Barry Smith: Irrelativity

Barry Smith
The Aspen Times
Aspen, CO Colorado
Jordan Curet The Aspen Times
ALL | The Aspen Times

“When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.”

So the saying goes. But why settle for merely making lemonade when there are so many other possibilities?

When life hands you lemons …

* Cut them in half and squeeze the stinging, citrus pulp into the eyes of those who would dare to mock, threaten or oppose you.

* When life is finished handing them to you, quickly toss them back, hitting life squarely in the chest. Yell, “You touched ’em last!” Then run away.

* Say, “Lemons? For me? Cool. Can I have some more?” Life will comply, as it is eager to give you lemons. When it does, exclaim, “Hey, everybody, look at all these lemons! I’m the luckiest man alive!” Life will eventually become bored with its game of handing you lemons, since you obviously aren’t going to play along, and will go off to find someone else to mess with.

* Stick shards of broken, colored glass in them, douse them with a bodily fluid of your choice and suspend them from lengths of rusty chain. Give each newly altered lemon a different title, like “Conscience Resolution,” or “The Indifference of the Soul.” Hire a PR firm to get them displayed in a Soho art gallery. Take the art world by storm.

* Just like everything else, tweet about it – @life#lemonhanding

* Go online to and check out pictures of people doing things you never even imagined to themselves, and each other, with lemons. Feel a little bit better about yourself.

* Make lemonade. Add vodka. Drink. Invite life over for a BBQ. Declare that “life ishn’t scho bad after all.”

* Use them, along with some household white glue, to construct a medium-sized pyramid. Form a religion based around this structure and its inspirational and healing powers, with yourself as the charismatic leader. Draft a doctrine which places an emphasis on the redeeming qualities of giving and selflessness. Enjoy your tax-free status.

* Lemon fight!

* Simply refuse to sign for them. Life’s lemons can’t be delivered without an authorized signature.

* Just as life is handing you the last lemon, you should “accidentally” drop it. When life bends over to pick it up, give life a major wedgie. Run away (without the lemons, of course).

* Pack them with a postal shipment whose smell you wish to disguise.

* Accept them graciously, so as not to cause life to suspect you of anything. Then when life is at the grocery store buying more lemons, find out where it parked and stick a few lemons in life’s exhaust pipe.

(Next time: What is a bird in the hand REALLY worth …?)

Barry Smith’s column appears Mondays in The Aspen Times. See more at