‘Dirty Jobs’: Hey, Mike,
it’s a colon callin’

Robyn’s Hood
By Robyn McCloskey

My favorite show on The Discovery Channel is Dirty Jobs, hosted by the affable Mike Rowe, who one can only assume lives by the motto never say never.
If you’ve ever seen the show, you might find it hard to believe that this easygoing, willing-to-try-anything-once kind of a guy used to be a singer with the Baltimore Opera.
I mean, here’s a guy who has artificially inseminated horses. Plucked golf balls from alligator-infested waters. He’s even determined the sex of chickens. Dirty Jobs, I hope, at least gives him health and dental benefits.
Rowe also used to host San Francisco’s locally produced talk-show Evening Magazine, which was canceled shortly after the personable Mr. Rowe moved on to greener — or was that muddier? — pastures. He also used to sell millions of dollars of "simulated" diamonds on QVC, the shop-at-home program, all of which is just a small part of his large resume.
The guy gets around. But I think it is his good-natured way, his willingness to laugh at himself, that makes Dirty Jobs such a hit. And he’s obviously not afraid to get his hands dirty while sharing the spotlight and singing the praises of the unsung heroes in our society, the good men and women of America who toil away at jobs that make our lives easier.
Plus he’s pretty easy on the eyes . . . when he’s not covered in poo, that is. But it does seem that poo is something Mike Rowe is an expert about. The show’s Web site lists "Rowe-isms," favorite quotes sent by viewers. Interestingly enough, the overwhelming theme of these Rowe one-liners involves poo. For example:
I really expected hippo poo to be much more horrifying.
I’m riding a veritable poo factory.
We’re just a couple of guys squeezing the poo out of chickens.
A man who deliberately covers himself in poo is not sexy.
Forget hoof-and-mouth disease, I’m going to get poo-in-mouth disease.
So, you’re a poo man?
As you can see, the guy knows his poo.
Typically, at the end of every show, Mike asks viewers to send ideas for upcoming episodes, especially new and unexplored territory for Dirty Jobs. Places to go where few men have gone before.
Which leads me to an idea submission. A friend recently told me of an interesting procedure she’d just willingly endured. Willingly is the italicized word here, only because I’m not sure I would have endured this experience even while heavily medicated.
It began with my friend’s New Year’s resolution, which was to get the poo (that’s not the word she chose, but this is a family-friendly newspaper) out of her life, literally and figuratively. The figurative she is accomplishing with the help of a therapist; the literal, with the power of a colonic.
Since I wasn’t sure what a colonic is, she took it upon herself to explain to me in grave detail the entire 45-minute procedure. Now that’s a good friend.
She said the time went by quickly as she and the nurse discussed the varying colors of poo that passed through the viewing tube.
You heard me right, there’s a viewing tube. Apparently it is imperative to note the color, so in case you ate anything unseemly in your life, it can be duly noted that it has indeed passed.
In fact, the nurse went on to tell my friend about another client who, as a child, swallowed a hot pink Barbie shoe. What a sigh of relief for all when a flash of neon plastic pumps finally passed through the tube some 20-odd years later.
Believe me, you can’t make this stuff up.
And that got me thinking. I’m really thinking of sending this information to the powers-that-be at Dirty Jobs to see if they’d be interested in doing a show on colonics. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t faze Mike Rowe. In fact, he probably would have rinsed off the Barbie shoe and proudly displayed it before the camera for all to see.
Hey, it’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it. And as long as it’s Mike Rowe, I’ll stay tuned, and that’s no bull . . . .
Well, you know. ••
Robyn McCloskey’s column appears each week in the Northeast Times. She can be reached at crmccloskey@verizon.net