Walking Stupidity Time Bomb

I’ve agreed to assist a class AAA, advanced stuper (short as you may guess, for an abominably absurd and asinine stupid person) only if he publicly declares his stupidity right here on my blog. He is a golf dad I see now and then who has a tendency to speak in rapid, run-on sentences for as long as thirty-three minutes, barely taking a breath, and blurting out ridiculous statements with the convoluted aim of a dysfunctional machine gun, startling and offending all within a ten foot range. His e-mail has been edited greatly. Here goes:

Dear Keli:

My name is Bertram Weidermeyer, and I am a recovering stuper, at least since last week. Okay, two days ago. So maybe it was this morning. You gotta believe me, I didn’t mean anything when I told the chubby kid on the driving range that he’d put on too much weight and should look into Sumo wrestling instead of golf. I quickly caught myself and told him I meant it in a good way.

I know. I like to talk, but it’s the New Yorker in me. What I said to the older kid on the putting green about his game being way better in the past, I meant that he probably still could get a golf scholarship to a college in Kalamazoo or Fargo. And when I asked Coach’s wife if she had a good time at her fortieth birthday party, how was I supposed to know she’d just turned thirty? Weren’t you flattered when I told you you’re pretty smart for a woman? Now stop practicing those Tae Kwon Do moves you’ve learned on me!

I promise will try not to act like a stuper, at least for a whole day. Or an afternoon or something. I can do it. Really I can. But I’m pretty sure I’m not even all that stupid. If at all.



Denial may be a good thing, as it means that a stuper is possibly exercising thought. But Bert is unfortunately delusional in stating the possibility of his not being an idiot, which makes him denusional.

I cannot recall ever seeing Bert’s mouth closed for longer than a few moments during daylight hours. Thankfully, I’ve never shared his company pre dawn or post dusk. He is indeed a walking stupidity time bomb. I can practically hear him ticking when he’s quiet for a second or two. I’ve heard his wife wears earplugs at night. But I’m not here to criticize. I told Bert I’d try to help him and would start talking to him again and stop using him for my Tae Kwon Do dummy if he took my suggestions.

I met Bert four summers ago. The first year, I tolerated him; summer #2, I ignored him. The following summer, I threw him dagger-like looks and, if he dared approach me, open-mouthed, I made sounds, mimicking the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach which my younger son had thoroughly studied in Biology that year. By this summer, I’d taken to practicing round-house kicks over his head, as well landing the reverse spinning hook kick to his backside any time he approached a youngster to make a pronouncement. Needless to say, I’m close to getting my black belt, thanks to Bert.

Another parent suggested he talk to me about his stupidity problem. Bert asked for my help. Hence, the e-mail.

For Bert and anyone who equates speaking without thinking on par with breathing: take careful note of what you are saying. Think about your words before you hurl them out of your mouth. Think before you speak simply means to slow the rate of talk so you know your own thought before it’s expressed. Whoa! How novel is that?

Thoughts controlled mean words controlled. The tongue is supposed to be your servant, not vice versa; it should be incapable of running off on its own. To do this, Bert must engage in quiet time, daily. He must give himself time-outs and keep his mouth closed. It’s okay to start out with five minutes, twice a day. Then extend the time.

I’ve found Bert a partner to help him with his daily quiet time. Remember the Sumo wrestler kid Bert befriended on the driving range? He’s agreed to stay on top of Bert.

Just think.



7 Responses to “Walking Stupidity Time Bomb”

  1. Sarah says:

    It’s really hateful when adults say stupid things to kids. It’s because they think they can get away with it. I’m glad you practiced your kicks on Bert. I think a whole group session of kicks would do wonders for Bert.

  2. Paulyn says:

    Lol! I think stupers don’t even have the ability to understand the words “think before you speak”!

  3. Ferd says:

    Kel, I think your advice is great, as always. But I think this dude is beyond hope. Even if he slows down, I’m guessing he’ll say stupid shit more slowly.

  4. Jenny says:

    LOL! School that dude, Keli. You rock.

    I can’t stand that hissing cockroach picture …. ugh.

  5. new diva says:

    Oh my, you have taken on quite a project! The sumo kid should help though!!! Good luck to all involved.

  6. dawn says:

    Good luck Keli… you’re gonna need it 🙂
    There are more Berts than not 🙁

  7. Keli says:

    Agreed! I think it’s a great idea for a group session on Bert! I’m seeing him this weekend for a jr. golf tourney. I’ll get a bunch of people together.
    You are so right! Maybe it’s genetic?
    Thanks! That is a super scary thought! I do feel he’s a little fearful of me, so I’m going to play up that aspect and see if it makes even a small difference. For the sake of the kids!
    If only I could school the dude!
    I was in a hissing mood.
    new diva:
    I think the sumo kid will be a major help. I’m counting on him!
    Thanks! Fortunately, I haven’t come across too many Berts lately. It must be the Tae Kwon Do.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.