“The Big Draw” by Chris Zito

A “draw,” in show biz lingo, is an act that has real fans, a serious following. When I do stand up the people are in the club to see a comedy show. When Jerry Seinfeld does stand up people in the theater are there to see Jerry Seinfeld. He’s a draw.

“Anyone here to see Zito? Didn’t think so.”

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“I Would Have Fired Me” By Chris Zito

My first summer job was at the Farmer’s Market. The place was right across the street from where my dad sold cars. He saw that they were hiring and vouched for me. Guess he didn’t know me as well as thought he did.

My enthusiasm was matched only by my speed.

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“Man Vs. Garage” By Chris Zito

When it’s a little dank and smelly. When it’s become no place for women or children.
When any search turns into a lost afternoon, it’s time to clean the garage.

“Where’s my Turtle Wax?”

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“On a Dime” By Chris Zito

When kids are little it’s easy to cheer them up. You can kiss their boo-boo, give them ice cream, or sometimes wait a few minutes and everything changes. Most children under eight are basically bi-polar.

There’s no height requirement for
the emotional roller coaster.

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“Officer Daddy” By Chris Zito

I’ve crossed over from just playmate into the dreaded land of the enforcer. My five-year old needs constant reminders of what is next and what we expect of him. I sound more and more like a cop dealing with a drunk than a sweet Daddy.

“Sir, is this your Bakugon on the floor? Sir?”

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“I Know Your Father!” By Chris Zito

Over the Memorial Day weekend I witnessed a pair of boys scuffling in the Target. They were 8 or 10, obviously brothers, and they’re folks were no where in sight. The two of them raised a good old-fashioned ruckus right there in the barbecue grill accessory aisle, which as you can imagine was filled to capacity with folks looking for new spatulas.

Good to know the noogie is still available as a way to torture a little brother.

The same scene would have played out very differently when I was a kid. If one of my brothers and I acted out in a store the nearest adult would have come over and grabbed us both.
“Now see here you two. Stop that! What’s your name, young man?”
“Uh…Mark Zito.” (My older brothers always did the talking if we got in trouble)
“Zito…well, I know your father! And I’m sure he didn’t raise you boys to fight in public, now did he?”
“No, sir.”
“Now go on. Get out of here.”

I’m pretty sure this was the guy.

Who knows if the guy really knew our father. It didn’t matter. Any grown up anywhere could grab you by you shirt collar in those days and tell you off. And if you went home and told your folks they’d say, “Well, I didn’t raise you to fight in public, did I?”
How did they always get they’re stories straight?

My dad met secretly with every other dad in town.

Today, of course, correcting someone else’s child’s behavior is taboo. And God forbid you lay a hand on the kid, even to break up a fight. Somehow these kids, or the courts, or some mysterious virus, has divided parents in a way that didn’t exist back in the day. Maybe with both parents working, dads don’t have time for those secret meetings anymore.

Thanks for reading. Tell your pals.
Chris Zito

“Tone Deaf Dentist” By Chris Zito

The dentist’s chair is far from my favorite spot in the world. While this doesn’t exactly separate me from the rest of the  population I do pride myself in being able sit calmly, breathing regularly, and just go with the flow.

And by flow I mean the flow of blood from my gums.

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