SHAFTED AGAIN BY NOBEL
I didn’t win the Nobel Prize in Physics again this year. What’s a guy got to do to win that thing? I was made to win that prize, but for like the umpteenth time in a row I’ve been given the shaft. Annoying! Who cares if I’m not a physixcist or however you spell it? I’ve been doing lots of cool physics-type stuff forever and deserve some recognition and money.
Since a teenager I’ve done this kick-ass trick where I put a quarter in each of the palms of my hands and then I quickly slam my hands down against a tabletop. When I lift my hands I reveal that one of the quarters has magically moved from one hand to the other. SHAZAM! It’s kind of hard to explain in writing, but basically when I slam my hands down I quickly flip one quarter into to my other hand. I do this so fast that nobody can see the quarter change hands. It’s awesome.
So, you see what I mean? That trick has “Nobel Prize in Physics” written all over it. I’ve been doing it for close to twenty years now. A guy from high school taught me the trick during a down time in chemistry class. He shouldn’t win the Nobel Prize in Physics, though. I should. He’s a jerk. At least he was. Haven’t seen him in a while. Last time I did we got into a big argument over VH1. I love VH1. He doesn’t. What a jerk.
Anyway, screw that guy. I do the trick better than him, anyhow. People love it. My trick makes people happy, especially four-year-olds. My son marvels at it every time. He thinks I’m awesome. If there was a Nobel Prize in Dad I’d win that every year. My other son doesn’t like my quarter trick as much, but he’s only two and can’t fully appreciate it. He’s always takes the quarters out of my hands and pretends they’re airplanes. Annoying!
My quarter trick isn’t the only cool physics-type trick I do. I can crack an egg with one hand and hardly have any of it spill on the kitchen counter. Yep, pretty much the entire egg goes right into the bowl. It’s awesome. All with one hand, too. With my other hand I often pump my fist because I did the trick really well. Sir Isaac Hayes probably did the same thing when that apple fell on his head.
I also have an uncanny ability to find the remote control when it’s lost. It’s like I always know exactly where to look. Just last week the remote was missing and my whole family was a wreck. I saved the day by looking under the couch cushions and–SHAZAM! There it was! It was like I knew it was there all along. Kind of spooky. I guess that’s more of an example of how I am a psychic and not a physickcyst or however you spell it, but whatever, you get my point: I’m really talented and awesome and I should be swimming in Nobel Prizes.
Oddly enough, the guy who won the Nobel Prize in Physics this year lives in the same town as me. He’s like 80. I drive by his house all the time. Not sure what the big deal about him is. He’s got an okay lawn, but his shrubs suck. My shrubs are way better than his. I have half a mind to knock on his door and show him my quarter trick. The few old people I’ve shown it to have liked the trick a lot. Bet he’d feel real bad about winning the Nobel Prize in Physics after seeing me work my magic. I wonder if he likes VH1?
At any rate, I rest my case. May this essay serve as a wake up call to the Nobel people. Here’s hoping when they give their prize in Physics next year, my name, Christopher Monks, will be on it engraved in big blinged-out lettering. I can’t wait! SHAZAM!
(Originally published on November 9th, 2005)