Ask Rachel

Dear Rachel,

My family lives in the Midwest, and every summer they expect me to schlep my kids across the country for an exorbitant amount of airfare. All to do what? Visit the world’s largest ball of twine and eat my weight in curly fries and cheese curds. No offense to my loved ones and homeland, but I’d rather spend that money and hard-earned time off doing something fun, and, god forbid, maybe even getting a little exercise. (And no, going to the mall a workout does not make.) How do I get them to understand there’s a reason I left the muggy farmlands in the first place – and better yet, convince them to visit here instead?

– No Place Like Home

Dear Dorothy,

I never ate cheese curds as a kid, and look how I turned out. Maybe it’s better for your children’s wellbeing to experience a Juicey Lucy once in a while. As for yourself, the philosophers say you can never go home again. Try telling your family that, and then ship the kids off to Wisconsin or Iowa or wherever you’re from for the summer. Promise, the airfare will be worth your stay-at-home freedom.

– You want curds with that, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

When my parents got divorced 30 years ago, they split the family photos, and my dad just threw his all out. For about 29 years now, I thought he was a real putz. But now, when I look around my home, I’m starting to feel over-burdened by sentimentality. I don’t actually need to keep old photographs and birthday cards to show that I love my family, do I? Like Dad, can’t I get rid of all these things with emotional impunity?

– Clearing House

Dear Cleansing Purge,

Wow, you’re the second question in a row to use a Yiddish word. First schlep, now putz. (If you’re seeing “putz” in print, by the way, it means the editor didn’t look up its real meaning in The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, like I did... via Wikipedia.) Basically, here’s my advice, for this question and all of life: don’t be a putz.

– Putzing around, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

Whatever happened to the sewage spill on the south side of town? For days, the highway was clogged (with cars, thank all things holy) and I tried to hold my breath driving through. Then suddenly, the road’s clear. Are we supposed to believe the problem is gone? How screwed (again) is the river this time?

– Sick of This Crap

Dear Plumber’s Helper,

I’m sorry; you didn’t use a Yiddish word in your question, so you don’t get a real answer. I will tell you thatthere used to be signs in Durango bathrooms – I forget where I learned this – that said, “Flush twice, there’s a drought in Aztec.” Thank goodness we’re not such schmucks anymore. And speaking of schmucks, dear God, Yiddish as a language sure has an obsession with that thing.

– Schmucking putzes, Rachel