Many years ago Saturday night Live did a piece about a fake vomit and dog poop salesman. He was a slippery looking 50 ish guy with dyed black hair and a polyester suit. It was the most brilliant thing they’ve ever done. It was all of humorous, tragic, and uplifting.
By American standards he would have been judged a loser and a failure. He might very well have lived in a trashed one bedroom apartment, and driven an AMC Gremlin.
But what did he really accomplish? He made millions of kids incredibly happy. He was responsible for the look on my son’s face when he saw the look on my face when I walked into the living room to see a pile of poop on the rug. And he was the reason my son let out squeals of laughter when I was shocked by his hand buzzer. He did something that a billionaire Wall Street banker never did, which was to bring incredible joy to millions, including my son.
At my son’s age at the time, he didn’t realize that mom and dad and all of the other victims were quite aware of the fact that the poop and the vomit were fake. So our expressions of mock horror brought him great joy, which brought us great joy.
We spent countless hours in dopey pre adolescent stores looking for a better exploding cigarette or whoopie cushion. I spent a trillion bucks on that crap. It was money incredibly well spent.