Holy
crap in a Bundt pan... Due
to the recent well-publicized shortage of amateur websites produced by assholes who
think they're clever, I have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an
Ugly American living on the cusp of a
mid-life crisis. And I’m here to serve, baby.
-- Nancy and the gang stayed at a motel. Since Sunshine & Mumbles were piled-up in the family room, there wasn't enough space for five more people and a flesh-ripping dog. And somehow Toney worked it so Eninen and their brood slept elsewhere...
After they checked-in everybody but Nossy made a beeline for our house. Nostrils was "sick," and needed a nap. He's always sick or exhausted or
melancholy, or something that can apparently be remedied only by sleeping in the daytime. Wotta douche.
It was really hot and humid that day, so the air conditioners were roarin' 'n' rattlin'. The translucents had been wedged inside a ridiculous car for hours, and were all jacked-up on soy energy. Nancy acted like she'd been doing cocaine (perhaps she –
gasp! – fully caffeinated at a Starbucks?), and it sounded like a hundred people were talking at once.
Every other response seemed to be, "What?" or "Huh?" or "Say again?" and I was already destroying my molars in a fit of
nervous-grindage.
-- On Thursday Toney mentioned she
was going to Sam's Club the next morning, to buy weekend supplies.
Nancy and the gang would be arriving on Friday, and we were planning a
big cookout extravaganza for Saturday.
I told her I wanted to go with her, because I wasn't getting trapped
with ol' Internal Bleeding again; no way, no how…
So she got me up early, and I began the process of eeeeasing into the
day. I had a few cups of Eight O'Clock bean coffee, scanned the doom
and gloom in the newspaper, and heard not even a peep from the family
room, where S&M were bedded-down.
While I was enjoying Cup Three, Toney said I'd better get in the
shower. I'd pressed my luck long enough, she predicted, and if
Sunshine or Mumbles got in there first, we wouldn't be able to leave
until noon. Those two can flat-out dominate a shitter…
-- Sunshine & Mumbles arrived at our house Wednesday evening, after I'd already gone to work. It took them almost eight days(!) to drive from Reno to Scranton. Toney's mother called as they were exiting the interstate, about two miles from our house, and Toney said, "OK, we'll expect you in about an hour."
Turns out they were obsessed with gas mileage, and set their cruise control to exactly 58 mph at all times. Wonder how many dual rotating middle fingers they received as they crossed the continent at the approximate speed of a mall walker? Hundreds? Maybe thousands? They'd never know, of course: Sunny's passed-out most of the time, and Mumbles is oblivious.
Toney cooked dinner, and Sunshine reportedly videotaped the Secrets playing Guitar Hero for hours on end. I bet that will be engrossing footage...
--
On Saturday we looked at a model home, in a new subdivision near us. The
houses will be in the half-million dollar range so, obviously, we were
just snooping around for sport.
And I wasn't really blown away. The thing felt kinda cramped; I think
our current house has more square footage. Sure, the kitchen was pretty
kick-ass, with all the stainless steel and granite, and the master
bedroom was so large you could play a game of Wiffle Ball in there. But
the living areas were surprisingly pinched, especially at the
price they were asking.
Plus, it was way out some country road, a couple of miles off another
country road, which would be a bunker-buster of a bitch on snowy days.
And out the back window was what looked like a strip mine, just raw
earth for acres. I asked one of the "representatives" about
it, a man with eyes on the sides of his head like a fish, and he said it
MIGHT someday be a lake.
--
When I was a kid, maybe fourth grade or so, I went through somebody's
yard one summer morning, and took a short-cut between two houses.
Back in those days, correctly or incorrectly, we believed we were
allowed to do such things unless we were told differently (yelled at).
We pretty much used the entire neighborhood as our own personal
kingdom…
And on this morning I walked between a pair of neat cinderblock houses,
and there was a woman standing way up high in one of the windows,
washing dishes and wearing a bra. That is to say, she was wearing a bra
-- and no shirt.
Gulp.
It was one of those big 1970s steel safety-cage models, with side-impact
system, and straps as wide as seatbelts. The woman was probably in her
thirties, but seemed like an old lady to me. I looked at her, my eyes
bugged-out, her eyes bugged-out, I ran in one direction, and she
ran in the other direction...
--My brain chemicals are mixing in a most unsatisfactory manner.I woke up in a foul mood yesterday, and today’s no better.Something’s gotta change.I
can’t put my finger on what, but something.
Last night at work half of the people didn’t show up; they were all
“sick,” I guess.And it’s
funny, ever since winter ended and the weather became nice, there’s
been a sudden up-tick in Sunday Night Sickness.Week after week a large portion of the crew is stricken.The CDC should really look into it…
One guy in my department left a message on the call-off line, and said,
“It’s been a long day.”That’s
the reason he gave us.
And, of course, the folks who actually honor their obligations get to
smile and eat the big shit samlich, while all the “sick” people sit
around in plastic chairs, drink ice-water beer, talk about waterbeds and
weightlifting, and holler at their l’il buzzcut hicklets.
--At my job they’re offering us the opportunity to wear shorts to
work, on days we donate a dollar to a charity of some kind (always with
the charities…).This will run
through August and, from what I can tell, it’s a popular program.
Of course, I’m not interested.But
there’s another way they could get a dollar out of me…I’d gladly donate that amount each and every day, for the rest
of the summer, to STOP some of my co-workers from wearing shorts to
work.
I mean, seriously.Some folks
just need to keep themselves covered in heavy fabric, for the greater
good.I’m now seeing people
walking down the halls with fantastic columns of white riffle-flesh all
out in the open air, their crotches transformed into hungry
pants-gobbling beasts.
And I can’t have that.When I
go in on Sunday I think I’m going to write out my idea, and put it in
the suggestion box.They could
raise thousands, possibly millions!
-- Over the weekend our phone rang and Toney answered it, even though the caller ID said: UNKNOWN. I guess a credit card company keeps calling and asking for me, undoubtedly so they can try to up-sell us something of no value.
She was tired of them calling, and wanted me to deal with it already. So I heard her say, "Yes, he's right here," and handed me the phone(!). "Just talk to them," she mouthed silently, and I couldn't believe the betrayal. The deep, deep betrayal.
I put the receiver to my ear, and said, "Hullo?" And it sounded like shortwave radio. The line was crackling and whistling, and I could hear a whole lot of faint voices talking at the same time, way off in the murk.
-- I tried another of the novelty Mountain Dews last night, and felt like I was about to go into full cardiac arrest. It's that ginseng shit; my system doesn't care for it. The first time it felt like I was covered in ants, and last night I was having
honest-to-Elvis chest pains.
But I've got to try all three of the new limited edition flavors… It's my duty as a dedicated Dew follower; I have no real say in the
matter.
The heart-stopping version is called Revolution, and it's blue like a soda bottle full of Windex. It's supposedly "infused with Wild Berry Fruit Flavor and Ginseng." And once again, it was OK, but not great – with curious capitalization choices.
About twenty minutes after I finished it I started having actual chest pains, and they lasted for maybe half an hour. I was about to start ripping through peoples' desk drawers, to try to get my hands on some Bayer aspirin, or a glycerin tablet.
--
The weekend was unsatisfactory.I
had plans for each day, and most of them went straight down the ol'
crap-catcher.
Friday
was set aside for the final sprint of an extracurricular writing
project, and I got very little done.It
was the last day of school here in the Upper Perogie Belt, and the
Secrets got home around 12:30 in the afternoon.
The older boy had a friend with him, some kid I'd never seen before, who
reminded me of a guy I hated all through my childhood.Therefore, I didn't like this kid either…I didn't trust him because he was an asshole in 1974 West Virginia, even though he's only twelve and
lives in Pennsylvania.If you know what I mean,
And
the phone was ringing so much I was afraid it wouldn't be able to handle
the load and might burst into flames.
--When I was leaving for work on Tuesday there was a man from
Comcast standing on our driveway, holding the end of a rope.I couldn’t see him, but a second man was apparently way up in
our neighbors’ tree, holding the other end.
It wasn’t really any of my business, but I said, “So what’re you
guys doing?”I thought they
might be trimming the branches back from the cable.
But it turns out they were repairing “squirrel damage.”The guy told me squirrels like to strip aluminum off the outside
of wires, and it’s almost a full-time job cleaning up after “the
little bastards.”
Weird, I thought.Aluminum?On
the outside of wires?Did the squirrels like to eat it, or are they just bushy-tailed
delinquents?All these questions
flashed instantly through my mind, but I decided to take it in a
different direction.
--We've been having issues with Toney's new computer.One of you predicted it, probably Citizen
X, but that Vista operating system isn't a team
player.I couldn't get it to
connect to the wireless network, and the printer was nothing but a prop.
Toney
monkeyed around with it for far too long, as did I, and we finally
couldn't take it anymore.I
called an IT guy at my old job, and he suggested a few things.I tried each, and it was as if I'd done nothing.So he said he'd come take a look.
And yesterday evening I had the surreal experience of being at work and
talking to an ex-coworker – calling
from inside my house.How weird is that?
He got it all straightened out, but it took almost three hours.The wireless connection was fixed relatively quickly, but the
printer gave him all manner of trouble.And
if it was a problem for HIM, I would've never been able to fix it.
-- The youngest Secret participated in a spelling bee at the library on Saturday.
Toney signed him up for it, and when she told me about it I had my doubts. I mean, how many kids would take part in such an event, at the tail-end of the school year, on a Saturday? I thought he might be declared the winner by default, because he was the only person who showed up.
But I was so very wrong. The place was PACKED. They held it in an activity room, and there was an overflow crowd. All the seats were taken, others were standing shoulder to shoulder against three walls, and still more were out in the hallway listening through an open door.
--We never made it to the Bronx Zoo. When the oldest Secret came
home from school on Wednesday, he said he was tired and proceeded to
fall almost instantly to sleep on the couch.He's usually swinging for the fences, so I knew something was askew.
I went to work, and Toney told me he was running a mild temperature and
acting kind of lethargic all evening.Not
good.
And
when I got home at 3:15 am, he came downstairs with a face
the color of Mountain Dew Code Red.Holy
crap!Toney had given him Motrin,
but it was clearly time for another dose.The thermometer said 103 degrees, and he looked like something
off Yellow Submarine.
He
stayed home on Thursday, and didn't get any better.So we told the school he wouldn't be able to go to the zoo on
Friday, and since he wasn't going I sure as shit wasn't either.Yeah, and it cost us fifty-four non-refundable dollars…
-- Most mornings, when I hoist myself off the platform, my right ear is completely sealed-off. In the past when this would happen, I'd mess around with it and try to restore normalcy. But, I've learned, that only prolongs the problem.
So over the past few months I've just ignored my dead ear, and within thirty minutes it comes back to life. And man, when it pops it's a glorious moment. You instantly go from being slightly disoriented and off, to feeling pretty damn great.
Yesterday morning, however, it lasted for several hours and I was starting to get concerned. Where's the pop? I need the pop! Then I was out in the front yard yelling at Andy (he always wants to serve up a pipin' hot yard cruller on our neighbors' lawn), and there was a powerful explosion in my head. And all was right with the world.
I'm freakin' falling apart… Every day it's a new adventure.
--Every few years something weird happens to me, where I see
flashing lights in my peripheral vision for a while, then it stops and I
feel really tired.I can remember
it happening when I had a paper route, so it’s been going on for
decades.Very infrequently,
however…
But it happened today, and it’s a little scary.I laid down on the couch, and wondered if that’s where they’d
find the carcass.Because
that’s the way my mind works, even when it’s flickering and flashing
and whatnot.
I went to see a doctor about it years ago, and he didn’t have anything
to tell me.He had a few guesses
(something to do with blood pressure, I think), but didn’t believe it
was serious enough to send me for tests.
And since it only occurs every three or four years, I don’t give it
much thought, either.Until, you
know, it happens again.Then I
start thinking about Bob Marley, and his Bob Marley-sized brain tumor,
and that sort of thing.
-- While we were having dinner on Friday, Toney reminded me about the neighborhood block party scheduled for Saturday night, and how we were all RSVP'd-up. We'd been assigned to bring pasta salad, potato chips, and napkins, so we were locked-in.
Instinctively, I groaned. I'm not really a party kind of guy. I don't much enjoy, and am not especially skilled at, making small-talk with strangers. It's necessary to pour extra kerosene into the
Demumblifier(tm), when I'm hanging around such functions.
But, we'd gone the past two years, and had a blast exactly fifty percent of the time. The first go-round turned out to be surprisingly fun. The Secrets played "Manhunt" within a gang of roving
Lord of the Flies children all evening, while Toney and I drank beer with the other
adults, beside a bonfire.
