Thursday, June 9, 2011

Catching up with the Past

I have spent a far amount of time lately, connecting with friends from high school, on Facebook.  It has been fun to get in touch with girls, most of whom, the last time I saw, were in their teens, women who are now 6 years away from drawing social security benefits.  Naturally, I want to look at recent photos of them, to see who has become more 'voluptous' or 'zaftig' like me. I had a conversation with my nephew, Carson, before I left Florida and came home last week. I had to explain the difference in raw bony, (like his Mama), and voluptuous, (like me, soft, and cuddly). While I'm very pleased on the days that I can get in a pair of size 12 jeans, I'm just as happy on the days that I wear cut off bottoms to sweat pants and a tshirt, and lay around the house all day, like today.

 Angie started reeling off a list of things she wanted me to do today. I acted like I was asleep when she left this morning. Does the outside storage room need to be cleaned out more today, then it did, 3 months ago, when I went to Florida, when the weather was much cooler? Do I really give a damn about what is in there, in the first place?  I had a friend who lived in Savannah, she made a statement that has become my testimony in past months. Heather famously remarked "she didn't want any more shit than she could have loaded up in her car and be on the road in 30 minutes time".  I had the opportunity to be at a cocktail party on Turner's Rock 8 years ago, with Heather, and her on again/off again lover of the past
35 years.  Louie looked at on the crowd of women and said to Heather " I bet I have made love to 75% of the women here" Heather quickly replied " Yeah, but I bet it was only once". She was quick, clever, and well traveled. Heather suffered a massive stroke, and spent the last few months of her life in a nursing home. I  like to think she had no control of her mind. How said it would have been to have a brilliant mind, trapped in a dying body.

I've been giving away things for years. Angie is always scolding me about giving away things that she wants. Angie owns a house twice the size of mine, my thoughts are, if she wants them, all she she to do is take them. Same thing goes for my son, my nieces, nephews, cousins, etc.  I did pack up almost 100 books today to take to the Good Will. If I really love a book, I will re-read it over and over. I collect books from Southern authors, some whom I have had the good fortune to become friends, such as Rosemary Daniell, Lauretta Hannon, Hollis Gillespie, and others of reputable note. Others are by legends like Faulkner, Truman Capote, Tennessee Williams, Eudora Welty, Ferrol Sams, and other literary giants. I also collect cook books, I must have close to 400 by now. I love reading them. I haven't cooked in quite awhile, as a matter of fact, Angie told me last night our oven has been on the blink since Christmas. (another thing she has put on the list, call Wesley at Town's and see when he came come out and fit it).

While visiting St Simons a few years ago, my friend Karen and I stopped at an Estate Sale. A lovely woman who was clearly in her 70's was selling beautiful silver serving pieces, incredible table linens, including hand tatted cocktail napkins (you don't see those everyday). I asked about the cocktails napkins, and was told the seller's unmarried old aunts had handmade them for her when she was a young bride." Why would you get rid of an heirloom like this" I asked. "My two children are  boys, both are married to complete bitches, I have four of the most ungrateful grandchildren ever to be conceived, and to speak frankly, (like she wasn't already), I would rather wipe my dog's ass with them, then to see them go to any of my family".  I bought the cocktail napkins, not because I thought I would get much use out of them, but because I loved the story that came with them.  I also bought great sterling derby cups, and a few silver trays. The derby cups and the silver trays are still in the bag I brought them home in, unpolished and in the storage room. A great story didn't accompany them.  I'll get around to polishing them, it's just not on the top, middle or near the bottom of my list. 

I didn't inherit any items from my grandparents. All were hardworking people, who dearly loved their families, but had few worldly things to leave.  I was in an antique shop in Waynesboro, Georgia about 10 years ago, and bought a beautiful set of English china from the 1920's. The reason I bought it was due to the way it was marketed, a huge sign read "My Grandmother's wedding china".  It's  now in my condo in Atlanta. I have never used it, but, I do have two plates hanging on the wall, when asked about it, I have the stock reply "it was my Grandmother's wedding china". Now, you know the rest of the story, kinda like Paul Harvey.

Stay tuned tomorrow, same time, same station.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Hooker at Breakfast

Since I have been staying down in Florida, I have had plenty of opportunities to engage in one of my favorite pastimes.  People Watching.   Put me in a crowded restaurant or mall and I'll be completely happy for hours.  I've always heard simple minds are easily occupied. 

My baby brother, Dan and I were having breakfast this week. About the time the hostess showed us to our seats, in comes a couple that looked totally out of place for a breakfast joint, prior to 8:00 am. (Dan had on work- out clothes, and I had on what I had slept in, a pair of capri stretch pants, a t-shirt with built in bra, a cap, and sunglasses. I'm still working that 'out of town and don't know many people' angle). The woman wore high stiletto heels, that could have used some polishing, a mini skirt from the 70's, which was about 6" below where I guessed her pubic hair would have stopped, as we age, everything drops and gets lower, a low cut shirt, showing way too much cleavage for morning time, (all of you girls remember the line from 'Gone With The Wind' about showing bosoms before lunch), Tammy Faye Bakker eye make-up from the night before, a fresh coat of pink gloss lipstick. I have one 'cast in stone' rule about lipstick, if it ain't red; you have wasted your money. Her hair was over processed and of an indescribable color. I can be quickly criticized for not dressing my age, her outfit made my closet look like that of a Victorian widow. Her entire demeanor screamed 'Hire me by the hour'. One thing about hookers, unless they're between mid teens to about 23, they all look the same (I watch a lot of late night TV). This old girl was a rough 60, if she was a day.

In the genre' of prostitution, I would call her  the 'Flea Market' variety, with Dollar Store, Wal-mart, Belk’s, Macy's, Saks, Neiman Marcus, etc being the advancing standard.  Dan and I, along with everyone else in our section, started staring at this couple.  Her companion was hanging onto every word she said, she was using graphic hand motions, waving her hands slightly above her head. You get the picture. 

Since it was the day after the space shuttle had been launched, Dan speculated that she was explaining all the necessary thrust needed to get the rocket off the pad and up in the air. "Who are you kidding" I said. "The only thing she has had in the air lately has been her ankles, and I'll wager the only kind of thrust she knows about is pelvic thrust".

All of a sudden, Dan get's all pious and says "for all we know, they have been married 40 years".  "Married people don't have that much to talk about" I said.
 "You're right" he said and quickly overcame his bout of pious.

It was like watching a car wreck, totally addictive. 

When the mystery couple got up and started to leave, she smiled and said "Good Morning" to all of us who had been staring at them, we were up to about 15 by then.

The very fact that she acknowledged us at all bears witness to what my brother, Ted, has always said. “I’ve never known an old whore that wasn't just as friendly as she could be".  Who am I to dispute, which I am reasonably sure is a well documented fact. It makes perfect sense, how are you going to sell anything without a positive outlook and a fine appreciation for your product, be it apples or ass. It's always a 'buyer's market' somewhere.

She was obviously smarter than most of us, in a cash- only business, where the customer always leaves happy. Nobody can bring back the product and try to return it.  I would assume it was a form of 'ménage' de trios' sex. The guy and the Federal government both get screwed. I'm be willing to bet no tax return is filed, and if she did, would she use a sliding scale to 'decrease the value' of her assets?  Since there is no paper trail, is her 'carbon footprint' less than ours?  If it's smarter to sit down than stand up, and lay down instead of sitting down, who is the dumbass now? No one I know has a job where you can lie down at work. Jethro Bodine was the only person I knew who has ever had a job as a mattress tester. 

I don't want to appear judgemental. I have friends from all walks of life.  Bartenders, bank presidents, doctors, lawyers, short order cooks, professional athletes, hair stylist, designers, drag queens, Senators, psychics, housekeepers, realtors, Congressmen, car salesmen, plumbers, painters, published authors, movie stars (jack walker) notary publics, retirees, waitresses, mechanics, ex-governors, and a few ex-cons, businessmen and bull shirt artist.  I love them every one. To my knowledge, I don't have any friends that apply the world's oldest profession, but I do have several who are self-proclaimed sluts. One of them is quick to say 'you have to decide if you're doing it for them, or doing it to 'em'.  Food for the thought.

Stay tuned, same time, same station.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Dan's Second Brain Surgery

I'm going to Florida next week. It's time for my baby brother Dan yearly surgery.  He likes me to go with him to his Doctor appointments and his many hospital stays because I asked the Doctors important questions like "do y'all serve cocktails here" or "did y'all give Dan a vasectomy while he was out?" and other    appertaint things to get Dan's mind off his latest medical procedure.  Last time he had surgery at Mayo, the room we were in had movies you could order, right there in the room, and also, excellent room service, and better than average food, but no cocktail service.

Once when Dan was in the hospital in Dublin, for goiter surgery, Steve Graham, our cousin was in the room with me when they brought Dan back from surgery. The nurses said that Dan had awful stomach gas, (we have discussed Dan's eating habits previously, so all of you who have read my blogs know of Dan's digestive problems).  Steve asked the nurses if they could just put Dan outside until his gas passed.  They thought it was a good idea, but said it was against hospital policy.  Dan had goiter surgery, and had a huge bandage on his neck. Steve and I quickly decided it would be best to down play the size of the bandage, so when Dan woke up and wanted to know how it looked, we both told him it was a very small incision. Our plan worked well until our brother, Tim, came in and asked Dan why had they cut his head half way off. 

Grahams like to have the following items with them at all times, flashlights, weapons, and drop cords.  Before they took Dan to surgery, I was going through his bag and found a 50' drop cord, personally, I had a 12' in my car, and when Steve showed up, he had  an industrial drop cord that looked like it was capable of running directly to Vogtle in Waynesboro, GA. Steve also had a generator on the back of his truck. Dan like knowing, before he goes into any surgery, that we have a back up plan, in case of a major power failure. 

I'm going to be with my family in Florida for about 6 weeks.  I am really looking forward to it, while Dan might be getting cut on, the trip is like a mini-vacation for me. I'll get to spend time with my two brothers and their families, and my first born. 

My niece, Mandi, came over last week, and brought my great nephews, Hunter, age 6 and Hayden age 3.  Hunter whispered to me that Hayden had said the 'F-word'.  'You don't mean it'  I said.  Hunter leaned over and whispered in my ear, 'Hayden said f-a-r-t.  Mama said he's supposed to say 'toot'. 

Stay tuned, same time, same station.


Friday, January 28, 2011

A 'Hare-rising' Experience

My daughter, Angie, who we  affectionately call 'Cupcake' wanted a small dog for Christmas. She  has 2 weimaraners. Rocket, the older of the two, we inherited from my son, Eric. Rocket has always been scared to death of bad weather,  had lived in the middle of Florida for 5 years, and  3 bad hurricanes just about did the ole' boy in. Rocket's life did not get off to a good start. When he was about 15 months old, he was ran over in our yard. This brought on the first of Rocket's  many surgeries, a $1200 hip.  About the time he recovered from the hip surgery, Rocket was in the front yard, around the pond. He was bitten by a water moccasin, causing his head to swell up to the size of a watermelon. After much anti-snake venom, and 2 weeks in Vet ICU, he was able to come home. Rocket is an old dog now, all he wants to do is eat on a very regular basis, sleep on his bed, and go outside on a short term basis (come to think of it, that's about all I want to do too). Considering all the past injuries (I just mentioned a few on a long list), the advanced arthritis, being blind, generally being old,  88 in dog years, Cupcake decided it was time to add to our canine family.  Since we have two weimaraners the size of  a Shetland pony, she thought a very small dog would be the best choice. She opted for a Shih Tzu, I think mostly because she liked that line in the Tim McGraw song that referred to a Shih Tzu hound.  Since I'm still not burdened by constant, of for that matter, any employment, I took it as a personal task to stay on Craig's List, and other sites, until I found the perfect puppy for her. I found a 7 week old brown male pup, the only white on him is his two front paws. Cupcake promptly feel in love with him, and he her. For those of you who are visual like I am, the size of the new pup is smaller than the piles the other two dogs deposit on the edge of the yard, get the picture?  Angie got busy about the business of 'potty-training' Jackson, and therein starts are story.  Jackson weighs 1lb, and will eventually gain up to 4 or 5 lbs, upon maturity.  Jackson was out in the yard, right by himself,  Tim (Angie's permanent finance' of the past 12 years, and  boyfriend of the past 17 years) went outside to check on Jackson. About the time Tim opened the door, two huge owls swooped down and attempted to invite Jackson to be 'meal time on the power line'. Tim shoo-ed the owls off, and now, when Jackson goes outside, Tim has to stand out there, with his gun, so he can kill anything that tries to snatch up Angie's puppy. 

Having pets taken by flying prey is not a new thing in my family. When my nephew, Jon, my brother Jim's son, was about 5, his mother bought him a rabbit around Easter time.  Jim said the rabbit had fleas, and powdered the rabbit up real good, with the same flea powder he put on his bird dogs. Come to find out, in the worst possible way, this stuff was too strong for rabbits. Jim put the rabbit under the carport, and sprinkled him down good, at which point, the rabbit, 'Hops-a-lot' took to having severe convulsions and died, deader than hell, right out there under the carport.  Jim's ex wife, and Jon's mother, Maribeth was fanatical about animals, so Jim jumped into plan 'b' which was to throw Jon in the truck, throw the dead rabbit in the back of the truck and into the first deep ditch, on the way to Dublin to get another rabbit.  This plan worked well.  Jim and Jon was home with the 2nd 'Hops-a-lot', ( Maribeth was unaware of the hare-swap). Jim, Jon and Maribeth was outside, watching the rabbit hop around on the ground, at which time, a hawk swooped down, picked up the new rabbit,  who had been in the Graham family for about 2 hours at  this point, and flew off. Maribeth started crying, and Jim announced they were out of the damn rabbit business. For the next 20 years, Grahams did not have rabbits, then Ted decided that he would get a few rabbits, Flemish Giants, they weighed about 30 pounds, and it would have taken a strong hawk to fly off with one of those bad boys. Ted had the family carpenters, Herman and Nathan, build a big rabbit pen.  Ted bought about 10 of these huge rabbits, and put his breeders together. Well, we all know the story about how quickly rabbits produce, but not for Ted,  after several months, and no little rabbits, Pa Pa, Ted's father-in-law, (and we use the word 'law'  loosely where Pa Pa is concerned) went to check out the rabbits and noticed that Ted had put two females in one pen and two males in one pen, hence Ted having no luck in his big rabbit operation. Since it was duly noted that Jim had bad luck in the rabbit business, we decided it must be a family trait, and started battering and frying the rabbits, which I can report, fried up quite well, and was very tasty.