Ray St. Louis
4/18/02
BETWEEN THE LINES
Where I live, the male members of the community have an all-purpose surefire excuse that never fails
to help one or another of us out of a tight spot. The excuse is “I smell propane.”
Here’s how it works: one of the female members of the community has just returned from a shopping
trip to the flea market and has brought home a thoroughly hideous piece of lawn art, let’s say a
painted plywood cutout of a fat lady bending over picking vegetables.
She pulls the monstrosity out of the pick-up in front of her mate who happens to be standing with a
group of his peers drinking beer. “Isn’t this cute, honey?” she says. “Wouldn’t this look nice in the
little garden in front of the house next to the rhododendrons?”
This, of course, is the moment when the male member of the couple pulls out the all-purpose surefire
excuse and says, “I smell propane.” The male member now has a compelling reason to abruptly pull
himself out of the conversation and run away behind a shed or a garage. He doesn’t have time to
stand around and chit-chat about lawn ornaments; he’s got a propane leak to deal with.
It’s one that my male friends and I have tested and seems always to work regardless of the situation.
She says, “Does this dress make me look fat?” You say, “I smell propane.”
She says, “How do you like my roast? I didn’t let it get too dried out, did I?” You say, “I smell propane.”
She says, “Honey, my sister got evicted. Can she come stay with us for a month? You know, the one
who has 17 cats and thinks she was abducted by aliens?” You say, “I smell propane.”
Like I said, the expression is one that my buddies and I have had excellent results with. I now turn it
over to all my male readers as a gift. Consider it one little secret weapon for your dealings with the
opposite sex. Lord knows they have plenty they use when dealing with us.
Of course, one has to guard against using the all-purpose surefire excuse too often or it loses its
power. If you’re smelling propane six or eight times a day, the spouse is going to smell something
herself: a rat.
She’s going to conclude you’re either a liar or a lousy handyman, in which case she’s probably going
to call in a $50-per-hour professional, who won’t find a propane leak, and then she’ll know you’re a
liar, and now you’re out fifty bucks.
Way I figure, everyone in every walk of life needs their own all-purpose surefire excuse for getting out
of tight spots. Kids have one; it’s “I don’t know.” As in “You wouldn’t have any idea how that lamp got
broken, would you?” or “Why does your principle want us to come in for a disciplinary meeting?”
Corrupt politicians have more than one. There’s “I don’t recall,” and then there’s the one they’ve had
to share lately with Enron executives: “I take the fifth.”
Golfers have several all-purpose excuses that they can pull out to explain a lousy score, like pulling
out a wedge or an iron or a wood. “I didn’t have my focus,” “My back started hurting,” “It was the
wind,” and “The greens keeper responsible for that pin placement should be shot,” to name just a few.
Of course, the most overused all-purpose excuse these days is the one certain powerful people in
Washington have been using to get whatever they want. They phrase it in different ways, but it boils
down to “It’ll help us beat the terrorists.”
“Is it really necessary for us to give permanent tax breaks to the rich at the expense of Medicare and
other social programs?”
“Well, yes; it’ll help us beat the terrorists.”
“Do we really need to rape the Alaskan wilderness for a relatively insignificant amount of oil?”
“Of course, it’ll help us beat the terrorists.”
And so it goes. If the Republicans continue going to the well with this one, hopefully the entire
American public will get suspicious.
Then, when they come around at election time asking for our votes, we can all smell propane.