Angus Burgers, an Old Radio, and Infectious Lung Disease
While on our trip to West Virginia I finally tried the new McDonald’s Angus Burger. I went with the bacon cheeseburger variety (43 grams of fat!), instead of the one with mushrooms, which many people suggested. Because, let’s see… crispy strips of bacon, or cooked fungus? Hmm… hard to decide.
But I didn’t really like it. I don’t know if there was some kind of kitchen mishap, or what, but the burger served to me was one of the saltiest things I’ve ever tasted. I think it was soaked in sea water, breaded in sodium, then boiled in brine. Blecch.
I’ve considered giving it another shot, because there’s a good chance I received a non-representative version. But I don’t see it happening. I’ve been allotted a limited number of lifetime burgers, I believe, and live less than ten miles from a Five Guys.
And what am I, a complete douche?
Speaking of WV, you know the old radio my mother gave me a couple weeks back? This one? Well, it has a rather sad back-story. Wanna hear it? I sure hope so, because I don’t have much else today.
You see, my grandfather on my mother’s side was married and divorced before he met my grandmother. He had two kids with his first wife, a boy and girl. They were born in the 1920s, when my grandfather was really young. He was, apparently, a playa. I’m unclear on it.
Anyway, the girl was supposedly very sweet and nice, and liked by everyone. My grandparents were always involved in her life, and my mother says she considered her an older sister. No half-sister, but the full-blown kind.
When this girl was nineteen or twenty she got a job at Union Carbide, one of the big chemical plants near our hometown. She reportedly worked in the basement of a building, doing clerical work.
One day there was a flood, and water spilled into the office. And while helping with the cleanup, she somehow contracted tuberculosis. I guess it was in the river water, nobody’s sure.
So, she was only about twenty years old, and assigned to live in a TB sanitarium(!). This one, in fact. And that’s where she remained, until her death at the age of 29.
Can you imagine? A 1940s tuberculosis hospital — for ten years? Shit. And I walk around complaining about every little thing. A few minutes ago I was bitching because the threading was askew on my Snapple lid… Boy, oh boy.
But she supposedly maintained a positive attitude throughout, and seemed to accept the situation. At least that’s the family story; I don’t have any way of knowing. I certainly wouldn’t think any less of her if she didn’t accept it. Would you?
She loved music, I’m told, and clung to her radio and records. And that part gets to me a little. Maybe we would’ve had a lot in common? Maybe we’re kindred spirits? The stories of her positive attitude seem to indicate otherwise, but our coping mechanisms certainly line-up.
So, I’m glad to have her radio. Of all the stuff my mother removed from my grandparents’ house, that was the one item I really, really wanted. Her name is written on the bottom in pencil, along with her room number: 319.
I got some of her records too — mostly Big Band stuff, and a couple of novelty songs, like “How Much Is That Doggie In The Window?” Yeah. Wonder if she would’ve enjoyed the Buzzcocks? I like to think so.
What do you think life was like in that so-called sanitarium? What was a normal day there? I bet it wasn’t anything like the Ritz-Carlton, Coconut Grove. Huh? I really wish she’d kept a diary, that would’ve been the real prize…
Oh well.
And how’s this for an uplifting end o’ week update? Fantastic, ain’t it? Let’s keep the good vibes flowing. Tell us about your saddest, or most interesting family tragedies, from a long time ago. Not recent stuff, that’s too personal, but stories you’ve heard about people you never actually met.
And I’m going to forego beer this weekend to give my organs a rest, and start watching Prison Break via Netflix. I’m planning to spend my Friday inside a college library, plotting and scheming and crying softly into a keyboard.
Wish me luck, and have a great weekend.
I’ll see you guys on the other side.
Now playing in the bunker.
Filed under: Daily
FIRST!
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Good Afternoon Surf Reporters!!
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TB was wide spread then. There were several TB hospitals in the state at the time.
I have been looking at some old radios sort of like that one – made by Westinghouse.
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Although very sad, it’s great that you have a back story.
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I had some relatives on my grandmother’s side that went down with the Titanic.
That’s all I got.
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Oh, and that Anus burger is salty. I tried it twice and got the same result. Blech!
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Top 10! w00t!
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I don’t have a tragedy to report, but one of my favorite family stories and evidently the source of my lack of patience/bad temper. Well, I am full blooded Italian (or half Italian half Sicilian if you asked my Sicilian grandfather) so I guess I’m predisposed for such things, but whatever.
My great grandfather had one of those cars that had the crank in front. I guess you had to crank the thing to get it started. Nonno was having a hard time getting the car started one fine morning. He cranked and cranked and then the crank snapped backwards on him (I’m told those things could break your arm when that happened). Nonno had had quite enough by that time and my grandmother said he went into a rage, screaming obscenities in Italian, ran into the house, grabbed a shotgun ran back outside and blew the front of the car to smithereens. So, I guess it is kind of a tragedy-the poor car suffered a horrible death that morning.
Happy Thursday, Surfers!
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My maternal great-grandfather spent most of his adult life in some kind of state mental hospital in south Georgia. Apparently it was for something that would be considered very treatable today (bi-polar? OCD? Sniffing Undies?), but back then it was something they locked you up for. My grandfather had to quit high school to care for the family, and ended up putting several younger siblings through college. My great-grandmother never divorced, she just lived alone for the rest of her life (into her 90′s). She and my grandfather would go visit him occasionally, but my mom and uncles were never allowed to meet the man, even though he was alive well into their teens. I’m glad they don’t put people in the looney bin that readily nowadays. I’d have been in there a long time ago.
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Oh, wait, my mother had a younger sister that choked on a rattle when she was an infant and died. That’s tragic.
I like the car story better, though.
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I had a great uncle that was hung by the Canadian Mounties for horse thievin’.
Also, a near miss – my grandmother’s family (she was the youngest and not born yet) was supposed to come to America on the Titanic, but they missed the boat. That side of the family is late for everything…
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My mother’s side of the family is Irish and British, so there’s plenty of stories of full on insanity, drunkenness, and people dying in their soup. My father’s side is German, some of them being German Jew….and we all know how that story ended. I’d go into detail, but if any fambly member ever found I aired the dirty laundry I’d certainly be shoved out once and for all. Which, come to think of it, may not be so bad after all.
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Let the good times roll indeed. You’ll have to believe me when I say that no one in this forum wants to hear about the happy-go-lucky-good-times and the skeletons in my family’s closet. Actually, not all of which were in any metaphorical closet. Apparently there was quite a bit on muttering going on when we would walk into church on Sundays. Or so I found out later in life.
How’s that for vague and uninformative?
Guess I picked the wrong week to quit shooting up.
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I had a short burst of genealogy a while ago and found two items of interest: 1) a great (great) uncle who was shot dead while plowing his fields in Kentucky. Sounds about right. and 2) a great uncle who assumed the identity of his older brother who died as an infant . . . so he could sign up to go fight in Korea. Gotta get back to that stuff one of these fine days.
PS- Thanks for the Thursday update, always a treat.
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Thumbs down on the Angus burger from me, too. Sounds like salty is standard, not a one-off.
Today’s topic sounds like a real bummer but here goes: When an aunt (distantly related through marriage) was a young girl, she was in a car accident that took the lives of her mother, her mother’s sister, an older boy cousin, and a baby cousin, who slid under the front seat on impact and suffocated before anyone found her there. Only my aunt and her older brother survived. My aunt came away with many broken bones in her face, lifelong sinus problems, and migraines. Her brother had some sort of inadequately-treated head injury that left him “not quite right in the head” after that. My aunt’s father never got over his loss, became an alcoholic, and beat his children relentlessly until CPS took them away and sent them to live with an elderly relative, who was emotionally abusive instead. My aunt’s brother was in and out of group homes and eventually died of heart failure in his mid-40s, brought on by a massive infection from abscessed teeth because he never learned to trust doctors.
The other tragedy I can think of comes from someone related to my brother-in-law. The father of the family in question was distraught that his wife was leaving him, murdered their 4 or 5 children, and turned the gun on himself. The poor woman came home to find her entire family wiped out. She married again a few years later and had another child, but the baby was born at around 24 weeks and died within a week.
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My grandfather was a prophet…my grandmother was a total loss.
My Mom’s Mom died in having my Mom. Her father( my Nonno) passed her off to go live with his sister who had a chicken ranch in Gilroy. I visited Ann and her chickins a long while back before she died. She killed a chicken and cooked it just for me.
My Mom died on her grandaughter’s (my niece) wedding day. Man what a buzz kill. Me and Dad were there with Mom and didn’t make the wedding. We made the reception. We stopped to get a bottle of Jim Beam (Dad’s fave) on the way. Dad’s a hell of a guy I tell ya! Mom wore the dress she’d bought for the wedding at her going away party.
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Family tragedy: I stumbled across a Five Guy hamburger place while I was back visiiting family. There are none near where I live and couldn’t wait to try it What a ripoff.
It was like eating Rally’s for twice the price. It’s no wonder it was so expensive, they had a dozen workers wandering around the place non-stop bothering me while I tried to eat. I finally told one guy that no, everything is not alright because I just paid twice what I should have for a greasy double cheeseburger and fries.
Never going there again.
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My grandfather was a soldier in the Russian Army in WWII. He stepped on a landmine, and was captured by the nazis. When they arrived at the labor camp, the POWs were sorted into two lines, those who would live, and those who couldn’t work. As a soldier began to pull my grandfather into the oven line, ol’ G-Pa slipped him a pack of cigars that he had stolen from a commanding officer. Thus he was allowed to live. For awhile.
A week later the Nazis realized he wasn’t good for much, and decided he should go ahead and die, as gruel didn’t grow on trees. Yet in a fit of genius, my pappy played an Ace card (or whatever the equivilant would have been in communist Russia) and divulged that he knew how to make bathtub vodka, Seeing as how spirits(pardon the pun) in the Nazi Labor Camp were pretty low, what with all the burning and executing, the officers decided to let him live and work in the kitchens as long as he made them plenty of hooch. I assume from shoes and cabbage.
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and now for a lighter moment, fresh off the press.
shitmydadsays – “You touched that god damned biscuit. Bullshit, I saw you touch it….I don’t give a shit about your evidence, this isn’t a court of law.”
Sorry, I had to break that up. To many tears for me. Hey, I’m a sensitve guy.
Now on the iPod – “Rock and Roll Fantasy” – Bad Company
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Accidently hit submit.
So the ending to the story is:
When the nazis lost, they poisoned all the food, but since gramps was in the kitchens he chose to fast that day. So I am alive because my grandfather was a thief and a drunk.
Oh the sad part? After the war his schizophrenia/PTSD whatever got the best of him, and he would run and hide from building to building outside, convinced the KGB was after him because he had state secrets. Then he shot himself.
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My dad (who died when I was very young) had an affair with my mom’s sister and knocked her up. Said baby was given up for adoption and never talked about. When I was 18, I found out about said cousin/half-sister.
Then we all went on Jerry Springer and had a fist fight.
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Angus from McDonalds was the worst fast food i have ever had. I gave it a second chance, still terrible. Stay away!
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This one is my favorite:
“My flight lands at 9:30 on Sunday…You want to watch what? What the fuck is mad men? I’m a mad man if you don’t pick me the hell up.”
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My Great Grandfather started a farm in Iowa. He worked into his 90s. When he was 95 he fell off his tractor and broke his hip. It got infected and he died. Fast forward to 2005. His youngest son, Wilbur was working the same farm. Fell off his tractor and broke his hip. He died shortly thereafter. He was also 95. Creepy, don’t ya think?
Needless to say, I won’t be climbing on any tractors when I’m 95.
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I got nuthin’. I grew up in a Leave It To Beaver sitcom situation. No crazy aunts, no tragic deaths, no tuberculosis sanitoriums.
Just lucky I guess…
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I tried the Angus from McDonalds. It was like eating a salty meatloaf sandwich, and a poor one at that. Thumbs down on the McDonalds Angus burgers – they’re shit sandwiches.
The Burger King crossanwich is a dollar! One dollar! And it’s delicious.
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Ummm…I’ll admit to being drunk when I ate the angus burger, but I loved it. When I have another I’ll report back.
No famlily tragedies that I know of. There was a suicide but I don’t have details.
My aunt lost a baby two days after the baby shower.
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My great-great grandfather on Big Lou’s side was out hunting wild boar with a musket once back in Macedonia.
He shot one and only succeeded in pissing it off.
It went after him, cut up his legs and maimed him pretty good.
He killed it with his hatchet and laid in the woods for three days until he was found.
He walked with a limp for the rest of his life, but into his 90′s he’d get up in the morning, put his hat in his teeth and go running up the mountain just for the excercise.
I guess that’s not that depressing.
There’s other family stories about what a badass this guy was.
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Jesus, Brynhildr you win for most horrific stories.
Ivan, too bad the crazies got the best of your grandpa. He sounds like one clever fella.
I only have one family tragedy and that involves the death of my mother when she was 24. That was 32 years ago and I was just a tot. This falls outside the Jeff’s parameters of nothing too personal so I’ll just move along. If he ever asks us to tell ghost stories though, boy do I have a weird one.
I had that Angus scrapple burger once. I broke my rule to do it, which is to only eat the little cheeseburgers because they are covered in bun and cheese and condiments so you can’t taste the meat. Never again I swear!
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My great uncle was knifed to death over some small Georgia town politics. No one was ever arrested for it either. My grandmother went out in the rain the night all this happened and contracted rheumatic fever which seriously damaged her heart. Another uncle worked for the WPA during the depression installing telephone poles across the south. Apparently he did some ….um….mingling with the natives because he caught sphyllis and was never quiet right when I knew him. The family cared for him but treated him like a pariah because they were scared they could catch it.
I got lot of stories because I come from one of those weird southern f’d up families that Tennesee Williams wrote about….
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Tried the McDonald’s Angus burger.
McDonald’s Anus burger more like.
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Jeezus-H! What have you done to the surfers, Jeff?! This place is about as lively as a convalescent center at naptime.
Thank Allah for the “shitmydadsays” interludes!
Now Playing on iPhone: ‘Little Cream Soda’ by The White Stripes
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my uncle had an accident on a highway and hit his head. He made it to the side of the road allright. But he got out of the drivers seat and walked in front of a speeding truck and was instantly killed.
My grandpa in England was coming out of the medical center where he had just passed a physical exam and died ubruptly on the steps of a massive heart attack.
Another Uncle in England decided to stay home from work because of a stomach ache. The carpool he always rode with got into a horrific accident and they all died! He died a few years later of a stomach aneurism.
I liked the fungus laden/swiss angus burger. I love salty things.
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My maternal grandmother and her family immigrated from Scotland to Cranberry, WV in 1921. She was 7 years old at the time. She fell in love with Grover when she was 15, and I believe he was 18. They wanted to get married. Her parents said hell no but told her if they felt the same way when she was 18 then they would give their permission. I’m sure they thought she’d be over it by then. Neither of their families got along. Think Romeo and Juliet. So, when she was 18 and Grover was 21 they got married. She got pregnant very quickly. For some vague reason, (she made it sound like a conflict between the families) she was staying with her parents. Grover walked to her parents house in the rain to attempt a reconciliation, but her parents wouldn’t let him see her. Soon after, he developed pneumonia and died in July of 1932. His last words to my grandmother were, “Where is the baby?” My mom was born in September and my grandmother never married again. She said that was her one true love and she just never met anyone else that measured up to him. According to mom she dated and was even engaged a couple of times. My mom never had any contact with her father’s family. My mom has since died but my grandmother is still kicking. Her mind is sharp as a tack, but she sure is mean. I think I understand why.
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RNK — this isn’t a contest I’m tryin’ to win. And saying I wish someone would one-up me sounds awful, doesn’t it? Those were the first stories that came to mind. I’ll have to think of some funny but unfortunate incidents as a counterbalance. I liked Knucklehead’s story about the car.
Why don’t you tell us your ghost story anyway? You’ve piqued my interest.
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My great-grandmother had an affair with a drifter which produced my grandpa. Totally scandalous for 1917. The most my great-grandma ever said was that he worked for the railroad and his first name was Reuben. Apparently that little bit of information didn’t come out until the day of her funeral when my grandpa’s aunts told him. I would so love know great-grandma’s story on this. I’m sure it was something really romantic and steamy…or at least that’s the version I’m going with.
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My Mother was a hampster and my father smelled of elderberries…
Seriously though, my grandmother was the greatest person I’ve know. Died about 2 years ago at 94, fiesty as $h!t and the best sense of humour and held nothing back. Immigrants to the prairies, youngest of 14 kids, used to run to stand in cowpies to warm their feet. Now kids just want designer marketed horse $h!t… I wish I know more family history but we’re not close knit now that the keepers are gone.
Fast food sucks….
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Melissa… who the fuck is Alllan?
Ok…how about this? They cut off my Dad’s dick when they got a load of me and my sister when we started going to school. That’s lively!
Now playing on the ipod…”Fuck Off” by ‘Who gives a Fuck ‘. Aw crap… I don’t have an iPod. Now I gotta start a band again!
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Jason – maybe that’s the best way to plan it’s time to go. Better than hooked up to machines…
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Sorry, I’ve got no family tragedies of a non-personal nature.
I’ve been meaning to try the Angus burger, but now it sounds like it’s not worth it. Hey, I can make an oversalted burger at home. At least it would be a good burger to begin with (unlike McD), and I could get a beer with it (unlike McD).
I did once have an “old” radio, a 1930s or ’40s vintage Atwater-Kent tabletop model. Its cabinet was made of once-lovely wood, and I used it daily in 1979 and 1980, but I seem to have misplaced it since then.
PS – Shiny, you have taught me to read shitmydadsays *before* coming here.
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and other people having to make decisions for you.
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Oh yeah, when I was a kid we used to hold our breath when we drove by Pinecrest so we wouldn’t get the TB germs.
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WVKAY – I’d fall in love with someone named ‘Grover’ too easily.
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WVKay – That story of your grandparents is really touching and tragic. Does your grandmother ever talk about him?
Bryn – my ghost story would best be told when I’ve had a couple glasses of wine. Besides I’m too new to bring out my weirdness yet. Or am I already too late…hmmmm
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Recently, I was the unfortunate and unwilling recipient of a McDonald’s Anus burger (no, that was not a typo). I was nonplussed by the approximately 3.75″ of circular surface, which could only be construed as a containment area for unwanted mayonaise. Although I’d like to quote Rodney Dangerfield and say “I’ve had better food at the ballpark”…that isn’t true either (BP Gas Station, Spartanburg, SC…3am…don’t ask how I know this). So if you have to eat the nasty, Hardee’s has a thick burger you can totally get down on!
So no, you are not a complete and total douche…Here is a link to determine if you are though: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDCPK4MiolQ
Amazing nostalgia story about the radio…thanks for sharing.
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DTO – Do you need an Recording Engineer/Producer? I’m available.
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@RNK: You’re late, actually. I think we’ve had the ghost swapping stories at least twice now. But that doesn’t mean we’re not up for another round, especially from new blood.
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@Gretchen: why does that make me feel like rare steak served up on a silver platter with the wolves hovering. OK it’s long but I’ll get to typin
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RNK, yes, she still talks about him. She actually wrote down her life story and I typed it for her. Very interesting stuff. I’ve only seen two pictures of him. One with my grandmother and another one with a baseball team he played for in Cranberry. Appparently it was the “minor” leagues of the time and he was a really good athelete. He was a short guy, but he was really handsome.
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i’ve got a thickburger you can totally get down on. heh.
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T-Storm…wow…that was so sexy I have to go sit down because my knees are weak!
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it’s more self deprecating (and truthiful) to say it’s more of a slider. Still dirty though.
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Some background: My mom passed away just before I turned 2 years old. She had a brain tumor and got sick a few months after I was born but managed to last 18 months. I have one single memory of her but I’ll get to that in a minute. My dad and my mom’s family got pretty hostile about six months later when my dad started dating and remarried soon thereafter. Fast forward 30 years and I have barely had any contact with my mom’s family. I made the first move and decided to get in touch with my uncle who was extremely close to my mom. We finally got together for dinner and I told him I had this weird memory but I was sure it was something I made up as a little kid and nothing more. I remembered my dad holding me, standing at the casket and I pointed down at her and said mommy’s sleeping. Well he burst into tears and said he couldn’t believe I actually remembered but he did confirm that it actually happened and it wasn’t something I had made up in my little kid mind.
The next several days that imagine kept popping up in my mind. I kept thinking that it was really unfair that that memory was the only thing I had. I wasn’t weepy about it or anything, I just wished that I could see her just one time so I could have a real memory of what she looked and sounded like not one of her in a casket. Several nights later I had a dream, a really vivid dream. I was standing in a dim hallway next to a man with dark hair. He was looking at me then he pointed to a room with glass walls like you would see in an office. He said “she’s right there”. And there she was sitting in a chair throwing her head back and laughing and clapping like people do when they’ve been told something that makes them laugh till they cry. She looked just like her pictures except her hair didn’t have that 70s flip at the end. It was longer and tucked behind her ear. I just stood there watching her laugh. Then she turned and looked at me and smiled with her head cocked a little. Then I bolted straight up in bed, wide awake remembering every detail
Now you’ll think the same rational thing that I did. I was thinking about it long enough so of course I dreamed about it. Only I never dream like that. I have crazy, active dreams where it seems like everything is happening all at once. I don’t have calm dreams focused on one event. Anyway, this dream was still easily explained away as simply my wishful subconscious. Except two days later I found the ring my dad had made for himself which held the diamond from my mother’s wedding ring. It was sitting on top of an empty candlestick in my bedroom. He gave it to me in my late teens and I kept it in it’s little box in my jewelry box under my nightstand. I hadn’t looked at it in years. The empty ring box was still just were I had left it in the jewelry box.
So there it is. I’m pretty level-headed and I’m not religious but I honestly can’t explain this one away. The dream didn’t feel like a dream, it felt like a glimpse of something else I can’t quite explain. As for the ring…no idea how to rationalize that one.
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Here’s my family skeletons….paternal grandfather took the proverbial walk to the corner for cigarettes back in the late 30′s and never went home. Abandoned my grandmother and his 2 kids(my father and my aunt). After rolling around the country for a couple years, he hopped a boat to England to fight in the war, joining a canadian unit as the US was not in the war officially yet.. US joins and he is formally attached to a US unit until the war ends. While in England, he marries a british gal.
War ends, granddad goes back to the States-not even a goodbye to the Mrs. Mrs. Granddad assumes he was killed in service and goes to apply for her widows pension at war end. That when she finds out that Mrs. Granddad had already applied for the pension.
Yep, old Granddad had married TWO British gals and they found out about each other after the war when he left the country.
Oh, and he had never divorced the 1st US wife, my grandmother, either.
A Menage a Trois of Wives.
Quite the lothario bigamist old granddad….
So I find out all this(and the fact that at least 1 of those British wives had kids by him, so I have long lost relatives in Jolly Old)at the age of 37, when my mother comes up to help me after the birth of my youngest son in 1996.
Nice huh?
We put the FUN in dysfunctional family!!lol
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And just so my mother’s side of the family isn’t left out….
My grandfather’s brother(great uncle Mack)saw some bigtime hand to hand combat in WW2. He had to play dead in a pile of actual dead soldiers for 3 days after some battle. A pile of his former friends and fellow soldiers mind you. He was never quite right in the head after that.
He married his nurse from the hospital. He had psychotic breaks every now and again throughout his life. Had a spot on his forehead he scrubbed raw because of the imaginary “blood’ on it(from when he lay in that pile, with blood dripping slowly for 3 days on his forehead). He would take unexpected ‘vacations’ to the ocean and hole up in a hotel room, covering the windows and tv screen with paper bags and tape and wearing tin foil hats….because the government could see into the hotel room and control his mind. Had to be near the ocean because the sea water scrambled the govt. signals and he could write in his journal all those secrets he didn’t want them to find out about.
This would last a week and he’d go home refreshed and be ‘normal’ again until the next time. He was never violent toward a soul….
He was always nice to me and brought me candy and presents. And he was a gifted landscape painter.
Just wacky in the head….
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For those of you that know me well, you have heard me mention my great-grand-father on my grandmothers side and his wife. That may include one or two of you fine Surf Reporters.
Needless to say, my GGF was born a free man in the mid 1800′s. This story came from my aunt and the only way that I know about it was that she was telling the story to my father and mother back in the 70′s when we came to visit them in Texas. I hid out in the other room listening to what she had to say.
My GGF owned land outside of Brenham, TX and had a small farm with livestock and enough acreage to grow a few things to feed his family. Enough said on that. He was lonely and decides to search for a wife. His search took him to New Orleans where he met a most unusual woman. She was Creole and her name was Lillian Spencer. They soon fell in love and married and he packed all her belongings and moved her back to Brenham and soon after started a family.
They eventually produced several children, one being my grandmother who was give my GGM’s name. In 1800′s Texas, it didn’t take long for the word to get out regarding my next bit of details. If you know anything about Creole people, well dammit, go read about, I don’t have time to explain.
The problem was that a great mistake was made one day; a white nearby farmer came by my GGF’s land a saw my GGM out hanging clothes on the line. What he thought was a white woman was actually my Creole GGM. He stood back and watched my GGF come up and get a glass of water and then give her a kiss. Engaged at this sight, he got back on his horse and rode off. Later that evening, a group of men came a calling and they weren’t there for my GGM’s biscuits. They wanted to know why a (you know what they said) was kissing on a white woman.
Most of them being drunk and looking for some action, they were able to take away his shotgun and subdue my GGF and tie him up. My GGM shouted to them that she was not a white woman, and that she was Creole, being both ignorant and drunk they didn’t listen to her. My GGF was carried off into the night and hung. Several of his friends went looking for him the next day and they found his body beaten and mutilated. My GGM never recovered from the loss of her true love and die several years later from grief leaving my GM to raise the siblings and run the farm.
So that’s my story. It is one that I have kept secret that I even knew about it since I was a teenager. Peace ya’ll. I’m outta here…
On iTunes now – “Ain’t That a Bitch!” – Johnny Guitar Watson
“Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d’enculé de ta mère.”
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Do the copycats never stop?
http://www.metafilter.com/84750/You-can-take-my-PopTarts-from-my-cold-dead-hands
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RE: Copycats –
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Though it still pisses people off.
My grandfather was a cross country train hopping hobo in the 1920′s. Nothing bad happened to him, just thought it was interesting.
Is the Angus supposed to be a tastier cow? Or just a marketing ploy to sell overpriced meat…
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My great uncle on my mother’s side was an animal trainer with the Cole Brothers Circus. He was killed by one of his elephants sometime in the early 1940′s. My mother still has a pin that was made from of one of the elephant’s tusks. That thing freaked the hell out of me when I was a kid.
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Sweet baby Jeezum, Shiny Rod, that’s the sort of story that makes me sad down to my bones. Not in the least because I married an Asian man and there’s still people in this country that would have a problem with that. I don’t suppose those good ol’ boys were ever prosecuted either. So sad and such a waste.
Jeff, you simply MUST pose a new question before Monday so we can get off this depressing topic.
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I had a great uncle that fell inside a gas tank and bought the farm. Apparently he was trying to retrieve his cigs that had fallen from his shirt pocket.
When he leaned over into the tank to retrieve them he either leaned to far and fell, or was overcome by the fumes and fell.
The gas tanks from what I understand were used to hold drip gas. And I believe that this drip gas was actually ground water that had been separated from the natural gas wells. But I am not real clear on it.
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Gretchen – 1800′s Texas, I doubt it even was reported outside of a few bar rooms for shits and giggles. I wouldn’t even be surprised if the local law was in on it.
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Shiny Rod, if I could I would hug you so hard your great-grandparents would feel it. That is just truly an awful story. Sadly, it is probably a story that could be repeated over and over.
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Man, I’m old enough to remember the mobile TB screening busses they used to send around to communities around Seattle. Think “bookmobile” but with lung x-ray machines inside.
My two daughters just started back to school here in Alaska and both had to go to the Public Health clinic to get TB screening. Still a big disease up here in these parts. I know an old guy who had TB back in the 1950s. The government took him away from his family when he was 5 years old and sent him to a santiarium for over 10 years. He told me that part of the treatment back then was injecting some wax-like substance into the lungs.
No personal family tragedies here, but my wife’s Great Grandfather (a white guy) married a Seneca Indian woman back in the early 1900s. His rich family disapproved, and had her committed to an insane asylum for the remainder of her life.
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My Dad, who I found out several years ago, at age 44, was NOT my Dad, although I knew it already (and that’s a story for “tell us in the comments about a relative who is not really your relative” day, was a mean son of a bitch when I was a kid. He didn’t take shit from anyone and would clock someone at the drop of a hat for looking at him wrong. Most of his time was spent screaming or beating me with the refrigerator door. Never saw a soft side.
I guess it may have had to do with his childhood. From his birth to age 17, his mother was married to seven different guy, most of them abusive drunks. She, too, was a drunk and a pill addict for years, but she was old and alone, and my Dad would always go to Alum Creek to see her in her two story old house. She has a small dog that was now her only friend, and she was always holding the dog in her lap…and slept with at her side.
When I was 12, we received a call from on of my fake Dad’s many half brothers in the middle of the night and I had to go out to the Alum Creek house with him. We got there and flames were going about 80 feet in the air. I saw fake Dad cry for the first and only time in my life. I went to give him a hug (which was unheard of) and he smacked me away and continued to bawl like a baby. Once they pulled the charred body out (smoking in bed, falling asleep), the dog was basically fused to her side from the fire. Wasn’t much of a watchdog, I guess.
No other tragedy involving death or insanity, yet. But give it time. Both mine and my wife’s families have a lot of Springer material that could involve a homicide at any given minute.
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Angus beef is partly marketing but since most McDonald’s patties are made from old dairy cows, and Angus cows don’t make good milkers, I figured the Angus burger might taste better, since it’s actual eating beef. I done figured wrong.
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As for the Angus burger – my hubby also said it was WAY too salty. He tried it at 2 different McD’s and now refuses to even look at it again.
As for weird relative stories….The only one I can only think of 2 at this moment. Both have to do with conception.
1. My Paterianl GGrandma apparently had a holy conception. My grandma’s father was NEVER spoken of, and even after all of them are gone I can find NO information of who my grandma’s father was. Apparently my grandma just sprung out of the earth. For 1920 this was a REAL scandal. My grandma was born out of wedlock. My GGrandma didn’t get married until my grandma was almost 30.
2. My Maternal GGrandma, apparently got pregnant on her wedding night…and gave birth 2+ months early to a 10+ pound preemie – my grandma. HA!
Oh, I lied, I can think of 3 things…this one isn’t so pleasant.
3. My great uncle was killed in a farming accident in the early 80′s. Apparently something went wrong with his new farming equipment and it flipped over. When it flipped it sent a metal rod through his brain. The local ambulance crew responded to the accident, and apparently the blood was SO bad, that it took 2 days to clean the ambulance so it could be used again. They had to call in Life Lion (medical helicopter) and have him airlifted to Hershey Med. Needless to say he died about 24 hr later.
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My poor, recently departed mother’s life was a heartbreaker.
During the depression my maternal grandmother (who apparently wasn’t wrapped too tight) wanted to run off with a travelling salesman so she took her 8 kids down to the Salvation Army and dumped them before she took off. My mother was a year old and the youngest of the litter.
The mother came back a few weeks later to reclaim them (guess things didn’t work out, go figger) and the Salvation Army actually gave them back to her. All except for my mother who had been adopted out.
Her first step mother died, then her next step mother died and then the next. Yep, that’s right. She had 3 step mothers the last of which was blood kin to the wicked witch of the west. Fortunately her adoptive father was kind. Too bad my mom had to bury him on her wedding day. Sadly, her husband, my dad only lived to be 57 and she was widowed at a fairly young age around 50.
One good thing did happen to her though. Her brother, the eldest of the original 8 siblings, had looked for her for years and finally found her (with the help of a private detective agency) when she was about 51. (In those days once someone was adopted all records were sealed. That was why my maternal grandmother could not go back and get my mother.)
She was reunited with all her brothers and sisters. She had a bout with cancer in her early 70s which she beat but suffered adversely from the anesthetic which brought on early dementia. I don’t how she ever was able to put a smile on her face considering the life she had.
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I just had a wonderful breakfast of diet pancakes. Their diet because they weren’t served in the usual way which is:
Blueberry pancake, slathered in lard then mayonnaise, topped with four slices of bacon and 1/2 cup of honey. Repeat 6 times. The resulting pile should be about 6″ to 8″ tall. Serve with a side bowl of melted lard and a lemon wedge.
This time I used low fat mayonnaise and served a bowl of plain corn oil on the side rather than melted lard. Oh, and there was a snickers bar on the side as garnish. I can feel the pounds melting off as I speak.
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Notice I misused the word “their” in the first sentence? Your welcome, Brynhildr.
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Second sentence. Frikken fuck. This diet is making me stoopid.
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My grandfather on dad’s side got his ears blown off in a mine explosion in Fayette Co. WV back in the 30′s. Nothing else, just ears.
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WOW!!! What awesome stories from all!! Interesting reading for sure.
Mine is fairly short. When I was in my 20′s, I found out through my maternal GM that General Custer was my Great, Great, Great GF…..and we all know how that story ends.
Unfortunately, in my 20′s I was young and dumb. So I didn’t really give a shit about family geneology. Now that my GM has long since passed, I wish I could have one more coversation with her to pick her brain.
Brooke: I am fascinated with the Titanic. Do you know anymore history about your relatives that were on that fateful trip?
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Damn, if I wanted to be sad, I’d just quit drinking and look in the mirror.
Let’s Go….
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Jeff,
This is completely off topic but I just wanted to pass along a website for ya. Since I have lived in Japan for over seven years I forgot how much fun Wal-mart can be!
http://peopleofwalmart.com/
Enjoy!
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Holy shit….. my disfunctional family can’t hold a candle to you fuckers…..
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Oh…. Jeff. I hope your so called “plumber” didn’t charge you much to create that plumbing cluster fuck….. Take his advise and hang a picture over it! That shit will leak again….. and again…….
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@Limey. Old dairy cows really. I would imagine that McDonalds sells more pounds of hamburger in a month that the total on-hoof wieght of all the dairy cattle in America. I would imagine that McD’s hamburger is most likely made out of whatever cows they can get for the lowest price.
The Angus beef phenom does boggle the mind, though. A cow is a cow, what you feed them and how they’re raised changes their flavor and tenderness. Angus beef will be all the rage for a few years and then someone will start offering 100% herferd burger and we’ll just “HAVE” to have that instead.
Oh and the McD’s Anus burger is dried up and salty, not good.
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fellow surfers, your tragic stories are touching and I appreciate that you opened up so freely. I really do.
@RNK, it is so cool that you got to see your Mother laughing like that, whether it was a vision, a visitation, or whatever. That is just cool.
I just read all the comments from Thursday’s posting, and it has been surreal – heart-wrenching stories intermixed with comments on salty anus burger comments! haha and shitmydadsays. This has GOT to be the best comments-community out there!
I’m going to NC to see my Mom and, hopefully, all three of my brothers will be there, too. (The squabbling has already started via text & phone. ) Hope you guys have great plans for the weekend and stay safe.
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When I was 12 my sister and I were watching a live “airshow” on T.V. when right in the middle of a demonstration a military helicopter burst into flames & exploded I was so excited I couldn’t wait to tell my dad when he got home from flying a military helicopter at an airshow…………
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Et tu, Jason? (sigh)
RNK — sounds like you have a much nicer picture of your mother now, no matter how it got there, freaky circumstance or not. Glad you did all that typing for us.
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On a happier note and I apologise in advance! I couldn’t help but think of your loved one having an affair with Grover from Sesame street! now I can’t get that voice out of my head!
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Pagan — Really? Your father? Awful.
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Pagan – DEAR GOD!!
Jason – I wasn’t on a diet until I read your breakfast. I have been effectively cured of my appetite for the entire day.
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shitmydadsays – “I’m having a Makers Mark, you want one? What? 7up? I ain’t mixing fucking makers with 7up. Might as well put a lil’ fucking umbrella in it”
That even sounds like something I would say. What a ruination of good bourbon.
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LMFAO!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_3Utmj4RPU
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Shiny:
“Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d’enculé de ta mère.”
–Awesomely funny quote here….from a movie?
And geez, what an incredibly sad story. I guess thanks for sharing it since you hadn’t done so with anyone else.
Now for Jeff:
We do need a new question for the weekend or there will be a lot of sad Surfers this Labor Day!
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Pagan – As many air shows I witnessed as a young kid, that would have devistated me.
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Down from 295 to 281 in just one week. I’m so goddamn hungry that if you walked a cow up to me right now, I would just take a bite out of it’s face.
Here’s a thought provoking question for the weekend? Melissa, Jeff won’t be here today. He said that yesterday. Monday’s a holiday, so maybe not then either. Participate if you want.
So you could have sex with anyone you want in the world, never get caught. Name your:
1) Sports figure
2)Hollywood Celebrity
3) Musical performer
All can be present or past
I’ll start
1- Maria Sharapova- see that dress on Sportcenter she’s wearing this week? Holy shit!
2- Gina Gershon- Always had this thing for Gina- Hot and NASSSSSTY!
3.- Chrissie Hynde- In her prime, of course, but she doesn’t look that different now.
C’mon, try it. What else you gonna do till Tuesday?
Have a great long weekend everyone.
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My father was a member of the Frozen Chosin (7th Marines). He earned two purple hearts out there in that mess, returned home, and went on with his life before passing away years ago from a heart attack.
My mother has a satchel full of letters sent by dad while he was in the service. She said that I could read them if I wanted, but I’ve never delved into them. I did search for one letter, though, the last one he sent right before the attack. November 23, 1950 – Thanksgiving Day. It was filled with bravado that they had the North Korean force on the run and would push them all the way into Manchuria. He also mentioned -20F degree temps that were expected to dip even lower. Less than a week after that letter left his hands and he’d be thrown into hell – I can’t imagine.
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Melissa, RNK and Gretchen – Thanks for those kind and considerate words and that great big hug. I was in a state of shock when I heard it being told and I just sat there with my mouth opened and not able to say a word or move , tears running down my face. I had never knew or understood what racism was before then. My grandmother on the other hand was very fearful from that incident on. One day we were out playing on the front lawn and a very large white man drove up in his very small car, got out and went in his house. If you don’t know, there use to be a commercial back in the 70′s about Contadina Tomato sauce. Something about “Who put that big fat tomato in that iddy biddy can?” Well, we repeated that jingle and my grand mother overheard us and put two and two together. Whippings were in order for disrespecting a white man that evening. I was ever so furious at her for telling my dad to beat us for that. many years later, I understood what she was trying to do. This was long before I overheard the coversation. Even though my dad honored his mothers request, he still taught us to be color blind but respect people even if you don’t know them.
Hope I got my (theres) correct, I don’t want to be a victim of Brynhildr’s rath.
Now playing on the iPod – “Get over it” – Eagles
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Melissa – The Matrix -Reloaded
Merovingian: I love French wine, like I love the French language. I have sampled every language, French is my favorite. Fantastic language. Especially to curse with. Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d’enculé de ta mère. It’s like wiping your arse with silk. I love it.
…and No, I do not speak French. I’m not that pompus. But it does sound like wiping your ass with silk.
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rnk–that is the neatest story i’ve ever heard. i’ve got big tears running down my cheeks. glad you have a new memory.
shiny rod—i wish i could hug you too, but considering the fact that i’m coming up on 75 (ok, i’m OLD–so what?) maybe i can hug your great gp’s for you in the near future. waddya say?
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dorothy – Not to far behind you at 51, I would like to think you have plenty of great years ahead of you. I am quite sure they (GP’s) would enjoy it though.
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AWG – I’ll play. I’m just going with my top 3 though, all actors just because, well, I’m a movie buff. In no particular order:
James Spader – Something about his voice and the manner in which he speaks, and then his eyes….yeah I’ll help ya bury the body just keep looking at me like that. Secretary anyone?
Richard Tyson – Before he was that douchey mama’s boy in Kindergarten Cop he was in a little known film called Two Moon Junction. I stumbled across that unmarked VHS tape while babysitting. Total unnerving seduction has a way of sticking with a 13-year-old girl.
Jeffrey Dean Morgan – Just HOT!!
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Thanks for playing, RNK. I would have never put this out there had I known an update was on the way today.
I have no idea who your third selection is.
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Aw hell! I wanted to hear everyone’s top 3. AWG save this one up for another day.
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So you could have sex with anyone you want in the world, never get caught. Name your:
1) Sports figure – Kim Kardashian
2)Hollywood Celebrity – Megan Fox
3) Musical performer – Fergie
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Very nice selections, Shiny, ‘cept I think Kim Kardashian only bangs sports figures and is not a participant.
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AngryWhiteGuy – That works for me…
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1) Sports figure
2)Hollywood Celebrity
3) Musical performer
1. ken griffey jr’s wife
2. alyssa milano. but she will be referred to as sam and i willintroduce her to “jonathan”
3. the chick from dressy bessy orrrrrrrrrrrrr the chick from rainer maria
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OK i have been reading this all afternoon between phone calls and the arduous tasks that follow said phone calls……So i just answered my phone “SURFERS” instead of “Service” the normal greeting. LOL
Ok family lore has it that my great grandmother ,who was crazy as they come, hated sex and eventually found a Dr. to “sew her shut”
Her daughter, my Grandmother, was literally chased out of the state of Tennessee in the middle of the night to avoid the very public lynching of her husband :a local teacher who had been molesting boys in his class and was caught. My mother at age 13 had to organize the entire event because she was the only one who had the wits about her to concieve a plan. That is not the worst part…… he then came to Indiana and continued teaching, molesting boys, and eventually retired the principal of his school.
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My only memories of my GGM was that she was bed-ridden the whole time I knew her, when I was a kid. She never remembered any of us when we’d come to visit. Even her own kids, she wouldn’t know who they were. She had one live-in daughter who took care of her. That’s all I know about her, just a distant memory of a GGM I’d only met maybe five times.
Hopefully our Grandkids won’t have stories to tell about us! Jeff, the last few surf reports have been sending everyone down memory lane! It only gets worse as you get older! I’m 50 now and I really cherish my childhood and all the great memories, good or bad. You guys are great! Love all your comments! Thanks Jeff for all your work for us!
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Because of your comments, I will not even think about trying the Anguish Burger at McD’s. You know they keep coming out with new menu items, just to stay “fresh & exciting” and to keep people coming back, wanting to try the newest thing. Wonder what the McD’s labratory / kitchen is working on now, to spring on us as their next new menu item?
Jeff, you should really give Jack-in-a-Box a chance! They got a great menu selection, great food and if they were still killing people with e-coli, they would have been shut down long ago! It’s SAFE, I promise!
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the burger story reminded me about this site(http://foodirl.com/) that i saw the other day….looks like a ripoff of the wvsr story for sure and not nearly as humorous.
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Legend has it that my mum’s relatives were kicked out of Ireland for being Drunken Thieves. I think of it as our Shane MacGowan Factor.
My GGM (Dad’s side) was shunned by many locals when she was younger, as she refused to wear dresses. She and my GGF owned a large farm, and she found it (insert expletive after expletive) stupid to ‘flit about in a (expletive, expletive) dress when denim was sensible’. She wore blue jeans, boots, and flannel, chewed tobacco and swore like a sailor. She and my GGF were married for 70 years. She had dementia when she was in her late 90s, and would grab us by the arm and tell us to “Never trust a [insert random expletives] INDIAN.”
My GGM was full-blooded Mi’qmaq.
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@AngryWhiteGuy – not only does Chrissie Hynde still look the same, her voice hasn’t changed a bit. Saw her in concert several times, last was 2008, and she still sounds like she did on the first album.
Family tragedies – mainly the run of the mill type, but some creepy coincidences: about 20 years ago a friend worked at Montgomery Wards with a woman, call her Kim. One day Kim told my friend “I see the devil in my ex-husband’s eyes.” Not long after, the husband murdered Kim at her apartment, along with Kim’s woman friend and the woman’s child. The ex-husband left his own four-year-old child, who was there, untouched.
Also about 20 years ago my sister was dating a man named Pat. He was divorced with two teenage girls. I saw them once at my sister’s house. My sister hadn’t been dating him two long when a man knocked on the apartment door of where Pat’s girls lived with their mother. Only the oldest girl was there, having just gotten home from school. The guy killed and mutilated her. A year or so later a couple who had lived in this area and read about the crime and since moved to Florida read about a similar crime. They notified the police in this area, and the guy was caught. He was a serial murderer. There was a book written about the case.
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Here’s tragedy for you, and all true — My grandmother’s (dad’s side) sister – mother of six, had a home that was heated by kerosene – the details escape me but kerosene is a big player in the story. Anyway, one winter day she went to the big tank outside to get some kerosene for the little tank inside tank and managed to light herself on fire – yes, she died. Ugh, what a way to go. But wait! There’s more!
So, the next fall/winter there was a bad flu epidemic (this would be 1935 or so, by the way) and since my great-uncle was now a single father of six, my grandmother went to take care of the children, all of whom came down with the flu. Sadly, four of the six children and my grandmother died from the flu – my father was three at the time.
The good news (if this is possible) was that dad was number 9 of 10 children, and my aunts were old enough at that time to raise the youngest. In the end, it resulted in an incredibly close family, one I’m proud to be a part of. Dad and most of his siblings have passed away over the past few years but I always think I was part of a special family because of how they all raised each other. I could (and have) sit and listen to the stories from their youth for hours and hours.
Sappy, maybe, but it’s my family’s story and in an odd way I kind of like it.
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Just stay away from the Jack sauce at Jack-in-the-box. There’s a hyped up little guy there named Pedro who is making it as fast as he can.
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My great-aunt was married three times. Her first husband was Italian, and was believed to have some connection to the mob. They moved out to Nebraska to hide out n such. One day, she came home to find her husband dressed in a fancy suit, propped up in a fence corner, cigar in his mouth, shot in the head. They ruled it a suicide, despite the fact that he was shot in the back of the head execution style, and he didn’t smoke.
Her second husband was working in the fields and climbed up on the haying equipment to repair something. He slipped, fell, and was impaled on the hay fork. He managed to pull himself off, crawled a mile to his truck, and made it halfway home before he passed out. He died three days later.
Hubby #3 had a massive heart attack and landed face down in his mashed potatoes. He either died from his heart or the taters lodged in his sinuses.
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