Tim Allen - Don't Stand Too Close to a Naked Man

Good thing the first offense is only a misdemeanor, though I hear that if you cut off three prongs you're out.

I've never clipped the ears off the big‑sided prong. I bought a grinder to do that.

Q:What else would you like to improve around the house besides the plugs?

A:I wish the home's control center was more visible. I want more access to plumbing. And electrical wiring shouldn't be quite so hidden. My house wouldn't be real pleasant to look at; it would seem more like a submarine than a home, but I think there's a way you make the mechanics of the house more functional and still live with it.

I told the guy who's building a house for me my concerns. He said, "I can make this look like an office building if you want."

Yeah, that's just what I meant.

Q:You're so manly. What are you really good at around the house?

A:Mostly just hanging pictures. It's good work, a steady job. I use a hammer, and on special occasions a level. It's real exciting.

Q:Do you mind it when complete strangers ask you for home improvement advice?

A:A pilot did once. He knew I was on the flight and he came back to the passenger section from the cockpit. I saw him and my first thought was "Oh god. Please let the autopilot be on." Then he stared at me for a few seconds, trying to make up his mind about something, and I thought, "No, don't let him tell me that there's only one guy aboard who can land this 757, and that would be me."

Finally, he sat down, and from the corner of his mouth he said, "If my stucco went all the way down to the foundation and I was getting a leak, would I. ." I cut him off. Then I said, "What would you do?" Letting him figure things out for himself was my best option since I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

- -

When it comes to more power, you can always find it on late‑night infomercials. And it's always something we've never heard about before in America but is supposed to be really huge in Europe.

If it's so great, why haven't we heard of it? And how come they're reduced to selling it with infomercials? How come the retail stores aren't lining up to get their hands on the newest miracle product? Is the phrase "not available in stores" something that is supposed to entice me? Is it better if it's available on the street corner? How come I'm supposed to always beware of imitations? How come they're always limited time offers? No wonder I have anxious bowel syndrome.

This reminds of the Psychic Hot Line, also advertised via infomercial. "Want to know the future, call the hot line. Your own personal psychic is waiting for your call." Yeah, right. When I call, I never tell them my name. Let them tell me! Most infomercials rely on the Boxcar Willie syndrome. He's huge in Europe but no one's ever heard of him here. I don't even know who he is! But if all of Europe (and remember, Hungary and Bulgaria are also part of Europe) is wild about a car wax that protects your car's finish so well that you can light a fire on the hood and leave no marks, you've got to wonder if we've even been talking to Europe lately. Phone lines down? Have we not communicated with these people for months at a time?

Here's what I think. In Europe, the infomercials say the product is bigger than Moses in America. And the truth is that we have warehouses full of some crap we bought in Taiwan and can't get rid of.

The last time I bought anything by mail was from the Sears catalog. I could trust them. But now the catalog is gone. Too bad, since they had everything in there, including beekeeping equipment. Sounds just like a company that kept good tabs on their customers' needs.

Actually, I did buy one tool from a TV ad. I've never taken it out of the box, though. So does that count? From what I could see on the infomercial, the thing is a wonderful tool, so practical it has a thousand and one uses-but I've never been able to get it out of the box. Guess I need one of those tools to help. I hear it gets into tight places that no screwdriver could ever fit.

My favorite is the magical lubricant that the hucksters spray on the sparkplugs and distributor cap of a running engine. Then they turn a fire hose on the engine. Most engines will stop dead if you drive through a puddle fast enough. But this thing just kept running.

How come we don't know about this? Has anybody told the drivers at Indy? Hell, I'm going to call NASA myself.

- -

Real men get really dirty, and they need something strong to clean up with. I like Lava soap, the soap for men. Lava can wash those grease‑stained palms and hairy arms and filthy fingernails. There's also Go‑Jo, that cream auto mechanics use. Wipe it on-you don't need water-and wipe it off with a rag. I think it works by removing the top layer of skin. Yet it's easy on your hands because it's made with lanolin. I know lanolin comes from sheep. (Do sheep know lanolin comes from sheep?) I think Go‑Jo, is made from the whole animal ground up. It's full of oil and it's got a really bad odor. But it works, and with an ounce of imagination, it makes you feel like a real mechanic. Go‑Jo will take off anything, including chrome. It also works wonders making French fries.

- -

Jerky, from a cow, a buffalo, even a turkey, is nature's most perfect food. Beef jerky is a grown‑up's V‑8 juice. It makes you feel like a real cowboy. I reach for my jerky when I want something not sweet but substantial. Which reminds me of a story.

I once met a guy in a club in Texas who had shot a boar. Shooting it was illegal, but he said it had come after his dog. It was probably more like "Honey, let the dog out now, okay?"

Once it was good and dead, he brought the boar to the club, wrapped in towels. Why he'd want to use his wife's nice red towels to wrap a boar, I don't know, but from the look on his face when he slapped it down on the table, it was clear that if I didn't eat some, he'd think I was a puss, and he'd slap me. "You want a bite of it now? It's a fine taste."

"Uh-yeah. Sure."

And I ate it. It was possibly the finest taste I'd ever had in my life. I was rolling it around in my mouth when he looked me straight in the eye and said, "You don't think I'd bullshit an entertainer, do you?"

My first thought was that he was just waiting for me to fall to the ground and hold my stomach so that he could say, "I hate guys like you."

And now excuse me a second.

"Honey, let the dog out now."

- -

The Victoria's Secret catalog is one of the finest modern‑day examples of men's stuff. Why some people think it's women's stuff, I don't know.

Men are very different around women than they are around themselves. Imagine four guys-with their wives-looking at the Victoria's Secret catalog.

"That would look good on you, honey."

"That's a nice uh. . what do you call that thing?"

"A camisole."

"Yeah. Yeah. It's you, honey. How about if we order that?"

"How sweet! Give me your credit card."

Now: four guys by themselves:

"Wow. What I could do with her."

"Wish my wife looked like that."

"That bustier is tighter than my. . oh, oh, here come the girls. Honey, hi. Isn't this a great look?"

"Just give me your credit card and I won't say another thing." The Victoria's Secret catalog revolution happened quickly and quietly. It just took off. No Morality First groups complained about its being too sexy or pornographic like some other magazines. It goes through the U.S. mails without a hassle. Every guy knows the models' names by heart. This is one reason that men, no matter how much they hate shopping with their wives or girlfriends, are always willing to make an exception and stop by the Victoria's Secret store at the mall. Never seem to feel sleepy there.