Perspective

Not in my back yard: a major league Christmas fable

By SCOTT BARANCIK, Times Staff Writer
Published December 2, 2007

My daughter and I were playing in the back yard Wednesday when the doorbell rang. I ran inside to get it.

Me: Who's there?

A voice: Opportunity!

Me: Huh?

Voice: Just open the door.

I unbolted the door, opening it just enough to see six men in pinstripe suits, all smiling at me.

Me: Who are you?

Man: Me? The name's Sternberg, Stu Sternberg. And these are my peeps...

He told me their names, but so quietly I couldn't quite hear.

Me: What can I do for you, Mr. Sternberg?

Sternberg: We have a surprise that I think you're gonna love.

Me: (wary) What is it?

Sternberg: (pauses dramatically) We've decided to put an ice-cream store in your back yard. Shazam!

Me: Come again?

Sternberg: Imagine: It's 92 degrees out in the shade, your air conditioner's on the fritz, not a Schlitz in sight. And then it hits you: ice cream! All you have to do is walk out your back door. (Sticks his hand out to shake.) So, do we have a deal?

Me: Wait a minute, sir. I like my backyard. It's not much, but it's got a nice swing set, some pretty flowers to smell, a little pond, and, well, it makes us happy. What's wrong with the ice cream store down the street?

Sternberg: Oh, that old thing? (Swats the air derisively.) It's obsolete. No room for jimmies. Doorway's too narrow to fit jumbo waffle cones. The public demands waffle cones.

Me: So why not widen the doorway, put in a skylight, spruce the place up a little?

Sternberg: Listen, my friend, we're prepared to make you an offer.

Me (scratching chin): Hmm. With enough cash, my family could finally afford a YMCA membership, maybe take a vacation once in a while. How much would you pay us?

Sternberg: Pay you? Friend, I don't think you understand: this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Tutti Frutti at your beck and call.

Me: Wait a minute. You want me to pay you to put an ice-cream store in my back yard? I should at least get a cut of the store's profits.

Sternberg (laughing; his pals titter approvingly): Listen, I promise you, when we're done with your back yard, you'll be the envy of the neighborhood. Everyone will want to stop by. Imagine how much dough your little girl could rake in with a lemonade stand out front. Boo-yah!

Me: But if you put that dang ice cream store in my back yard, I'll need more money just to stay even. We'd need a fence between the store and our house, a crew to pick up all the empty cups and spoons, squad cars to keep the peace, a wider street, etc. Besides, where would my kid play?

Sternberg: That's the genius of this deal. We'll be replacing the old ice cream store with a shiny new mall. Can you say Disney Store? Ka-pow!

Me: Look, pal, I'm not gonna pay you to steal my back yard. So why don't you pack up your pals and get off my property.

Sternberg: (begging) Pretty please! Where's your Christmas spirit?

Me: Get out.

Sternberg: Hanukkah?

Me: Scram.

Sternberg: Um, Kwanzaa?

Me: Skedaddle.

Sternberg (angry): Well, bah humbug to you too, Mr. Mean Pants.

Me: Come back when you have a real offer. (Slams door.)

[Last modified December 3, 2007, 09:13:42]