McCombs & Tanveer - 2 Reviews of "Just Make Me A Sammich"

Reviewed by Lisa McCombs for Readers’ Favorite

Have you ever wondered what makes women pushy and why men tolerate this behavior? Offended by the nomenclature of professional sports teams? In this delightfully entertaining read, columnist Don Ake shares passages from his popular blog that promise to amuse, infuriate, and often confuse the reader. Ake begins his blogging career with a seemingly innocent take on why women refuse to accommodate the male need for catering services, the immediate male need for sustenance. He grudgingly agrees that it is his responsibility to tend to the needs of his stomach, but in a typical male manner of selfish indulgence.

In Just Make Me A Sammich: Absurd Observations from a Wild Mind, Dan Ake shares his often criticized blog entries that range from highly sensitive issues to political satire to male bonding arguments. A very human touch is added with his daughter’s wedding plans that not only tug at the heartstrings, but incorporate his attempt at humor during a rather serious event.

I admire Ake’s blatant honesty and appreciate that his language is appropriate for readers of all ages. While shedding light on serious matters of life’s everyday events, Don Ake finds humor in the common and age old issues that we face every day. Just Make Me A Sammich is a fresh look at the relationship between men, women, children, and neighbors. Ake shares his own personal experiences in a fun debate in this collection of blog posts.

Reviewed by Rabia Tanveer for Readers’ Favorite

Just Make Me A Sammich: Absurd Observations From a Wild Mind by Don Ake is insanely funny, completely absurd, and downright amazing. It is a collection of essays that you can read out loud to your friends and enjoy. The book contains a wonderful range of funny, humorous, witty and absurd essays. I have to say, some of them were downright crazy, especially the one titled “She’s Always A Woman To Me.” Also, I really liked the fact that I got to see a preview of the essay before I read it. It gave me a context and kept my interest.

“The Smoking Hot Exemption Rule” and, oh boy, the whole “Celebrities Absurdities” chapter had me smiling the whole time I was reading and I think I even laughed so loudly, my mother asked me if I was okay. That said, I think you will have no doubt about the power of Ake’s writing. He has the ability to bring up the toughest of topics and still keep you laughing and smiling through it. This is a lethal talent and he is using it to the best of his abilities and in all the right ways. I think I will be reading this book even years from now because it is that good. Ake’s wit, charm, and intelligence just make this book that much better than your average humorous novel or book. I loved the cover!

Please buy my new humor book - Just Make Me A Sammich http://donake.net/just-make-me-a-sammich-book

I Should Have Played Pokémon Go Instead

I wanted to join in on this Pokémon craze, so I got out my iPhone, the iPhone6, and searched for the app. But then my eyes lit up when I noticed this new game. This one appeared to be the greatest game ever created by mankind.  I then enthusiastically downloaded Sammichmon Go! and couldn’t wait to start playing.

In Sammichmon Go, a specific type of sammich appears on the screen. You then go to various locations around the city collecting the ingredients for this particular sammich. You score points for getting each ingredient, but then you must locate a “sammich-making spot” where someone will make you that sammich. You score mega-points for the finished sammich and then of course, you get to eat it.  The motto for this game is “Gotta eat them all”.  I love this game!

My first sammich was a basic turkey on rye.  I raced around and collected everything and then located the sammich-making spot. I burst through the doors and exclaimed “Make me a sammich!” just as my screen instructed.

I did notice the sign outside the room that said “AAF”. I assumed it had something to do with the American Air Force.  Regretfully, it stood for American Association of Feminists and these women were not inclined to make me my sammich. In fact, they became rather agitated at the request.  Fortunately, even though they were feminists, they still hit like girls.  Unfortunately, they didn’t throw like girls.  As I made my escape, they pelted me with all the stuff.  Sadly, I did not collect my mega-points on this one.

But then suddenly a delicious cheeseburger appeared on the screen.  I gathered everything and ran into the next sammich-making spot yelling “Cheeburga, cheeburga, cheeburga”, in my best John Belushi voice, just as it said on the screen. I thought that a Hindu temple was a strange place to do this, but I needed the points and getting lots of points playing this game is extremely important, right?

The Hindus didn’t react any better than the feminists, but they did hit harder, which I didn’t think Hindus were supposed to do. I ran out of there with no cheeburga, no chips and no bonus points.

This game was much more difficult than I ever imagined, as I failed with the veal cutlet sammich at the PETA office, the BLT at the Muslim hall and the ham sammich at the Jewish Center. I also failed to achieve a foot-long at the strip club. Although two of the ladies were eager to make me a sandwich without using any of stuff I brought. They claimed they would be the bread, if I tipped them well.

Since I was failing miserably at the sammich portion of the game, I decided to try to score points my acquiring, nookagoochi, a tangy sandwich spread, that when added to your sammich, earns you triple, yes I said triple, bonus points!  You get so many points for this because the game says “good nookagoochi is hard to find!” The spread comes in three flavors: Sweet, Spicy, and Hot.

The game app directed me to the local health club and indicated some nookagoochi was in the women’s locker room.  Normally I wouldn’t have gone in, but I think Obama said it was now okay, so I channeled my inner Caitlyn Jenner and confidently marched through the door. I startled a woman who looked like a Ronda Rousey wannabe. She asked me what I was doing and I answered “I’m looking for some sweet nookagoochi!”  She then threatening to do something to me that would allow me to use the women’s facilities on a permanent basis.  I was fairly certain that she did not hit like a girl, so I quickly ran to the lobby.

Unfortunately, the club manager had summoned the cops.  I explained to the policewoman that I was just playing Sammichmon Go. She was very understanding and released me with just a warning. Everything would have been fine except that when I walked outside my phone started buzzing and the screen indicated there was a large jar of nookagoochi only a few feet away!

“Officer, can you give me some of that hot nookagoochi in the back seat of your squad car?” I asked enthusiastically.  After a phone call to my attorneys, Duckem, Buckham and Fucarelli, and paying a fine, I was back in search of tangy nookagoochi.

The game app then sent me to the local convent and instructed me to ask, “Sisters, who here wants to give me some spicy nookagoochi?  The nuns explained that I must be mistaken, because there was no nookagoochi there.  They said they would pray for me. Well, prayers are nice, sisters, but they don’t score me any points, do they?  I need points, lots of points, because ah, um, well, I just do.

I also struck out at the gay bar. Okay, let me rephrase that. The app was wrong again, no nookagoochi in the whole place!

I was about to quit my search when my phone started buzzing again directing to a young woman on the corner who was obviously dressed for the summer heat.  She said should would be glad to provide some sweet nookagoochi, but I would have to pay for it.  I told her I thought she should give it to me for free. An argument ensued, and unfortunately that same policewoman appeared to restore order.

Now I’m sitting in jail and my attorney is not returning my calls.  I am strongly considering deleting the Sammichmon Go app from my phone.  I was trying to play this game, but I think the game may have been playing me instead.

Please buy my new humor book - Just Make Me A Sammich http://donake.net/just-make-me-a-sammich-book

  

Marriage Is All About Hot Sex And Sammiches

A long-time friend and my first softball coach, Bob Myers, passed away recently.  His obituary said he was known for his intellect and wise council. And while many obits inflate a person’s attributes, those words accurately describe Bob.  The word “integrity” never appears, but I think it probably should have.

Bob was an interesting man, so I have three stories to share (hint: the third story is the real reason for this post)

Story 1

I was writing an article for a college journalism course about the tragic shootings at Kent State University (May 4, 1970).  Bob heard me discussing this at a softball game and told me he was actually there as a member of the Ohio National Guard.  He gave me his perspective of what it was like being in that difficult situation. 

But then he told me something supremely interesting.  There is an iconic photograph (except I cannot find it anywhere on the Internet) of a hippie chick sticking a flower in the rifle of a guardsman as he stands cordoning off part of the campus. (there was also a TV commercial that reenacted this event.)  Bob told me he was the guardsman in that photo.  Now if most of my goofball friends, especially my good pal TV journalist Brian Williams, would have told me this, I would have laughed it off. But if Bob said it, I believe him.

Story 2

Bob was pitching in a softball game, when some bizarre argument started between him and the batter.  From my position in short-center field (maybe 20 feet from second base) I could tell there was a conflict, but I couldn’t understand what was being said. Suddenly the hitter dropped his bat and took a couple steps toward Bob.

Instinctively, I started to trot in to the infield.  Bob was a little guy, maybe 5’6” on a good day, and a few years older than most of us.  I was the biggest guy on our team and I was not about to let someone pick on our coach.  Well this goof-head may have wanted a piece of little Bob, but he wanted no part of me.  Which was a great thing since I really didn’t want to fight him, I mean this was church softball, after all.  So the dude picked up his bat and the game resumed.

After the game Bob explained to us what the dispute was all about.  I revealed to him, I had jogged into the infield and would have protected him if necessary.  He then looked at me with utter disdain and said:

“If he would have come at me, I was prepared to kick him in the head”

This statement was so ludicrous that we tried not to laugh, but we did all look at Bob incredulously.  Then Bob explained:

“I am a trained master in the martial arts. I would have kicked him right in the head.  But it wouldn’t have hurt him.  He may have blacked out for a couple seconds, but he would have been fine” (I mean this was church softball, after all)

Again, I wouldn’t have believed most other people making this statement.  But then I did remember during the incident that Bob had quickly flipped his glove off, stood his ground, and assumed a position that one sees often in a Bruce Lee movie.  Yes, my actions had prevented someone from getting a major butt-whipping – but that person wasn’t Bob. 

Story 3

My bachelor dinner had ended and the guests were leaving.  Bob walked over and motioned for me to bend down because apparently he had something important to tell me.

He said, “If you don’t think about getting divorced more than three times the first year, you are doing well”.

I looked at him skeptically, my jaw dropping.  He just nodded, flashed a wry smile, said “Good luck” then quickly departed.

I was completely and utterly dumbstruck.  This was the most ridiculous advice anyone had ever given to me.  Think about divorce?  No, my marriage was going to be a blissful experience filled with hot sex and sammiches. And maybe even both together -  after some tantric sex, I might be hungry and my wife would then make me a delicious sammich. Oh yeah, this would be nirvana.

Hot sex and sammiches! Hot sex and sammiches! Maybe even good sex and hot sammiches, it didn’t matter.  Marriage was going to be totally wonderful. I’m not ever going to think about divorce, especially the first year – no way, no how, not gonna do it!  Maybe somebody else, but definitely not me.

A very hot and sloppy sammich!

I wondered why Bob would say something that preposterous.  However, he had recently completed his first year of marriage, so he did have some credibility.   But his wife Julie was such a sweet, quiet, gentle, woman, I couldn’t even imagine Bob having any problems in his marriage. But nope, this did not apply to me. Hot sex and sammiches! Hot sex and sammiches! That’s how it’s going to be.

I believe it was somewhere around the fourth month of blissfulness that my wife did something that really fizzed me off.  Of course I have no idea what it was. Maybe I was hungry and she claimed she was too tired to make me a ---- well you get the idea.  But whatever, it was totally unacceptable. I can’t believe she did that, I fumed. This behavior is just terrible and if it continues, I want a divor……  Oh my, suddenly I remembered what Bob Myers had said.  But this was only one time and it probably was just a fluke, so I still thought he was crazy.

And then it happened again during the seventh month.  All right, the first time wasn’t just a fluke, maybe Bob is on to something after all.  But still it’s only twice.  If my wife wouldn’t keep doing stupid stuff to fizz me off, this wouldn’t even be an issue.

However, I was alarmed the third time it occurred, in month eleven.  Oh my gosh, Bob actually did know what he was talking about.  I realized I had exhausted my limit and still had around six weeks to go. Fortunately, I made it to the one-year anniversary with a “three count” which meant I was doing well! And Bob was correct, because my marriage is still going. (and Bob’s marriage lasted also).

I must state that my wife had a much more difficult time during the first year of marriage than I did (if you read this blog regularly, you know I am stating the obvious.)  I admit that I can be difficult to live with. Heck, sometimes I don’t like living with myself.  For my wife to keep an accurate count of how many times I fizzed her off that first year, she would have needed one those clickers designed for counting golf strokes.  And I think I finished over par for the year.  If Bob would have given my wife advice before the wedding, he would have pointed to the door and said “Run that way, and don’t stop until you hit the state line”.

Therefore, I believe Bob’s rule is highly accurate.  However, I’m thinking with the changes in society over the many years since he developed the rule, that maybe we can add a fourth time due to inflation.  So the Myers-Ake newlywed rule is this: “If you don’t think about getting divorced more than four times the first year of marriage, you are doing well”.  As it is written, so shall it be done.

Please buy my new humor book - Just Make Me A Sammich http://donake.net/just-make-me-a-sammich-book