Mansion/Apartment/Shack/House.
These were the four words that ruled my life as a newly appointed teenage girl. While entering my room, I suspect that it was all my mom could do to find the dirty clothes and then get the hell out of that shithole as soon as possible.
It was a shack, my bedroom. It was a shack due to all the rogue MASH papers that littered every corner of the room. That and the random oversized teddy bears that I would dry hump because I have always been partial to the saying practice makes perfect.
Oh, the days of carefree dry humping.
If you’ve never played MASH, firstly, I apologize for your loss. It’s a loss in so many ways, mainly because now you will have to read this next part outlining how to play the game.
For all of you other awesome people, skip to the next part.
For NON-MASH playing people’s eyes only:
1) At the bottom of a piece of computer paper you’ve stolen from your mom’s office, write down four names in a straight row. One of these names will be the person you are going to marry. We liked to play celebrity MASH and combine boys from our school with celebrities. Once you’ve narrowed your choices down, you should have four names on the paper.
One name MUST be someone who is your sworn enemy. My sworn enemy during school was Matt F because he used to always shoot spitballs in my hair, and one time, a tiny paper ball covered in Matt F’s saliva flew directly into my mouth.
It was horrendous.
2) On the left-hand side of the paper, write the number of kids you’re going to have. Sometimes I’d get fresh with myself and have options like 1, 2, 3, 500 because I was such an intelligent child; I thought 500 kids was an actual possibility.
3) On the right-hand side, Write four car options. This was always tricky for me because, to this day, I have no clue about cars. I’d always default to options like “a truck like Dad’s” or “convertible”.
4) Finally, write MASH at the top of the page.
5) Get your friend to choose a number between 1 and 10. They will always choose Five. Five is now the number that seals your fate.
6) Starting at the M on MASH, you begin to count five in a clockwise motion. Whatever you land on, you must cross out. In this example, you’d land on your first car option, which was probably the convertible because that was always the first car I could think of when brainstorming.
7) Continue to make these exterminations in rounds of five until you only have one option left in each category.
8) And there you have it — Your life played out before your eyes. Voila!
The Next Part (okay former MASH players, you can come back now)
One afternoon as I played this game with my friend Mary, I managed to somehow disqualify my archenemy Matt F and wrangle myself a certain JTT as a potential husband for future years.
Visions of holidaying with Tim Allen danced in my head. I, being an idiot, assumed that Tim Allen was not only JTT’s fake dad on Home Improvement but also his real dad because I have no idea how TV works.
I decided that this new development implied I should write JTT a letter in my infinite knowledge. We were soon to be wed, after all. Earlier, Mary and I had found a JTT fan mail address in our latest issue of Cosmo Girl, which had given me the idea to add the Home Improvement child celebrity to my list of life partner options.
The letter, although not verbatim because my memory isn’t ironclad you guys, went something like this:
Dear Jonathan,
I thought I should write you to let you know that we will be meeting one day soon, and you will be falling in love with me.
A bold beginning if ever there was one.
I’ve just finished an exciting game of MASH with you as my future husband. I think it’s important for you to know this in advance to prepare for what comes next.
Even back then, I knew that I wouldn’t be easy to live with.
First, I’m concerned that although I am told I will be marrying a celebrity soon, the MASH board has stated that we will be living in a shack. What the heck gives JTT? You’ve got all that sweet cable TV dough kicking around. Why are we living in a shack? Where will this shack be? Have you been booted from your starring role in Home Improvement? I need answers before I lock in, buddy.
Also, it says here that we will have no less than 50 children. I am excited about the hubba hubba, but not so much for raising that many rugrats…and in a shack!
Clearly, I’ve always been a creep. Likewise, I’ve never been a fan of children, even when I was a child.
How, I ask, are we supposed to raise 50 children on a non-actor’s wage? It makes no sense! The only reason I even added you was because I thought it would be cool to kiss a famous person. This whole thing is moving a little fast for me.
Perhaps we should meet first, try out the kissing thing a bit and then see where it goes. Does that sound good to you?
Please, feel free to write back at your earliest convenience.
Note: I never mentioned the car because I didn’t care about the car.
I shoved in the MASH paper as proof of mine and JTT’s impending nuptials and mailed that sucker off.
Now, it was time to wait.
I waited.
I waited some more.
After a few months had passed, it occurred to me a dreary winter’s eve that JTT had passed me over. He shrugged me off. Snubbed me like some common fangirl.
I stewed for some time over the rejection because what’s a gal supposed to do when the painful sting of rebuttal comes her way? I redid the MASH lists, trying oh so badly to get his name once again as a husband.
Alas, nothing doing.
I’m not going to lie and tell you it didn’t sting like a mother bleeper.
But finally, after 20-some years of mulling over this devastating rejection, I understand the truth. And that truth is simple. It’s a truth that holds…er…true through years of heartache and strife. A truth that uplifts me in the ever-depressing state of affairs our world struggles through. This truth is the truest truth that has ever been or ever will.
And that truth is, obviously, the letter got lost in the mail.
Now that we’ve gotten that all straightened out and I’ve addressed the issue publicly, I reckon I should be receiving a marriage proposal any day now.
So yes, I reject JTT’s rejection from the past because there was never any rejection to begin with. Sorry, Jonathan, you can blame our craptastic postal service for missing your chance with me. For who in their right mind would reject me — the great, glorious, and very mentally sound LRB.
—
This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.
***
From The Good Men Project on Medium
What Does Being in Love and Loving Someone Really Mean? | My 9-Year-Old Accidentally Explained Why His Mom Divorced Me | The One Thing Men Want More Than Sex | The Internal Struggle Men Battle in Silence |
Join The Good Men Project as a Premium Member today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
A $50 annual membership gives you an all access pass. You can be a part of every call, group, class and community.
A $25 annual membership gives you access to one class, one Social Interest group and our online communities.
A $12 annual membership gives you access to our Friday calls with the publisher, our online community.
Register New Account
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—
Photo credit: Shutterstock