Comprobatio (com-pro-ba’-ti-o): Approving and commending a virtue, especially in the hearers.
You are all too good to be true. Aunt Sally, your work with delinquents is commendable. Ed, your skill as a surgeon has saved hundreds of lives. And Aunt Edna, what can I say? Your Pulitzer Prize winning book “Shake, Rattle, Roll” has given us insight into the origins, history and social significance of Craps. The chapter “Whose bones do we roll?” could stand alone as a masterpiece in its own right, deserving of widespread recognition.
Today is Thanksgiving and we should give thanks for all the wonderful, accomplished, talented and compassionate people here at the table. That is, all the people except for my brother Edsel.
Named for a car that was mocked the moment it came off the assembly line, Edsel has been a loser and a burden on our family ever since he was born. My mother, God rest her soul, wouldn’t admit it, but we always thought that Edsel’s father was the guy who picked his nose in church and farted: Herbert “Hungman” Bush. Whenever we mentioned Herbert, mother would blush and drive away in the car, burning rubber, which was uncharacteristic of her. Dad would just tamp down his pipe and light it again for the tenth time, shake his head, clench his fist, and go back to reading “Outdoor Life” magazine.
And here you are, sitting at the table, Edsel. We had to put the house up as collateral for your weekend furlough from Beauregard Culver State Prison, named after the Confederate sharpshooter who served as Booth’s backup at Ford’s Theatre. Your crime spree across Florida earned you a lot of attention, plus 8 to 10 years behind bars for robbery. No one ever thought that stealing bicycles was worth it. You didn’t even have a pickup truck! Stuffing them one at a time into the back seat of your Ford Taurus must’ve slowed you down. You got caught when you donated one of your stolen bikes to the PBA Charity Bike Drive, an annual event where people donate their used bikes to charity. You gave away a $1,000 bike in nearly new condition. It took the cops five minutes to track it down, and they nabbed you right on the spot.
Edsel was a loser right from the start. He stayed back twice in the second grade and swore at his teachers. Nobody could ever figure out where he learned the swear words. Personally, I thought it was Herbert, but there was no way I could prove it. Dad, I remember when you nicknamed Edsel “Bastard Freak,” but most of the time you just called him “Freak” or “Bastard.”
Anyway Edsel (aka Bastard Freak), even though you’re a total loser and a disgrace to the family, here you are sharing a Thanksgiving meal with your family, who has considered disowning you countless times.
I’m holding a box of rat poison here, and would really appreciate it if you would let me sprinkle two heaping spoonfuls on your cranberry sauce while I say grace: “Dear Lord I beseech thee to motivate Edsel to eat the rat poison and come home to your loving arms. Amen.” Edsel tentatively took a little taste.
Everybody laughed as Edsel spit out the rat poison and ran to the kitchen to rinse out his mouth. When the water shut off we heard him stomp down the hall and out the front door. Everybody cheered and started eating. I ran after Edsel. I didn’t want to risk losing our house by losing him. I found Edsel sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette. He asked me if it was really rat poison that I had put on his cranberry sauce. I said “No.” I lied.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.
The Daily Trope 