now ...
• Don't Touch That Dial!
• Take My Junk, Please!
• My Messy Life