Wasp, mother fucker!  Call George and Martha, then write your book.

Love you,

Leland

 

From: The listserv where the buildings do the talking [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of [log in to unmask]
Sent: Monday, October 19, 2009 1:49 AM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: [BP] cigars and cat crap

 

The Haijj is over ; the great spiritual journey of driving ones 88 yr old cigar smoking crusty father who can't pee straight and my sister the former Bob Hope bomb shell who entertained the troops from China Beach to Pleiku with busty preformances of the Gong show  to give  it all up to join Sai Baba  of (Don't worry be Happy) fame plus  the familys two identical Maine Coon cats now caged who would'nt  give a rats ass  if they could get a claw into you . and given half a chance .... they did  when I fed them

My sister is right out of central casting ;
as someone who burned her bra in central park in 65 she still has two hostile projectiles that can still hold the vision of  the common man
She is I would say a free spirit ; as someone who is not  opposed to disrobing on the beach to worship the sun ; or using coarse language to tell you off  .
This of course is  polar opposite to Daddy who smokes  Romeo and Julliets special reserve in a corona ; wears the same paint spattered clothes ;listens to Rush liombaugh and is adversed to bathing in water unless its in his whiskey .

Then there is me ; the wheel man ; the Choffer -;the bag man for the both of them because they can't keep cash or a nickle or a credit card in their pocket because they both forget ;
then they fight because neither one can keep a decent conversation ; as it always was in this family 
one has to be right and the other has to wrong and oh boy the one who is wrong is stupid and shamed  ...a tennis match of absurdity
At this point I am rolling my eyes ;10.000 years of recorded human history (if you count the paintings in the dordonge ) and its the same shit .
Predictability  the argument then gets personal ....then  the furr flys ;.....then the  cats crap .

Its the middle of the night and we are driving down 29 South into the Blue ridge Mountains south of Charlottesville dodging rummies returning home from clog dancing at road houses .
Were going to vist our mothers tomb in the morning up in the Drummond  hill country of Cold Mountain near Amherst .
Mama's  buried now 40 years; and sister is starting to emote over 
what a bastard the old man was ;
To retaleate The old man is talking story about what a pain in the ass sister was and is pushing her buttons..... and mine becausing I am driving and I don't need this shit .

The bickering and the argument between them and I feel like i am in the back seat of the station waggon when I was five and mom and dad would have at it over some bullshit  that didn't make sence then and sure as hell dosen't make sence now 

Only this time Iis me at the wheel and I am doing my best at recalling and invoking 20yrs of therarpy to prepare me for this moment ; this divine moment when all the stars in the universe are twinkling at me through the  trees ;
the beautiful fall trees of the Blue ridge mountains and I am going down hill twisting and turning on  hair pin  turns and these two numbkulls  who I am related to and ; who are essentially the same actors of my childhood  recreating the same stress and provacative uglyness as it was when I was five and wanted to throw myself from the car just to be out of it

only this time I can't ;
I am holding the fucking wheel yelling at them to shut the fuck up through the blue cigar smoke and the dim lights of the dash
; to which they in  turn , now turn on me ;and are  yelling at me to shut the fuck up as it is their fight ;and now the cats are crapping and meowing and everybodys yelling  at everybody .....and I am having one of those unearthly dejuvue moments wondering if its not better  just  to drive the car over the cliff and incarnate another time ;
but  the problem is peanuts in my rear view mirror
and so I am ....as they say in the trade.... stucco
I now  miss my turn and devise a plan to refuse to drive anymore until they cut all of the  crap (and this includes the cats ).
I get everyone to appologize before moving on ;
Its late
the old man needs a bath ; sister needs a valuium ,and I am ready to leave my body  if I don't make a beverage and a bed real soon .
Who ever said its not the trip  but the journey ?

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-- To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to: http://listserv.icors.org/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html