Stacking up to Mr. May |

Stacking up to Mr. May

Biff America

Monte gives out good calendars.

He does so to promote his business; I’ve probably owned a decade’s worth over the years.

Soon after Christmas, I begin keeping an eye out for Monte. Usually I’ll see him at some local function where he’ll hand me a couple – one for my wife, one for me.

Some may doubt this, but I like Monte’s calendars not because each month is a photo of a scantily clad model – no, I like them because they are small (not the models but the calendar itself) and they can be stuck inside a drawer or cabinet. No need to mar your walls with thumbtack or tape.

I can say with total honesty that I’d enjoy Monte’s months even if they included pictures of landscape, wildlife or flora and fauna. The fact that they feature models about half my age with plastic parts and all their freckles, pimples and warts airbrushed, is nice but not necessary.

Since my friend’s business caters to both sexes, his almanacs do the same; half his calendars feature male models (about half my age with plastic parts with all their freckles, pimples and warts airbrushed), and half are females. My mate has one of the male versions stuck on outside of her filing cabinet drawer.

I recently ripped Miss May, “Jessica,” from her place on the inside of my cabinet door and threw her into the recycling bin. Much to my surprise, when I took a look at Miss June (“Kirsten”), she closely resembled my first love – my fourth grade teacher Miss Lewis. Could it be her granddaughter?

Lately, I’ve been looking more at my wife’s calendar than my own.

Ellen has been out of town on a hut trip for the last few days. Due to work obligations, I wasn’t able to attend. Since she’s been gone, I’ve been spending some time at her desk working on her computer.

I’d hoped to install a v-chip to prevent her from shopping online, but all I was able to do was set up a new virus-scan and de-fragment her hard drive.

It was during her long weekend away that I got to spend some time with Maurice: “Mr. May.”

Maurice is a black dude wearing a swim suit so low on his hips that I can make a good guess at his religion of birth. He has thick hair and skin so tight you can see the outline of his internal organs.

Certainly I could say that the reason Maurice looks so good is due to his age, lighting and airbrushing. I might even suggest that, when I was in my 20s – had I the benefit of a professional photographer – I might have cut as fine a figure. Unfortunately, when I was Maurice’s age, cameras were wooden boxes with pin-holes poked in them and the air brush had not been invented.

All that aside, I got tired of having Mr. May looking over my shoulder as I worked. He made me feel a little insecure, and I wondered if my mate would prefer that I looked more like Maurice: young, black with the body-fat content of a claw hammer.

To cheer myself up, I went upstairs to my own office and dug Jessica, out of the recycling. I asked myself: “Would I rather Ellen look like this gal of the month?”

I even allowed myself the fantasy of having Jessica in the house with me at that moment, doing something my mate seldom does – like emptying the dishwasher.

Even when I fantasized of Jessica doing housework and holding down a job, I decided I’d much rather have my wife with me at that moment doing neither.

The truth is we can never compete with the fancy of photographic fiction, the miracle of youth, good lighting and such. But the likes of Maurice and Jessica can’t win the war over love, trust and respect that can only come with years, joys and challenges of a relationship.

On the other hand, a little harmless fantasy can spice up a romance. I recently found a Web site where you can download videos of young gals filling out job applications and emptying dishwashers.

Many thanks to Monte and “Alpine Bail Bonds” without whose calendar this column would not have been possible.

Jeffrey Bergeron, under the alias of Biff America, can be seen on RSN TV, heard on KOA radio, and read in several newspapers and magazines. He can be reached at

Biff’s book “Steep, Deep and Dyslexic” is available from local book stores or at

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