Help A Poor Guy Out
A Geezer’s Notebook, By Jim Foster
I realize I am a bit late complaining about NCIS, about 17 years late as a matter of fact, but something has been bothering me about the series since 2003, it’s Jethro’s basement. To start with there is a boat down there he has been working on for 17 years and has yet to finish. I know, I know, I have been going to clean up my own basement for at least that long, but I am not on national TV, nor am I a marine or a bit of a stud. (Well I might be that last one – especially the ‘bit’ part.)
You know who I am talking about of course, that’s right, it’s Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Special Agent of NCIS, the Navy Criminal Investigation Service and the personification of the American hero. He is the John Wayne of our generation, well maybe not mine, mine was Gabby Hayes (for some of you geezers out there, Douglas Fairbanks Jr.). Jethro is everything a woman could ever want, with his own hair and a net worth of $90 million. But he has a failing and it’s a biggie, he cannot build a boat to save his soul. Now that cooled you ladies down didn’t it? Any jerk should be able to build a boat. Whether or not it will float is another matter.
He has been fiddling about down there forever and his masterpiece doesn’t look any further along than it did in 2003. Of course he does keep booze down there which may be one reason it’s taking so long. And his cupboard isn’t stocked with Doug Ford`s buck a beer stuff, he drinks good old Kentucky bourbon, a manly drink if there ever was one. One more thing, there doesn’t seem to be a door anywhere down there to get it out. I mean get it out if he ever finishes it, which is doubtful.
Years ago I wrote a serious article about Noah and his ark. He started it in his basement. Then after a few months his wife, Rose I think was her name, called down the cellar stairs, “Hey Sparky, how are you going to get that sucker out of there?” Noah just said “Poos”, or words to that effect, and moved the project out to the driveway.
But Jethro’s boat-building skills are not what I am concerned about; his basement seems to be about as private as Donald Trump`s Twitter account. Rarely does a night go by when some chick isn’t coming down the stairs. What I want to know is why is it every woman who has even worked for the CIA, NCIS, FBI, OSS or any other criminal investigation service in the United States can just open the door, march down the stairs like they own the place and chat up Jethro in his basement. Some, I suspect, even take him upstairs after a few passes with a belt sander and have their way with him. (I’m not talking about Googling a road map to Kalamazoo for him. If that is what you think, ask your wife to explain it to you.)
Does he ever lock his doors? Any terrorist off the street could just saunter in and shoot him. They have tried of course, but there is always some good-looking female agent coming down the stairs behind him who saves him. Then they take him upstairs and have their way with him. The poor guy never gets any sleep. Every time he opens his eyes there is another one standing beside his bed undoing her buttons. But we never have to worry the terrorists will get him. Why is that? Because the women of Canada and the United States would never stand for it. Leroy Jethro Gibbs is a babe magnet.
I have noticed that even my wife and the wives of my friends, all beautiful beyond belief, find him moderately attractive – Lord knows why. He sports a marine haircut, which is halfway between a Josh Donaldson and a Howie Meeker, and it’s gray or sometimes grey depending on which dictionary you are using. I’m gray, although this morning I was grey, but the ladies look at me as if I just wandered in from the Ozarks, and if I even suggested they might want to come down to basement they would sneer and even snort. Probably because Mary has already told them that all I want to do is con them into helping me clean up the basement. I am really not capable of much else.
